#female goose | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bradshawsbaby · 2 years

Text

A Glimpse of Them

Pairings: Rooster x Wife!Reader, Goose x Carole, Maverick x Penny

Author’s Note: Inspired by this absolutely precious Anon request, as well as my great love for the iconic Goose and Carole Bradshaw.

Warnings: Super fluffy fluff, as well as a little bit of angst that comes from missing the people you love.

From the very beginning, Maverick knew that you and Bradley were meant to be.

How?

Because every time he looked at the two of you, he saw them.

It caught him off guard, the first time it happened. You were all at the beach, enjoying a barbeque Penny was hosting at The Hard Deck. Mav was helping her at the grill when he heard a loud shriek behind him. Turning, he immediately spotted Bradley chasing you across the sand as you laughed and tried to duck out of his hold. It wasn’t long, however, before he managed to catch you and sling you over his shoulder, victoriously carrying you towards the water as you pounded playfully on his back.

“Goose Bradshaw, you put me down this instant!” Carole shrieked, smacking her boyfriend’s back as he swung her around with a big grin plastered across his face.

“Do you hear something, Mav?” Goose asked, turning left and right and cupping his ear with a look of mock confusion on his face.

“Mav, you tell him to put me down right now!” Carole demanded, her cheeks turning red as she hung over Goose’s shoulder.

From his spot on his beach chair, Maverick couldn’t help but grin at his friend and his friend’s girl. One month, and Goose was already a goner for Carole.

“I don’t know, Goose, I think I hear something, but I can’t quite put my finger on it,” Mav laughed, sliding his Aviators back on.

“Oh, you two idiots!” Carole groaned, pounding on Goose’s back some more.

“Must be the sun getting to me,” Goose grinned mischievously, tightening his hold on Carole’s waist. “Better go cool off.”

“Nicholas Bradshaw, don’t even think about it!” Carole squealed, letting out a yelp as Goose took off towards the water, submerging them both in an instant.

“You big idiot!” Carole cried, though she was laughing hysterically as she wiped the salt water out of her eyes.

“I think you mean stud, honey,” Goose smirked, pulling her into his arms and kissing her soundly.

“Yeah, yeah,” Carole smiled, wrapping her arms around him and kissing him back.

Maverick blinked and suddenly Goose and Carole were gone. Instead, it was you and Rooster laughing like a couple of schoolchildren on the beach, Rooster tugging playfully on your wet ponytail and kissing you tenderly.

“Pete, you alright?” Penny asked, resting a hand on his back as she followed his gaze.

“Yeah,” Mav nodded, shaking his head slightly. “Just remembering something, that’s all,” he told her with a smile.

After that day, Maverick saw glimpses of his dearest friends in you and Rooster all the time.

He saw Goose in the way Rooster gazed at you when you weren’t looking, like his whole world was wrapped up in you and you alone. Goose had always looked at Carole that way.

He saw Carole in the way you rested against Rooster, your head on his shoulder and your hand slipped inside his, like you never wanted to let him go. Carole had been the same way with Goose.

Whenever Rooster returned home from a mission, Maverick always kept his eyes on you, watching for your reaction. The way you would throw your arms open wide and call out his name, a smile made of pure sunshine lighting up your face, made him recall the reunions he got to witness between Goose and Carole whenever they made their way home. Rooster held you in the same way that Goose had held Carole, like he would never let you go, even if the world was crumbling around you.

The first time Maverick saw the two of you at the piano together, he’d had to step outside for a minute, too overcome with emotion to remain in the bar. It was no great surprise to hear Rooster singing “Great Balls of Fire,” as he’d heard him sing it many times as he was growing up, but when he pulled you down onto his lap and pressed a kiss to your shoulder, he looked so much like his father that Mav could have sworn it was Goose in the room that night. And when you threw your head back and laughed with careless abandon, gazing at Rooster with complete adoration in your eyes, it was like he was getting to see Carole again after so many years. It took his breath away, how much he missed his friends.

But it also brought him comfort, knowing how happy Goose and Carole would be to know that their son had found someone to love, someone who loved him just as much in return.

He shed a tear when Bradley texted him a picture of the two of you on vacation in the Bahamas. It was a candid shot, one that looked as if it had been snapped almost accidentally. Bradley’s head was turned so that he was gazing down at you, your hand resting on his chest and your mouth open in laughter. It was the looks in both your eyes that made him see Goose and Carole. The two of them had never been good at posing for photographs. One was always looking at the other, one was always making the other laugh. Both of them were always gazing at each other with that look of unguarded, unadulterated love.

Maverick printed that picture that Bradley sent him and hung it right beside a similar shot of Goose and Carole from their honeymoon.

When you and Bradley got engaged, Maverick felt Goose and Carole’s presence there that night, celebrating with you all.

“Mav, isn’t it beautiful?” you asked, holding up your engagement ring for him to see.

“Mav, isn’t it beautiful?” Carole beamed, her face split with a giant smile as she held up the engagement ring Goose had slipped on her finger just hours before.

“It’s beautiful, Carole,” Mav grinned, slapping Goose on the shoulder in congratulations.

“It’s beautiful, kid,” Mav smiled, slapping Rooster on the shoulder in congratulations.

When he walked you down the aisle on your wedding day, your eyes aglow as they rested on your groom, Maverick couldn’t help but remember the sight of Carole on her wedding day, that megawatt smile of hers turned all the way up as she glided down the aisle on her father’s arm.

Rooster’s bright smile, and the light sheen of tears glistening in his eyes as he looked back at you, were identical to his father’s as he had gazed at his mother.

God, Rooster looked so much like Goose.

Maverick’s heart throbbed with memory the day that you and Bradley told him you were expecting your first child.

“You’re going to be a great-uncle, Mav,” Rooster chuckled, clapping him on the shoulder as he glowed with pride and slipped his hand inside yours.

“A great great-uncle!” you added, the three of you laughing as you leaned over to hug him.

“You’re going to be an uncle, Mav! How do you like that?” Goose grinned, clapping him on the shoulder as he wrapped his other arm around Carole.

“The best uncle there is!” Carole smiled, wrapping her arms around Maverick and giving him a big hug.

Rooster was the picture of his father the night you went into labor, prepared as anything but also as frantic as could be.

“I’m going to be a father, Mav,” he kept saying over and over again when he called to let him know that the two of you were at the hospital. “I’m going to be a father.”

“I’m going to be a father, Mav,” Goose murmured into the payphone, running his fingers through his hair. “I’m going to be a father! Oh my God, I gotta go,” he exclaimed, slamming the phone down as Mav chuckled.

“You’re going to be a great father,” Mav assured Rooster, smiling through the phone.

And he was. You both were incredible parents.

Every time you brought Nick to the base to visit everyone, every time you and your son were there to greet Rooster at his homecomings, every time Rooster lifted your little boy into his arms or sat him up on his shoulders, Maverick saw glimpses of the past. Glimpses of all that had been.

The day you both told him that you had started calling your son Goose, he hadn’t been able to say anything. Emotion clogging his throat, he’d just pulled the two of you into his arms and held on tightly.

You both had known exactly what he meant. Words weren’t needed.

As Maverick watched your family grow, he thought often of his beloved friends. They would have loved to see the life you and Bradley were creating. They would have been so proud of the man their son had become. They would have loved you and treated you like their own daughter. They would have adored doting on their grandchildren.

There wasn’t a day that went by that Maverick didn’t miss Goose and Carole. But when he looked at you and Bradley, he caught a glimpse of them.

And that was enough until he could see them again.

#top gun #top gun: maverick #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #x reader #x female reader #goose x carole #pete maverick mitchell

10K notes · View notes

cutielando · 6 months

Text

cute ~ oscar piastri

Summary: You and Oscar are titled the cutest couple on the entire grid. Some of the cutest moments between you and Oscar that made you worthy of the title.

Words: 1k+

Other works: my masterlist

♡♡♡♡♡

First appearance at the paddock as a couple

Looking all around you at the busy paddock, you were in absolute awe.

You had been used to the Formula 2 lifestyle, being with Oscar ever since his karting days and attending as many races as you possibly could.

But Formula 1 was an entirely different thing. This was a whole other world than what you were used to.

"Are you okay?" Oscar asked once he saw how you kept looking all around you.

"This is wow" you mumbled, squeezing his hand that was holding yours and hugging his bicep to keep close to him.

"Quite the upgrade, right?" he asked, kissing the side of your head sweetly.

You nodded, still looking starstruck at the whole paddock around you.

Even after you got to the McLaren garage and Oscar spoke to his engineers and introduced everyone to you, you were still stuck to his side, leaning your head against his shoulder and hugging his bicep close to you.

"You're so cute" you would hear multiple engineers say in your direction, making you blush and try to hide your face in Oscar's hoodie.

Unbeknownst to you, fans had caught the cute little interactions between you two, making the internet go wild over how cute you were.

Slowly but surely becoming the favorite grid couple.

♡♡♡♡♡

First appearance in a McLaren video

You didn't know how he had convinced you to participate.

You had never been one for the attention and the cameras and everything, but you learned how to live with it because it was part of Oscar's life.

However, you always opted out of being in videos you didn't have to be in.

That all changed when McLaren proposed to Oscar that they get the two of you in a video playing a couple's game. It took some convincing on Oscar's part, but here you were in front of the camera, your palms sweating profusely.

"Hey, we don't have to do this if you don't want to" Oscar whispered once he noticed how terrified you truly looked.

Seeing his gentle and worried face made you relax slightly, shaking your head.

"I'm fine. This could be fun" you said, putting your hand over his in reassurance.

He looked at you for a moment longer and nodded his head, leaning in to peck your lips quickly before settling in his chair next to you.

"Hello everybody. I'm Oscar and this is my girlfriend Y/N and we're going to be doing a couple's quiz today!" Oscar excitedly started the video and you just smiled and waved at the camera.

"Don't mind Y/N, she is just a little camera shy" Lando commented from behind the camera, making you blush immediately.

"Moving on. Question number 1, how did you two meet? Y/N, wanna answer?" Oscar asked as he looked ar you gently.

You nodded and cleared your throat, shifting in your chair to sit more comfortably.

"We met back when we were kids, our families were friends. We lost contact when he left home to pursue his racing career and met again when he came home after winning his Formula 3 championship and the rest is kind of history" you said, looking back at Oscar who nodded.

"Question number 2, how do you cope with traveling so much and being away from home?" you asked, looking at your boyfriend.

"It's hard, to be honest. Being away from home for so many months and occasionally only flying back for the holidays, not seeing our families as much as we would like to, the jet lag is horrible. I think Y/N being with me helps a lot, she always helps me balance things out and adapt quickly, plus I always I feel at home wherever I'm with her, so that is definitely a plus" Oscar took your hand in his and kissed me, making you blush once again.

Questions and questions later, you finally ended the video and released a breath you didn't realize you had been holding.

"How do you feel?" Oscar asked you once you were out of the camera shot.

"I'm okay, it was more fun than I thought it was going to be" you confessed, wrapping your arms around his waist.

"Thanks for agreeing to do this with me" he said and leaned down to kiss your lips and then bury his head in the crook of your neck.

After the video was uploaded, the internet absolutely exploded with how cute they found you guys, how perfect you two seemed for each other, edits over edits tagging you and your boyfriend.

♡♡♡♡♡

Celebrating his first Sprint Win in Qatar

Watching the Qatar Sprint had you on the edge of your seat. You've always known how talented Oscar was, but now was the time he would prove it.

He had been leading the Sprint for the majority of the race and it was drawing to a close, your boyfriend still in the lead.

The whole McLaren garage was buzzing with excitement seeing both of their drivers potentially on pole, already starting celebrations before the race even ended.

From the moment Oscar passed the checkered flag first, everything was a blur.

You were screaming and jumping in happiness, hugging both of his parents like it was your last day on Earth.

Once he parked his car and got out of it, you didn't even let him take off his helmet or gloves before you jumped into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck.

"I'm so proud of you, my pretty boy" you told him, burying your face in his shoulder.

"I did it for you" he said back, squeezing you just as tightly.

As you stood there in the middle of the paddock wrapped in each other's arms, everyone around you stopped to admire you.

The amount of love that the two of you shared couldn't be denied, it was very obvious how in love you were with one another and how pure it was.

His parents were standing a distance behind you, watching the sweet interaction with smiles on their face.

They had always cared immensely for Oscar being as he was their only son, and seeing you take such good care of him, loving him, traveling with him and being by his side through his entire career made them feel proud.

It was safe to say that you became the fan favorite grid couple.

comments and re-blogs help us grow!

much appreciated!!

JOIN MY TAG LIST HERE

REQUEST HERE

♡♡♡♡♡

Tag list: @outerudeth @f1ln4dr3cl16mv33 @dardouni @saturnssunflower @moony-artemis @blissfulsunsetstuff @samantha-chicago @nikfigueiredo @therealcap @iloveyou3000morgan @daemyratwst @rqlstefanny @bwormie @hangmandruigandmav @kagome45 @enidsinclairaddamsthesecond @tallrock35 @sesamepancakes @boywondrgrayson @evlkking @evie-119 @ijustwanttoreadlols @cixrosie @poppyflower-22 @hiireadstuff @ellouisa17 @paintedbypoetry @hellowgoodbye @lpab @xlinxdax0704 @decafmickey @teti-menchon0604 @ctrlyomomma @sya-skies @likedbygaslyy @booksandflowrs @acidburnsthings @dhanihamidi @mynameisangeloflife @5starl1ght @teamnovalak @ferrarisfailedstrats @basicuniter @jxnellat

842 notes · View notes

happy74827 · 5 months

Text

The Little Things

[Gideon Graves x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Sometimes all it takes is a little bit of love to turn things around.

WC: 2756

Category: Heavy Angst, Happy Ending

I’m actually very proud at how this turned out.

『••✎••』

Gideon had always been a character that you were fascinated by. He was mysterious, powerful, and, of course, had an ego to match. Despite how he seemed to others, you always saw something else behind that sly smile of his. You always felt like there was something about him that you were missing. Something that drew you to him like a magnet.

Oddly enough, the two of you had met through Ramona, and though you were intrigued, you also hated him. The moment you two met, you couldn't get away from him quick enough. The guy just rubbed you the wrong way.

However, you couldn't deny that he had a charm to him. As much as you hated it, you found yourself staring at him sometimes. You couldn't help it when he was around. His aura always made you feel nervous.

Julia had told you that you were living a true "life of the cliche,” and as much as you wanted to tell her that she was full of shit, there was some truth to what she said.

There was something about the man that always made you look twice. You didn't understand what it was, but he made you feel some type of way. It didn’t help when he would seek you out, going as far as to con his way into being with you.

He knew how to push your buttons. So, you knew it would only be a certain amount of time before he found a way in. And thus, that enemies-to-lovers story was written.

The two of you had started off rocky, of course. You always fought, mostly about little things and the occasional heavy blowout. It didn't help that you and Gideon had very different personalities or the fact that he was the most narcissistic person you knew.

But right when you started to smooth out those cracks, it all changed come after the events with Ramona and his league of assholes. He became more work-driven. Less of the Gideon you were used to. You were kind of proud of him for that, but at the same time, you hated that he changed so drastically.

The Gideon you knew was full of snarky remarks, a subtle asshole with a sense of humor, and of course, the constant flirting. You liked to think that that was the Gideon you liked and knew.

The man in front of you now didn't give a shit about anything that wasn't work. He worked until he passed out and only stopped when someone dragged him away from his desk. He even slept there sometimes.

You didn't like how he had become. It hurt you. He wasn't the man you knew anymore. The man you knew was gone, and it made your chest ache.

"Hey," you say softly, coming up behind him and setting a cup of coffee on his desk. He turns his head, his gaze falling on you. You watch as his brows furrow before he looks at the cup of coffee.

"What's this?" He asks, raising a brow.

"It's just a cup of coffee." You reply, sitting across from him at his desk and pulling a sketchbook out of your bag.

"A cup of coffee?" He repeats, picking it up and taking a sip. His brows furrow as he continues to stare at it. He grimaces.

"Too hot, but yeah, coffee. It's the liquid gold of the earth." You smile.

"Liquid gold?" He asks, taking another sip and wincing. "I don't see it."

You shrug, flipping to a blank page in your sketchbook. The old him would’ve said something witty back. He would've made a joke at the expense of your taste in coffee. He’d probably be looking you up and down and saying something about how he knew what he liked in his coffee.

Instead, he was silent, his attention going back to his screen. You look at him for a moment, his fingers flying across his keyboard.

"Do you even sleep?" You ask him, and you swear that you hear him sigh.

"Not when I can help it." He replies, not bothering to look at you.

"Gideon-"

"You shouldn't be here." He cuts you off. You purse your lips together, sighing. When he looked at you for a split second, just a fraction of a second, you could tell that there was something wrong. He had deep bags under his eyes, and it was obvious that he was exhausted. He looked pale like he was sick. You don't think he's slept for the past few days.

"Why don't we go home?" You ask him. "We can work tomorrow."

"No," he says, not even bothering to look up at you.

"You can't keep doing this to yourself," you tell him, standing up and setting your hand on his shoulder. He flinches. "You can't keep pushing yourself to the point of collapse."

"I'm fine," he replies.

"You aren't." You insist. You glance around his office, seeing papers scattered everywhere. He didn't even try to hide the fact that he was overworked.

"I am, and I can't keep this up." He replies.

"Keep what up?" You ask, and when you glance at him, he looks tired. You can see the dark circles under his eyes and his brow furrow as he types away.

"I can't keep you up." He says after a moment, not looking at you. You blink a few times, furrowing your brow.

"What do you mean?" You might ask, but you're already pretty sure what he's referring to. He sighs, running a hand through his hair, stopping it midway, and shaking his head. He slouches in his seat.

"I mean that this is all pointless, isn't it? Why try when the world is ending? Why try when I'll just die alone? When there is no one who cares about me and no one who gives a shit about me." He says, his words bitter, laced with exhaustion. You can see his expression fall. His hands go back to the keyboard, and you furrow your brow as you watch him.

"Gideon..."

"I don't want you to care about me," he snaps. "Why would you want to?"

"I want to because I do care," you tell him. You sigh softly. "Unlike Ramona, I don't see you like that."

"Do not mention her to me. Don't." His tone changes drastically. You watch as he shakes his head. "Don't talk to me."

"Gideon, what's wrong?" You ask, kneeling down beside his desk. You reach out to him, but he smacks your hand away, a look of fury on his face. He glares at you, but you can tell there's something behind his glare. You can see how broken he looks. How much he needs someone right now.

"You're useless," he says bitterly, and it hurts you more than it should. You open your mouth to respond, but he stops you, not wanting to hear it. "Don't say anything."

"I don't want to leave you like this." You tell him, and you can see the way his expression falls.

"I don't care what you want," he tells you, but you can see the way his lips part and the way he looks at you. You watch as he averts his gaze from you. He stares at his screen, his brow furrowed. "Go home."

"Gideon-"

"Please," he says, and the desperation is in his voice. "Just... go."

You watch him for a moment, the pencil in your hands still. You let out a heavy breath, looking down. He wasn’t going to budge; you knew that now. He was set in his ways, and he wasn't going to let you in. You know him well enough to know when he's set in stone.

You sigh, setting your sketchbook and pencil back into your bag and slinging it over your shoulder. You shake your head at him, your gaze soft. "You know where I'll be if you change your mind."

He doesn't reply to you. You press your lips together as you turn on your heel, walking away. You know that he isn't going to find you. He's going to sit there all alone and work himself to death.

You know that no matter how you try, he's going to find a way to push you away. You know that he's going to do what he wants, and he's going to be stubborn.

So you decide to give him his space. You decide to go home and leave him alone. You don't know what you were thinking, coming into his office with coffee. He would never say it but you were hoping you could help.

Maybe if he let his walls down, he would feel better about himself. You know it was too much to ask, but it's what you wanted.

You decide to let him work. You'll just be here, waiting for him to come to you. It's all you can do. It's all you can do to show that you care for him.

That's all you can do, right?

A couple of hours pass by, and you're sitting in your bed, a mug of tea in your hands. Your sketchbook is open in front of you, and you sigh, pressing your fingers to your temple.

You really need to draw something to get out of your headspace, but it doesn't help. It's been an hour, and there are still no new pages of art. The most recent drawing is still the one you drew of Gideon.

He was in his usual attire with his katana against his shoulder. His eyes were glued to the ground in it, a small smile on his lips.

You drew it back when he was still… him. The old him. You were scared to give it to him at the fear of him laughing in your face. Now, you were afraid that he wouldn’t even care.

You sigh softly. You know you have to face the reality that the man you've always liked won't be the man he was again. Not for a while, anyway.

"What am I going to do with you, Gideon?" You murmur, your voice thick with sadness. The tea you were drinking didn't taste as good as you hoped it would. It tasted bitter to you now, and it didn't sit right with you.

You let out a soft sigh and lean back against the headboard of your bed, closing your eyes. You lay there in silence, waiting for the morning to come.

It wouldn't come.

Not with Gideon still overworking himself at his desk. At least, not until he noticed a small piece of paper beside his keyboard. It turns out that when you opened your sketchbook, an old drawing came tumbling out without your knowledge.

It was a super old one, probably one of the first you did of him. You weren’t even talking at that point, just staring from afar as you tried to figure out why you were so attracted to this guy.

You still don't understand, honestly.

But as Gideon stared at the drawing, the insane amount of stress that was on his shoulders seemed to lift for a moment. He glanced towards the door before going back to the drawing, staring at it.

The amount of detail that you put in the drawing shocked him. He almost felt as though he was looking in a mirror—a mirror of his old self.

You got everything right. His hair length, the outfit, the color of his eyes, even the tiny scratches on the lens of his glasses. It was almost eerie how much you got right.

It's the little things you notice about people. The little things you remember.

He remembered that you said that.

You had been in a rather philosophical mood that day. He remembered it because it stuck with him. He'd forgotten that.

"Damn it.” He murmured, folding up the drawing as he glanced at the door. He stared at it for a moment before gently setting the drawing in his pocket. "Why am I like this?"

He knew that you were probably asleep by now, maybe curled up with a cup of tea, but he sighed, reaching over for the telephone.

He was right; of course, you were asleep. But you weren't asleep long.

"You always did have an eye for detail."

He spoke to himself, but you heard enough to know it was him. You didn't move from your place, however. You stayed still as a statue, your eyes closed.

"Gideon?” Your voice was a soft, almost fragile whisper. It was soft, yet it felt like it echoed throughout the entire room. He smiled, but you couldn't see that.

He fell silent for a long time. It seemed like forever, but you knew what he was trying to do. He wanted to hear your voice.

He was desperate for it.

“Yeah,” he replied, a hint of vulnerability in his tone. “Yeah, it’s me.”

There was a slight pause. You didn't reply for a long time. You lay there in the dark, the quiet and the sound of static being the only thing you heard.

But when you spoke, you sounded the same way he did, almost a bit fragile and broken, your tone thick with sadness.

"Why are you different? Why?" You ask, your voice wavering and cracking. You sit up, setting your sketchbook to the side, your fingers gripping your comforter as you wait for him to reply.

He did, and after a moment, his voice was quiet, soft. "I— I don’t know. I really don't."

There was a moment when you couldn't breathe. He sounded so broken and so desperate to be around someone. You wanted to drive back where he was. You wanted to give him the hug you knew he wanted.

"Come home." You say softly.

There was a moment of silence, not an uncomfortable silence, but more of a thoughtfulness. You weren't sure what he was thinking or if he would respond. You were about to pull the phone away from your ear, but you heard his voice again.

"Okay."

It was such a simple answer, but it meant so much to you. It made your heart skip a beat. Your lips parted slightly, but no words came out. It was like you were in shock, frozen solid as you sat in bed.

"For what it’s worth,” he said softly. You can almost picture him looking up at the ceiling with that look in his eye. The one you always saw when he thought about the past. The one where he was vulnerable. Where he didn't feel like the strongest man on earth.

Where he didn't have a mask on.

“I didn’t mean it when I said you were useless. You're not… useless. You're the only one who cares enough to try, and I didn't realize how much that mattered to me."

“Gid-"

"I don’t… say this often, but when I’m wrong, I'm wrong." He says, and you feel your chest ache. He pauses. "So, uh, I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry," you murmured.

"You deserve better than what I've given you." He tells you, his voice soft.

"Yeah, I do, but I also want you." You confess. "I just want the you I knew before all this bullshit. Even if you were a bit of a dick.”

He laughed softly at your response. "Oh, trust me, I'm still plenty of that."

You laughed softly. You felt yourself relax slightly. He was starting to come back to you, slowly but surely. You smiled softly as you settled back in your bed.

"Forgiven?” He asked after a moment.

"Forgiven." You confirm, and you hear him sigh softly. He's relieved.

You can picture the grin on his face. The one that he wore when he thought he had you wrapped around his finger. It's a nice grin. It makes your heart flutter.

"Hurry up and get back to me." You tell him. "I wanna sleep. You woke me up."

"Alright, alright, fine. I'll see you soon, love." He replied, the nickname making your cheeks flush. He always seemed to know exactly what to say, but now you feel like he's letting his walls down.

"I love you too," you say, and you swear that you hear him sigh softly like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. He hung up, but now you didn’t mind because he was coming back to you. The old him was coming back to you.

And you couldn’t wait for it.

334 notes · View notes

jaidens · 8 months

Note

omg wait bradley introducing his gf to his parents (obvs in an au where goosie poo and carol arent dead <33a0 PLS AND TYSM ML <3333333333333333333333333333

there ain't a thing a man can do she'll only love you for you

pairing [s] : bradley bradshaw x reader

warning [s] : nothing!

a/n [s] : dal lives for requesting brad [requests are open!]

“Brad,” You say above the music that plays on the radio. “I’m worried. Who says they'll like me? I mean, these are your parents.”

Bradley looks over to you, hand stopping the tapping movement on your thigh. His Ray-Bans cover his eyes, but you can tell he's looking at you. “Baby, just be yourself. My mom said she's tired of hearing the stories about you, and how ‘wonderful’ you already seem. I promise it will be fine.”

When the large, suburban Bradshaw home comes in your sight, you feel the pit in your stomach start to fill with worry. “Are you ready?” Bradley asks.

You nod and he shuts the engine off and gets out of the car, and you follow slightly after and grab your purse and phone. There are about fifteen cars parked in the driveway and on the edge of the road, as well as in the grass. You knew it was a family reunion, but not this big of a reunion. You connect your hands with Bradley’s and scoot closer to him.

He takes you up the stairs and knocks on the door. There are some small Halloween and fall decorations on the wrap around porch on each pole. You're zoned out on the porch decor when you hear it. “Bradley! Hello honey!” An older woman's voice captures your attention and you give her a large smile.

She has Bradley in her arms before she takes you in. “Oh, you must be Y/N! You are so beautiful. You are just the sweetest! Come inside!” Her hand pushes you both in and you look around at everyone mingling, children running around, and right in the middle of everything stands Nick Bradshaw.

“Here, why don't you come and meet my dumb husband Nick. Now, we have both been dying to meet you. Bradley never seems to shut his mouth about you, I already love you from what he's told me.” Carole is practically dragging you too, and Bradley shrugs his shoulders and follows after his mother.

“Bradley! There's my boy!” A loud obnoxious shout fills your ears. You smile when Nick hugs Bradley in his arms, and shakes him around. He looks almost identical to Bradley, with thinner hair and the fact he was greying. “And you must be?” He turns and lets go of him, and shakes your hand.

“Y/N. I’m Bradley’s girlfriend.” When you say it, he shouts a yell and kicks his feet around. You can't tell how a man in his sixties can somehow do all of this, but you're smiling and laughing.

“Oh! You are one pretty catch! It is really nice to meet you!” Nick puts his arm around Carole and tugs her into his chest. She hits it playfully and lets Nick kiss her.

“Isn’t she just beautiful?”

“Bradley has good taste, just like his father.” Nick jokes and Bradley laughs. The atmosphere is warm and the worries start to disappear. Bradley stays close to you and he interacts with cousins, aunts, uncles, and others.

—

“I told you it would be fine.” Bradley told you later, handing you a water as you flipped through old baby pictures and other pictures from his childhood. He sits down next to you and covers an embarrassing picture with his hand. You look up and smile at him, and he kisses you on the tip of your nose and travels to your lips with soft pecks.

“I know. I've also been invited to brunch with your mom.”

319 notes · View notes

topgun-imagines · 7 months

Text

Day 10: Blood In The Water

Pairings: Nick ‘Goose’ Bradshaw x sister!reader, Tom ‘Iceman’ Kazansky x fem!reader

Synopsis: What would have happened if it was you, Ice’s RIO, in that flat spin instead of Goose?

Warnings: mentions of death, panic attacks, crying, fainting, engine failure & plane crashes.

Note: wouldn’t mind expanding on this one after whumptober if people are interested

Word count: 1.3k

“Come on, Mav!” You called from behind Ice. The two of you were currently flying right behind Maverick, the arrogant pilot having cut you off to get a shot on the bogey. After many attempts, he was unsuccessful and now refusing to move to let you and Iceman get the shot. He was too close to get a proper shot lined up. The pissing contest between the two was really starting to get out of hand. “Get the hell out of there!”

With a roll of your eyes, you gave up on yelling at your brother's best friend and spoke to Ice instead. After little encouragement from you, it was his turn to yell at Maverick. “Mav! Come off high right,” You grinned, ready for Ice to make the shot. However, Mav insisted that he only needed five more seconds. “Come off high right, Mav. I’m in.” Everything seemed to be going fine. You and Ice were about to make the shot, putting you on top of the scoreboard.

But in the blink of an eye, everything went to hell.

“I’m off. Shit!” Maverick hissed, quickly pulling up and to the right. For a second, you were elated. This was the point that would put you over the edge. You were seconds away from winning the Top Gun trophy. That was before your stomach dropped and you realized what exactly was happening.

You froze, eyes screwed shut as you screamed at Ice. “We’re in his jet wash!” Distantly, you heard Ice curse in front of you. Your head was pounding against your skull, horror surging through your veins. The only thing you could do was hope that Ice could pull you out of it. This was not good. You peeled your eyes open when you heard a sensor going off. “Shit! We’ve got a flame out, Ice!” More sensors went off as your jet continued to spiral. “Engine one is out! Engine two is out!”

It was then that you heard the words you never wanted to hear from your pilot. He called your name in a rush. “I’m losing control, I’m losing control!” The panic in his voice was unlike anything you had ever heard before. “I ca- I can’t control it! It won’t recover!” He cussed again as the jet spun uncontrollably through the air.

You looked up with tears in your eyes, watching the view from the canopy switch from the dark ocean below to the bright blue sky. “We’re out of control! This is not good!” Before you could stop it, a sob bubbled out of your chest. It wasn’t often that you cried, and you knew that Ice needed you to be level-headed, but you couldn’t help yourself. You were about to die.

When Ice heard you crying behind him, it was as if something clicked in his mind. Suddenly, you stopped spinning. Now your jet was headed straight for the ocean. As a kid, you loved the water; splashing around in it with your brother. Now? Not so much. Through heavy breaths, you blinked sluggishly. Everything felt funny. Your head became fuzzy, it was harder to breathe and you felt sick to your stomach.

And then everything went dark.

In front of you, Ice was focused on pulling the two of you out of the flat spin. The two of you were going to make it through this. He was sure of it.

Only one hundred meters away, Goose watched, helpless as his baby sister and her pilot spun out of control. He would never tell Maverick this, but if there was one person that he was confident could recover from a flat spin, it was Iceman. When you had followed Goose to the academy only a few years after him, needless to say, he was worried. He was even more worried when you were paired with the infamous Iceman. After all, you were his baby sister. Nick Bradshaw would lay his life down to protect you. And everyone knew that.

One night, only a few days after you and Iceman had been paired up, Goose approached the cocky pilot that he considered his friend. Regardless of the fact that some would have assumed that Goose was really questioning Ice’s skill, Ice knew that your brother was simply looking out for you. And that was something that he could understand. That night, your pilot had promised to protect you with his life. If he could help it, no harm would ever come to you.

A few months later, Goose met Maverick. Even though Mav wasn’t at the academy, the two grew inseparable almost instantly. You had met Mav many times before being reunited with the pilot at Top Gun, however, he had never met your pilot. When you walked into the first class only a few weeks ago, Maverick’s jaw dropped at the sight of you strutting in with Iceman’s arm thrown over your shoulders. Needless to say, he was a bit jealous.

Maverick was never a religious man. But now, even he was praying that Ice could pull this off. Right now, his ego didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except for saving you and Iceman. Did he like the pilot? No. Did that mean that he wanted to watch him crash into the ocean? Hell no. Especially not if it meant you were going with him. You and Goose were the only family he had left. He wasn’t about to lose you.

“Mayday! Mayday! Ice is in trouble!” Simultaneously, Maverick and Goose’s jaws dropped. They both watched Ice pull off a miracle. Your jet was no longer spinning out of control. Instead, it was rising steadily. Even over the coms, they could hear Ice breathe a sigh of relief. But they weren't quite done yet. The next step was getting all four of you back to land without another incident.

Back on land, you were lying on the tarmac, out cold with Ice, Mav, and your brother hovering protectively over you. Ever so slowly, you blinked your eyes open, gasping quietly at the sight of the three aviators hovering over you. You only had a second to process what was happening before Goose collapsed onto you, clinging to you for dear life. There was a small smile on your face as you hugged him back.

Ice and Maverick sat back on their heels and made eye contact. Where there normally would have been anger or disdain, there was now thankfulness and understanding. A nod was shared between the two. And then your brother was launching himself at Iceman. Chuckling at the sight of your pilot's shocked face, you sat up slowly with the help of Mav. Ice shot a dazzling smile at you from over your brother’s shoulder and patted his back in reassurance.

“Thank you,” Goose pulled back, his expression as serious as you had ever seen it. “Thank you so much for keeping her safe.” Everyone’s expressions became sombre at the reality of what could have happened. Ice only nodded at your brother.

You were the next to hug him, falling into his arms and sniffling into his chest. His strong arms wrapped securely around you, keeping you anchored to the ground, to him. You could have sworn you heard him sniffle, but no one else ever had to know. When you sniffled again, holding him tighter, he rocked the two of you back and forth. And neither your brother, nor Maverick, needed to know that he pressed a delicate kiss to your temple seconds later.

a/n: hope you enjoyed! Join the taglist!

Tagging: @ohtobeleah @xoxabs88xox @bradleybeachbabe @oldermenaremyreligion @els-marvelvsp @kmc1989 @nyx2021 @mploopssek @callsignharper @seitmai @kellyls04 @scarletmeii @inkandarsenic

315 notes · View notes

olsenmyolsen · 4 months

Text

I'm Free Tonight

master list

dark master list

MCU Compliant (Female Reader X Carol Danvers)

Summary: A lovely stranger saves you from a boring Christmas Gala.

Word Count: 2.8K

Content: Just Fluff

"You alone?"

You looked up from your seat at the round table and saw the blue eyes of a blonde you'd never seen before.

She wore a beautiful maroon and blue dress with a gold chest piece. Your dress looked silly in comparison, no matter how much your girlfr- ex girlfriend(?) paid for it.

And she wasn't cheap.

An heiress, some would call her.

Others used the word bitch.

You tore your eyes away from the blonde and gestured to a woman at the bar. Clearly drunk and openly flirting with one of the groomsmen. "Supposed to be with her."

The blonde looked where you pointed, and the curiosity on her face turned into one of disappointment.

Followed by a smirk.

"Well, I'm Carol. Carol Danvers." The blon- Carol switched her champagne flute from her right to her left hand. She extended the right to you when you looked up to her.

"Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N." You shook her hand and were surprised to feel a tight grip. You quickly realized how strong Carol was as you checked out the definition and muscles on her arms. "May I?" Carol pointed to the seat to the left of you. "Go ahead." You said with a smile that Carol reciprocated.

Carol also chose this seat so you'd be facing away from the bitch that left you alone.

You turned away from the bar and towards Carol. "How do you know the couple hosting?" Carol asked. "I don't. My date does."

That made sense. Since Carol noticed you hours earlier, she couldn't figure out how you wound up at a place like this. Surrounded by people whose hands were never clean. Politicians and models. Wall Street bros and CEO's. You stuck out—a ray of innocence and good radiated from you. Kind hearted.

Carol knew it to be true when she saw how awful your date treated you.

"Ah," Carol said as she lifted the glass and took a sip of the golden bubbles. "I hope you don't mind me asking... Who is she? Your date?" Carol set her glass down and looked at you in the eyes. "Oh, her name is-"

"Oh no, I'm sorry." Carol stopped you as she reached a hand out to your arm. "I meant, who is she to you."

It felt like a trick question, like Carol knew the truth.

Carol kept her fingers resting on your arm while waiting for your eyes to meet hers. "She's..."

You sighed.

Carol patted your arm. "Think about it." She removed her touch from you, and you missed her warm fingers.

You watched as they wrapped around the glass of champagne. "If it makes you feel better, I'm not supposed to be here," Carol spoke up with a shrug.

"You're not?" Carol watched your forehead crease when you didn't believe her. "No. I'm here doing a favor for a friend." You looked around the room, and like Carol did with you earlier, you couldn't believe someone like her could be here. "What friend?" You asked, making Carol smile.

"The King of Asgard, Valkyrie." She said casually without hesitation.

"Oh!" You said, surprised and bewildered. "I still have yet to visit New Asgard.." You really have been meaning to, but it's not like money grows on trees for you. "I hear it's lovely."

"It is," Carol replies. "So.." Carol leans closer. "Are you done thinking about my question from earlier? What is she..." Carol gestures to the woman you came here with. "..to you. Because she sure as hell isn't your girlfriend."

You followed Carol's eyes and saw the woman kissing the neck of a man you wouldn't give the time of day.

You turned back and looked at Carol.

You sighed and put both arms on the table in a defeated position. "I was her date for tonight, but no, I've never met her until two days prior when I was introduced by her team. I was hired to help clean up her image, but..." You looked back. "Looks like that's not happening."

Carol hummed. "So you're an escort?"

"Blunt, but yes... that's one word for it." You replied. Carol leaned back into her chair and appreciated the honesty coming from you.

"How much did she pay you?"

You certainly weren't expecting that question, and you couldn't tell by the smirk Carol was hiding behind her glass if she was serious or not.

So you decided to forget about the girl you came with and play the game Carol was hopefully playing.

"Why? Think you can afford me?"

That made the blonde laugh. "I know I can." Her voice was lower as she spoke to you. "But I'm not looking to pay. I want you if you want to come along."

That made something in your stomach twirl.

"And where would we go?"

"Wherever you want. But hopefully far away from here."

You peeled your eyes away from the blonde and looked around the room. It was dreadful and boring. This was presented as a Christmas gala, but it was nothing more than a night to fuck and make business deals to everyone else but you.

You were here for a job, but you were clearly left to your own devices.

Until Carol showed up.

"Okay." You said as you turned back to the blonde and nodded. "Let's get out of here."

Carol's eyes lit up. She watched you stand up and down your glass of champagne before extending your hand to her. Carol did the same with her glass before taking your hand. "Thank you." She smiled as she rose to her feet. "No, thank you!"

Carol led you out of the grand mansion you couldn't for the life of you remember the name of and to the valet kiosk. Carol handed the greying man a ticket stub and wrapped her arm around you as you two waited for his return.

"Is this okay?" She asked, forcing you to look up to her eyes. "Me... touching you? Holding you?" You nodded. "It's great." Carol smiled. "Good to know."

Carol felt your skin become scattered with goosebumps. She thought it might've been from the cold wind in the air, but if asked, you would've been honest and told her it was because of her—the blonde with her hand moving up and down your arm.

She smiled.

You two stood in silence, accepting the comfort the other one brought when the valet pulled up in a black sports car that would never be in your tax bracket.

"What a beautiful car, Miss. Please enjoy your evening." The man said to Caol as he handed her the keys before scurrying away.

She simply smirked and moved her arm from around you to your arm closest to her. "Shall we?" You nodded and let Carol lead you to the passenger door. She opened it for you and let go of you as you entered.

She watched the slit of your dress rise as you sat down in the brown leather seat. Her eyes then traveled down to your legs and the heels that went perfectly with your dress. "Good?" She then asked. "Good." You replied before Carol smiled and closed the door.

You watched her move around the front of the car and slide into the driver's seat. The seat adjusted to her, and you watched the steering wheel move to compliment her. "Wow." Carol turned to your voice.

"Kind of a lot, right?" You shrugged and looked into her blue eyes. "It's kinda cool." You tried to be nonchalant, but you were in awe of everything, and Carol knew it.

Carol hit some buttons on the display in the middle and found a radio station playing a pop hit.

Olivia Rodrigo specifically.

The music was kept at a lower volume as Carol waited for you to buckle up. "Safety first, sweetheart." She said, making your stomach flip at the pet name. "Sorry." You mumbled as your cheeks grew red, and Carol buckled herself up before turning up the heat and placing the car in drive.

"You hungry?" Carol hadn't eaten any of the fancy shit the gala was offering. It was all themed around the holiday, and she knew for a fact that you hadn't had a single bite.

You wanted to lie, but with Carol asking in a honey-dripping tone, and one look at her made you nod. "Starving." You said.

However, food wasn't the first thing you were thinking about eating.

Carol smirked as if she could read your mind.

She removed her right hand from the steering wheel and placed it on your thigh as she kept her eyes on the road. The speed of the car picking up.

Her palms on your skin burned with waves of pleasure. "I'll find somewhere for us," Carol said, making you nod. Carol briefly looked over at you and smiled.

She was loving the game that was being played.

In addition, she loved the touch of you. The feeling of your goosebumps spreading across your body every time her fingers lifted up and down your soft, ample skin.

She was also enjoying you—your company.

Carol never got to do stuff like this.

But she was making the most of tonight.

"Is this still okay?" Carol asked as her hand moved slightly up your thigh. Pushing your dress up. "Yes." You said as you buried a moan in your throat.

"Do I feel good? My touch against your body?" Carol asked as she turned her head to you. She watched your side profile nod and swallow before you parted your pink lips. "You feel so good, Carol."

Her blue eyes found the road again.

"Good, sweetheart." Carol patted your thigh and kept you wanting more. "You're doing so well for me."

You whimpered upon hearing the praises of a woman you just met. "Ah, here we go," Carol said, making you do your best to focus on what was worth pulling off the side of the road.

Surprised, you looked at Carol as she put the car in park.

Carol turned to you.

"What's wrong?" She unbuckled her seatbelt and brought a hand up to your face. Moving a hair behind your ear. "You said you were starving." You leaned into her touch ever so slightly and nodded. "I am."

"Then let's eat." Carol smiled and removed her touch from you again as she climbed out of the car.

You kept your eyes on Carol as she closed the door. You watched her pass in front of the neon 24/7 Diner sign before she made it to your passenger door. She opened it and quickly helped you out. "It's somehow gotten colder. Come on." Her hand and fingers became intertwined with yours as she pulled you to the front of the restaurant.

You two seated yourselves in a booth once you entered like a bunch of giggly teenagers.

There was only the waitstaff and three other patrons inside. You and Carol were obviously dressed the best.

"This definitely beats the Gala," Carol said, making you look up from your menu with a smile. "It does."

Carol placed her elbows on the table and rested her chin on her hand. "Tell me something," Carol said with a teasing smirk. "Are you enjoying how the night has gone?"

You dropped your menu onto the table. "I'm loving it. Thank you."

Carol shook her head. "No, thank you." Her leg rubbed up against yours in a gentle manner. "Now, what are you thinking about having?" Carol's eyes found the menu again, but you stared straight ahead.

Carol knew it.

"They don't have me on the menu." You brushed your leg higher against Carol. "Shame. Because I'd love a taste."

You were bold, and you didn't know where it was coming from, but tonight, with Carol, you felt free. You weren't being paid to be someone else. You felt like a new person. Or maybe it was just you being yourself? Regardless, you loved it.

After a waitress came by, you and Carol Danvers ordered cheeseburgers with a basket of fries and a shake, to split, obviously.

The food was wonderful, and the flirting mixed in with conversation was even better.

The highlight might have been when you showed Carol that you could, in fact, tie a cherry stem into a knot in your mouth. You held it between your teeth with pride as Carol smirked at you and, without warning, connected your lips together. Her tongue swiping the stem out of your mouth and into hers.

When she smiled a few seconds later, the knot was undone, and Carol couldn't help but wink at you.

You felt your stomach flip again.

"Whenever you're ready to leave, we can," Carol said to you, only to earn a nod.

Carol laughed at that and stood up as she placed a stack of uncounted bills from her clutch.

"Okay, so maybe you could afford me for the night." You said, taking Carols' hand as you slid out of the booth. "I told you." She smugly replied as she led you out of the diner.

The cold air catching you off guard, but your grip on Carols' hand remained strong. "Come on." She squeezed your hand and bit back a smile before you two ended up on the driver's side of the car.

Carol held the key in her other hand.

"What?" You asked as Carol looked at your eyes. "You're just beautiful." The blonde said, moving her body to be pressed up against yours.

You stumbled a step back as you found your back up against Carols car.

"Is this still okay?" Carols breath was shaky as she held her lips dangerously close to yours.

In the neon glow of the diner sign, you nodded. "Just kiss me again." Carol held in a moan as she did what you asked. The softness of her lips landed on yours.

You pulled her body closer.

Her hands found your hips and squeezed them, making you squeal in delight. "Fuck Carol!" You laughed into Carols mouth.

"Oh, you're such a pretty girl," Carol replied in a hushed tone as she pushed her front up against you more. Feeling the tremble in your legs and warmth from your pussy.

But the sweetest bit was the taste of chocolate on your lips.

"I want you." You moaned into Carols ear.

Carol couldn't be happier. "I want you too." She kissed your neck, jaw, and lips again.

You bit your lips and looked up at her. "Let's go then." You turned around and pressed your ass against Carol and made a gesture for the car keys, but Carol smiled before laughing. "Oh, no, baby. I don't think so."

You tilted your head as you were still catching your breath. "And why is that?" You opened the car door and waited for Carol's answer.

That's when you watched Carol's hand curl and close around the key. Suddenly, her hand began to glow bright and orange. You couldn't believe what you were seeing, and when she opened her hand again, the key was nothing but a pile.

You waited for an answer.

"Remember that story I told you? About the pilot?"

Carol tilted her hand, and you both watched the remnants of the key fall to the asphalt.

You looked up to Carol and thought back to the story she told you across the booth earlier. "So it was you? You have powers?" Carol nodded and made her hands glow again. "What about your car?" You asked honestly.

"The car and cash were never mine." The glow from her hands faded as she stepped into space between your legs. "It was your awful heiress of a date."

Carol touched the top of your head and ran her hand down the side of your face. "I think you and I had a better time than you would with her." She purrs as she kisses your cheek. "Don't you think?"

You nod and move your lips to brush hers. "I do." You find Carol's hands and hold them. "I can work with this."

"Are you sure?"

Carol asks, even though both want this.

"Yes."

Carol kisses you and pulls you close. "Hold on to me." You wrap your arms tightly around Carol's body, and slowly, you feel your feet leave the ground. "Keep your eyes on me," Carol said, and when you looked at her, you saw that her dress had changed into a suit.

One a superhero would wear.

"You brought us back..." You whispered into the space between the two of you. She heard you.

You watched as Carol glowed brighter, and the speed at which you two were flying increased.

You and Carol slept together that night, and you remember the feeling of warmth when you woke up next to her and a cat named Goose in the bed on her spaceship.

That was five months ago, and as you watch Carol fly down to a planet below, you can't help but smile.

You weren't alone.

dividers by @/benkeibear

209 notes · View notes

ghouljams · 5 months

Text

Viking!Ghost

Shepherd's flock Keeping Warm Locked in Courted

#cod x reader #x reader #x oc #cod x oc #shepherd!Goose #oc: goose #viking au #simon ghost riley #master list #female oc

124 notes · View notes

callsignthirsty · 3 months

Text

Stuck at the Navy Ball

So… I decided I wasn’t done playin’ with the boys.

As this is a continuation of the original Stuck in the Middle fic, I highly recommend that you read through that before diving into this. Could you dive headfirst into this? Yes. There might be a little confusion, though.

Inspired by a comment someone left on SitM over on AO3.

Pairing: Tom “Iceman” Kazansky x F!Reader x Ron “Slider” Kerner Summary: You, Ice, and Sli haven’t lost that loving feeling. So when the flyboys are reunited at the 1986 Navy Ball, it's only natural that they bring a bit of chaos with them. Word Count: 4200 Warnings: Smut, bets and wagers, under-negotiated situations (but everyone involved is fine), fingering Chapter: 1/4 Minors DNI

gif originally posted by neuromancer1888

Chapter 1: Under the Table

The invitation arrives early in September, printed on thick cardstock and addressed to your brother. But if Viper’s words are to be believed—and you’ve yet to hear of a situation in which they aren’t—Pete’s attendance isn’t exactly optional. So the summons finds its way from the trash onto the fridge, rough edges taped back together.

Please Join Us For the 211th Navy Ball. Monday, October 13th Washington D.C.

Cocktail Hour 1700 | Ceremony Begins 1800 Live Music. Food. Dancing.

The same invitation has Carole positively giddy. Born and raised in Virginia, she’s been looking for an excuse to fly east to visit her parents. And for a party? Isn’t that swell! Arrangements are made for Bradley to sleep at his grandparents on the night of the ball before Goose—whose PT-mandated wheelchair has landed him desk duty—is home from work.

Which is how, roughly one month later, you find yourself in Goose’s room at the Hyatt Regency on Capitol Hill, sharing precious mirror space with Carole. Breathing in Aqua Net while putting the finishing touches on your looks.

The hotel calls the four of you a taxi, Goose’s wheelchair is stuffed into the trunk, and then you’re off to meet your date.

Singular.

There hadn’t been a question of if you’d attend or whose arm you’d decorate once Pete’s invite arrived. Officially, you’re at the ball with Ice. After Layton, Ice had made it a point to be seen with you while he was off-duty. Your relationship, which you’d tried to keep on the down-low, was worth showing off publicly after he and your brother had dropped their rivalry in favor of mutual respect. Friendship.

But the other half of your relationship was still very much under wraps.

That fact hadn’t stopped you from nodding eagerly when Ice pulled you close to ask you to attend the Navy Ball with him. Ice wants to climb the ladder, and earning stars is more than clambering into the cockpit every morning or disappearing on a carrier for the better part of a year at a time. It’s politics. It’s achieving perceived milestones on or ahead of schedule. And in October, for Lieutenant Tom “Iceman” Kazansky, naval aviator and promotion hopeful, it’s attending the Navy Ball with a woman on his arm.

Pete wrestles the wheelchair out of the trunk while Goose pays the cab driver. As you step into the crisp October evening, you marvel at the palatial, white-stone building that is to be the backdrop of your night. A steady flow of servicemen and women crossing beneath grand archways with their dates for the promise of a good night.

You aren’t left alone to gawk for long before you catch sight of them chatting with someone or another: decked in their whites, Slider leaning against the wrought iron rail and Ice to his side. Ice’s gaze flicks to you instantaneously, as if he’d felt your eyes land on him. The natural pout of his lips morphs into a grin as he excuses himself from the conversation and moves toward you against the flow of the crowd. Slider follows close behind, ultimately making his way to Goose, Carole, and your brother. But you catch the hesitation in his step. The course-correct.

Events like these will be challenging for the three of you—that had been a foregone conclusion—but this knowledge doesn’t make it any easier. It feels all sorts of wrong to have Slider keep himself at such a purposeful distance when you’re used to his proximity. Even at the O Club, he manages to stand close. Doesn’t shy away.

Before your mood can be irreparably embittered, Ice takes your hand in his and coaxes you into a slow spin. “You’re beautiful,” he coos as he kisses your cheek, and a delicate smile lights your lips.

The dress had been a surprise. Something you’d insisted on buying yourself despite Ice and Slider offering to pool their money for something truly extravagant. But after years spent in the foster system, even the thought of spending money on something so frivolous left a bad taste in your mouth. Instead, you’d taken Carole, your more comfortable budget, and found an old gala dress at a thrift shop. The sleek, black velvet gown up to your collarbones with the slightest sparkle as the fabric shifted beneath the store’s old lights ticked all your self-imposed boxes. A dress fit for an aspirational young officer’s date, even after Carole added a slit up the left side to show a little leg and “bring the dress into this decade.”

“Look who’s talking,” you say, squeezing Ice’s arm as it’s offered to you. Typically, the change of season calls for blues, but the Navy Ball is an exception to the rule. You wonder whose wife you have to thank for that because although your boys look damn fine in both, you have a not-so-hidden preference. “And Kerner didn’t clean up so bad, either,” you shoot in Slider’s direction with a playful grin.

“Surprised?” Slider asks, brow raised. You shrug because, no, you’re not surprised, but you aren’t sure what to say that will fly under the radar. And that’s the name of the night’s game. That doesn’t stop Pete from rolling his eyes as he passes you with Goose and Carole on their way to the building’s ramp.

The closest you ever got to a ball before tonight was prom—not yours; you’d been on staff at the venue. Frankly, you’d half expected you and Pete to have been blacklisted, given your father’s ill-gotten reputation, but they let you in without issue. You wonder if Pete’s face appearing on the front page of every magazine in the English-speaking world has anything to do with it, but you keep that to yourself while Ice, ever the gentleman, escorts you further into the event.

If the outside of the building is beautiful, then the inside is magnificent: all barrel vaulted ceilings decorated with Romanesque gold leafing and warm mahogany. A vast hall that steadily fills as guests arrive for cocktail hour and to mingle before the evening officially kicks off.

Slider spots Carole’s shock of blonde hair by a table with easy access for Goose and herds Ice in her direction. They aren’t alone at the table. “Merlin,” Slider barks, bounding over to shake his fellow RIO’s hand. “I thought you were stationed over the Atlantic. What’re you doing here?”

“Turned out to be an exercise. Over and back in sixty-two days.”

“And just in time for the party,” the woman at his side chips in, and Merlin wraps an arm around her to pull her close.

“Oh! Tom Kazansky, Ron Kerner, my wife, Laura.” Ice takes the opportunity to introduce you in turn. The conversation is easy-going, Ice and Slider filling Merlin in on their time instructing at Miramar.

Slider gets in several quips about Ice having a list of officers whose asses he needs to kiss to speed up a promotion when Ice spies one of said officers. He gently tugs you in the right direction so you can play the part of the doting girlfriend. The officer—a captain—quickly introduces you to his wife before he and Ice talk shop.

You manage to pluck a champagne flute from a waiter’s tray, sipping daintily and nodding along with the captain’s wife. Considering most of your knowledge concerning the Navy revolves around the planes your brother flies and the stunts he’s pulled in them, the conversation goes in one ear and out the other.

Not that it matters. Your role tonight—thankfully—is just to follow Ice around and look pretty.

The captain’s wife finishes her champagne in record time, and though you’re hesitant at first, you aren’t too far behind her. It is at this point, glass empty, that Slider appears like your guardian angel. “Captain,” he nods. “Ice.”

“Captain Reid, have you met my RIO?” Ice asks, knowing full well that Slider has no interest in schmoozing. Much like your brother, Slider is there because it is expected of him. Unlike Pete, Ice doesn’t need his friend’s emotional support or commiseration to make it through such events, mandatory or otherwise. Every opportunity like this is one Ice can use to his advantage.

Slider offers the captain a firm handshake. “Lieutenant Ron Kerner, sir.”

“Your RIO? I thought you were stationed at Miramar?”

“The perks of winning the trophy, sir,” pride leaks through as Slider says it. He and Ice worked damn hard to finish at the top of their class. “We’ve been together since flight school. When Ice took a teaching position at TOPGUN, I followed.”

“And how does a man of your stature fit in the cockpit, lieutenant?” the captain’s wife asks from beneath heavily painted lashes.

The grin Slider offers her is loose. “It’s a bit of a squeeze, but no complaints so far.” The minute narrowing of Ice’s eyes says behave. You nearly avoid snorting, hiding the unladylike compulsion behind the rim of your empty flute, a reflection off the crystal drawing Slider’s eye.

“Actually,” Slider says, hand twitching as if he’s had to stop himself from resting it against your back, “I noticed your glass is empty.” Sli nods toward the bar, an invitation to refill your glass. You look up at him with a grin—a genuine one, not the soft smile that’s grown stale throughout Ice’s conversation—acceptance on your lips when–

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Ice’s brow wrinkles, noticing for the first time that you’ve finished your drink.

”I didn’t want to interrupt,” is your bashful answer.

”Don’t be ridiculous,” Ice says. “I’ll come with you.”

”You don’t have to leave.” Slider will take care of me, you don’t say.

Ice picks up on the silent part but blatantly ignores it. His eyes take on that warm, charmed look, tongue peeking out before his lips curl into that honeyed smile you love so much. “You’re too good for me,” he says as if it’s a secret meant only for you. There’s no doubt he means it, but something about the way he’s playing the sentiment up for the brass makes it feel different in a way you’re not entirely comfortable with. No mistakes. “If you’ll excuse us, sir. Ma’am.”

Captain Reid is already turning to walk the room with his wife when Ice’s eyes narrow into what can only be described as a glare at Slider, his arm cementing itself around your waist in a way that probably looks far more relaxed than it feels.

”What?” Slider asks, shooting for casual, but now you’re not sure you’re buying it, either. “I’m just trying to do my part so you can talk to everyone on your list.” The subconscious flex of Ice’s jaw, as if he wishes he could chew out his frustration on the butt of a cig or some gum, doesn’t go unnoticed, but it does go unheeded. “Admiral Benjamin is on your list, right?” You perk up. As in Penny Benjamin? “I think I saw him by the corner with wife number three and Commander Johnson.”

“You know,” Ice says, his grin glacial, “it wouldn’t be such a bad thing if you rubbed elbows at an event like this.”

Slider scoffs, though it’s affectionate. “Why bother? We both know my military career ends when you take a desk job. Besides, I think my time is much better spent keeping your date’s cup full.” You’ve all agreed to go to the bar, but no one is moving. The tension between Ice and Slider is palpable.

”Okay,” you interrupt. There’s something off about their banter tonight. You’ve seen Ice stare down many a handful of people since landing in Miramar, but never Slider. It’s enough to raise a sculpted brow. “What am I missing?”

Slider senses blood in the water. Sees the smoke in the air. The grin he gives you is far tighter than the one he gave the captain’s wife. He opens his mouth, but Ice beats him to the punch. “You said something about grabbing my date a drink.”

Slider’s jaw clicks shut, but his grin isn’t so easily wiped away. “More champagne?” When you nod, Slider picks his way toward the bar while Ice escorts you to the side of the room where there’s more room to breathe and a lesser likelihood that someone will overhear when he presses close. “Sli’s upset that you’re with me tonight.”

That’s it? You hadn’t thought the arrangement would bother Slider so much. The three of you had discussed it and mutually concluded that you should go with Ice. That you had to go with Ice. Was Slider having second thoughts?

“Well, not upset,” Ice concedes at the concern that drags your lips down. “But he was talking a big game.”

Color you curious. “What’d he say?”

“Well,” Ice pulls you closer so his breath tickles your ear and you can smell the mint on his breath, “he thinks he can get you off before we leave the building. Steal you away while you’re being my pretty little girlfriend for the brass.” You gulp. Where is Slider with that drink?

”Oh.”

Ice chuckles. “Yeah. Oh. But I’m not worried.” Two fingers find their way under your chin and lift until your eyes meet Ice’s. “I know you’ll be good for me.”

“What’s the winner get?”

”Bragging rights.”

”And?”

It’s impossible to miss the way Ice’s eyes flit to your lips and linger there because he can. Those are the perks of being your date out in the light of day. “Can’t that be it?”

“Could be,” you breathe and slowly wet your bottom lip with your tongue, delighting in the way gray-blue eyes track the movement, “but it isn’t.”

Ice double-checks that no one is eavesdropping on your conversation. “You remember what got delivered the other day?” Your breath hitches. Yeah. You remember the catalog order you’d put in for a remote-controlled toy. The excitement and disappointment that had come with unfortunate delivery schedules. “Single-night, exclusive access once we’re all home.”

”That’s quite a lot on the line.”

”It would be,” Ice concedes, one large hand spanning the small of your back, warming you and holding you close enough you can breathe in his cologne, “but you can be good for me, right, baby? I’ll make it worth your while.” You nod, a little dumb as you inhale teakwood, sage, and sea salt.

It’s sure to be a profoundly satisfying night as long as you can stick to the script.

“I’m not going to make it easy on you,” Slider promises, appearing by Ice’s shoulder.

”Wouldn’t be fun if you did.” Ice’s smirk is all cocky confidence, cracking only when he notices Slider has only fetched two flutes of champagne.

”Only got two hands, Tommy,” Slider says with a toothy grin, “but I’ll keep her company while you grab yourself a glass.” The crystal buzzes with the steady fizz of bubbles, your fingers brushing Sli’s ever so slightly before Ice pulls you back into the throng.

The room becomes more difficult to navigate with each new attendee, but Ice only seems more in his element as cocktail hour drags on. He introduces you to a flurry of officers and their wives whose jewel-tone dresses all start to blend together, brushing shoulders with the men who ultimately control his upward trajectory.

On his arm, you smile and nod, interjecting where appropriate because, despite the smattering of female officers present, the Navy remains very much a boy’s club.

Still, it’s nice to be shown off so publicly. To delight in the knowledge that Ice’s attention never strays far from you despite his planned schmoozing. You preen each time he introduces you to someone new with a tender look—there are many things tonight that may be manufactured, but that look isn’t one of them.

An ache blooms in the ball of your foot as Ice delivers on the same script over and over to increasingly dismal company. The throbbing is nothing compared to the pinpricks in your cheeks, though. Beauty pageant smiles are their own form of torture. But this is important.

It’s all for a good cause.

Tonight is important to Ice, so it’s important to you.

You’d do anything for your boys: ignore every sour expression at your last name, force a pleasant laugh along with each rear admiral’s wife, stifle a relieved sigh when everyone is invited to find their seats for dinner.

The flyboys have claimed three closely clustered tables during your absence, forcing others to walk around them as they spill into the spaces between each table, leaning close to make up for the distance forced by post-graduation reassignments. Viper is curiously absent, or perhaps Jester had pulled the short straw and been stuck with babysitting duties.

But there’s someone you don’t recognize at your table, sat between Merlin and Slider, a stranger in your midst. A smile splits Ice’s face when he spots him. “Cougar?” The man stands and pulls Ice into a quick embrace, Ice’s hand on the man’s—Cougar’s—shoulder. Ice makes quick work of introducing you to Bill Cortell and his wife, Maria. “Cougar and I were like brothers in flight school,” Ice beams. “We were supposed to meet up at TOPGUN, but–”

”It turned out for the best,” Cougar cuts Ice off goodnaturedly with a quick nod toward Pete. “Besides, desk life isn’t so bad.” Ice raises a brow at the assertion while Goose lets out a ‘bullshit!’ “Okay,” he cedes, “it’s pretty bad, but I wouldn’t give up being at home with Maria and the kids for the world.” Maria, who is heavily pregnant, rests her hand over her bundle of joy.

The lights choose that moment to dim, commanding stragglers to find their seats, but neither man moves. Slider stands up. “Here,” he offers Ice his seat on Cougar’s left because the two clearly have some catching up to do. Ice takes the seat while you slide over to stay seated next to him, and Slider takes your spot as the lights come up on the stage for the opening ceremony.

By the time everyone is seated and some speaker makes his way to center stage, Ice is only half paying attention to the night’s program. He and Cougar have a lot to catch up on in appropriately hushed whispers. You’re about to zone out when you’re yanked back to the present by a hand on your knee.

Above the table, for prying eyes, Slider doesn’t give anything away. Attention seemingly focused on the stage. Below the table’s skirt, however, you press your thighs together as Slider’s hand massages the skin exposed by the modified slit in your dress. Familiar callouses drawing senseless patterns above your knee. His hand stays there, occasionally giving you a comforting squeeze, like he knows you crave reassurance through gentle touches after being dragged so far out of your comfort zone. It’s nice. Before long, between the buzz of quiet conversation and each soothing caress, you relax back into your chair.

Polite applause fills the room as the admiral gives the podium to the next presenter. Pete and Carole chuckle at something Goose murmurs. Wolfman yawns. Someone coughs. A waiter comes around to top off champagne.

You wrap your fingers around the delicate stem of your flute, raising it to your lips in the same instant that Slider’s palm shifts so it’s wedged between your thighs. Your sharp breath is lost in the crowd as nimble fingers creep higher, never once pausing their massage.

The corner of Slider’s lip tugs the slightest bit up. Smug bastard. When you’re sure no one is paying attention, you give his wrist a tug, but instead of retreating, Slider brushes a finger against the flimsy fabric of your panties.

Your heart jumps into your throat as you become hyper-aware of how loud your breathing is, and your brain kicks into overdrive. Can anyone hear you over the clink of glasses? Your nails dig into the meat of Slider’s wrist in surprise, but you’re fairly confident that the rest of you looks normal—suddenly, you’re not sure what that means.

Is this the way a normal person’s mouth rests? The way a normal person sits in their chair? You need to leave, but you can’t. Being good for Ice, among other things, means not causing a scene. Not fleeing the room in the middle of a presentation. Not letting anyone know that while your boyfriend dutifully splits his time between the podium and his colleague, his RIO is pushing your underwear to the side for better access to your cunt. How you’re responding to his touch.

“Hey.” Pete’s giving you a strange look from across the table. “You okay?” From the way he’s pulled a face, you missed the bar for normal, and now Goose and Carole are also looking your way.

“I’m fine,” you hiss. “I-” need a distraction. You mentally stumble as Slider continues to stroke up and down your slit, his fingers spreading the wetness until they glide effortlessly through your lips.

The universe grants your wish when the crowd bursts into polite applause and the mic is turned over to the next speaker. “Isn’t that Admiral Benjamin?”

“As in Penny Benjamin?” Carole perks up, sitting tall in an attempt to get a better look at the stage while Pete bangs his head onto the table. Probably. You’re admittedly not paying attention.

Pleasure zings up your spine as thick fingers nudge your clit. A reward for redirecting the eyes on you. It’s everything you can do not to press your hips into the pressure or let your head loll back with a gasp. And with Penny’s father keeping attention off of you, Slider hooks an ankle around yours to encourage your legs further apart.

You shouldn’t, but Slider has always been convincing.

Ice won’t be particularly pleased with how promptly you gave into Slider’s suggestions, how readily your legs fall open, but that’s barely a blip on your radar as firm circles rub into your clit. The devil on your shoulder whispers that if Ice had really wanted to win, he shouldn’t have allowed himself to be so easily distracted.

None of that matters nearly as much as it should when your heart pulses between your legs.

A hand lands on your velvet-covered thigh. Ice. “Sweetheart.” You whip your head around too quickly for the move to be anything but suspicious. Like you’ve been caught with your hand—or someone else’s—in the cookie jar. You try to focus on the cool, grounding pressure of his touch. It’s working, you think, but your leg is still trembling from the effort it takes to keep still. Keen eyes move from your face to your leg, trembling under his touch, to your lap, and then to Slider, where they narrow almost imperceptibly. “You alright?”

With a nod, you reach past your champagne for water to wet your dry throat. “Just taking it all in.”

A poor choice of words. Ever the opportunist, Slider presses a finger into your hole, the stretch delicious and unexpected enough that you almost choke. If anyone catches the color on your cheeks, you hope they’ll blame your earlier drinks.

“I was just saying I didn’t know Maverick had a sister,” Cougar says, this time loud enough for the table to hear him.

“He doesn’t talk about me much.”

“Yeah,” Pete scoffs, “because when people find out about you, this–” he gestures between you and Ice “–happens.”

“You got any other sisters, Mav?” Chipper’s question from the next table over prompts Pete to load a pomegranate seed onto this salad fork. He’s ready to launch, but a disapproving look from Jester dissuades him. Goose flips Chipper the bird in a show of solidarity.

“So when did this happen?” Cougar asks, eyes flitting from you to the blonde on your right.

Slider chuckles and leans into the conversation at the same time as he crooks his fingers. You bite the inside of your cheek. The circles Ice is rubbing into your knee aren’t as distracting as either of you wants them to be. “He hasn’t been able to keep his hands off of her since we made it to Miramar.”

Hypocrite. You clear your throat. “About five months?”

“Aw,” Maria sighs in that way so many in long-term relationships do. You try and fail to focus on that as a second finger prods at your opening before pushing in slowly. “You’re still in the honeymoon phase.” Thankfully, Ice steps in with a reply because all you can hear is the blood rushing in your ears when Slider rubs his fingers against your sweet spot, thumb applying steady pressure to your clit. Your nails dig crescent moons into Ice’s wrist in a last-ditch attempt to ground yourself because if Slider keeps this up, it’s going to take a miracle to keep you from causing a scene.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Viper’s unapologetic quip appears from seemingly nowhere. Your own personal savior. “I need to borrow Iceman and Slider, Maverick and Merlin, Hollywood and Wolfman.”

You shiver at the abrupt emptiness. Slider wipes his fingers, dripping with arousal, off on the tablecloth, eyes locked on Ice.

Next Chapter

109 notes · View notes

lesbianpepsi · 9 months

Text

amber freeman x reader - fake texts

summary: goose is still deulu and tired after their shift

#goose chats #amber freeman #amber freeman x reader #amber freeman x you #amber freeman x fem reader #amber freeman x y/n #amber freeman x female reader #scream five #fake texts #amber freeman scream #amber freeman fake texts

293 notes · View notes

fictionadventurer · 10 months

Text

If your WIP became a TV show, what would the theme song be like? Instrumental? A repurposed pop song? A specially-written song with lyrics that explain the premise? A five-second musical sting over the show logo?

#adventures in writing #if lily between worlds can count as a wip #then it would have a lightly dreamy yet upbeat pop song by a female singer #with thematically appropriate lyrics about learning who you are and finding your place in the world #as far as retellings go #both the tattercoats and goose girl retellings could have dreamy and faintly celtic instrumentals #over a series of pastoral and fairy tale images

175 notes · View notes

neon-tigre95 · 3 months

Text

🪿 i just found out the word for male geese is a gander?? only females are called goose? where do the lies end?! 🪿

#scott pilgram fanart #scott pilgram takes off #scott pilgrim fandom #scott pilgrim #scottpilgramfanart #scott pilgram vs the world #jason schwartzman #gideon graves fanart #gideon graves #gordon goose #gordon goose fanart #gideon x julie #female gaze #so babygirl #pathetic evil babyman

57 notes · View notes

bradshawsbaby · 2 years

Text

Until I Saw You

Pairing: Rooster x Future Wife!Reader (featuring mentions of Goose x Carole)

Author’s Note: I wrote this based on this request I received, though it definitely ended up being longer than the drabble I said I’d write. It’s a counterpart of sorts to You, Me, and Karaoke, since it features Rooster’s perspective on the first time he laid eyes on the future Mrs. Bradshaw.

Warnings: Nothing but lots and lots of fluff!

“Mom, how do you know when you’ve found the one?”

He was fifteen years old and his heart had just been trampled by the girl he’d been dating for the past six months. It hurt, no doubt, to be dumped out of the blue, but the more he thought about it, the more he realized that his ego had taken a harder hit than his heart. Shouldn’t he have been more broken up about it? Maybe. But he wasn’t. And that had led him to wonder how he would ever know if he’d found the right girl.

His mom, standing at the sink washing dishes, looked over at where he was sitting at their kitchen table, glumly eating a bowl of ice cream.

“Aw, honey,” she sighed in understanding, drying her hands on a dish towel and walking over to wrap her arms around him. “That girl didn’t know what she had in my darling Bradley,” she grinned, planting a big kiss on his cheek. “I never really liked her anyway,” she added, straightening up and taking the seat across from him at the table.

“Mom!” Bradley groaned, pushing his bowl of ice cream away and running a hand down his face.

“What?” Carole scoffed, batting her eyes innocently. “I didn’t. She wasn’t the right girl for you.”

“But how will I know when a girl is the right girl for me?” Bradley pressed, returning to his original question.

His mom was quiet for a moment, a thoughtful expression on her face as she contemplated his question. “I’m not sure how well I can really explain it, but I’ll give it a try,” she began slowly, tapping her chin lightly. “When you meet the girl who’s the one, you’ll just know—”

“But how will I know?” Bradley demanded impatiently, an exasperated expression on his face.

“Don’t interrupt your mother,” Carole told him with a twinkle in her eye, biting back a laugh. He looked so much like his father when he made faces like that, a fact that simultaneously warmed and broke her heart. “I’m getting there.”

“Sorry,” Bradley murmured sheepishly, resting an elbow on the table and leaning in closer to hear what his mother had to say.

Smiling, Carole nodded. “Mhm. So as I was saying, when you meet the right girl, you’ll just know. You’ll feel it right here in your chest,” she explained, placing a hand over her heart. “She’ll light you up from the very inside and make you forget that there were ever any other girls you could have ever possibly had eyes for. She’ll make it hard for you to breathe, but in the best way possible. And you’ll just know,” she finished firmly, as if she had just recited a scientific fact.

Bradley sat in silence for a few moments, mulling over his mother’s words. Then he glanced up at her and smiled slightly. “Is that how it was with you and Dad?”

Carole laughed at that, though her eyes got that look in them, the look Bradley had seen countless times throughout the years whenever they talked about his father—a mingled look of love and grief and joy and pain. “Oh, yes,” she nodded, gently fingering her wedding band. “Lord knows I never knew how to breathe properly when your daddy was around. Did I ever tell you what he told me once, about the first time he saw me?”

Bradley shook his head and leaned forward eagerly. He loved the stories his mom told about his dad. They always made him feel so real, like he was sitting right there beside them.

“He was with Mav, naturally,” Carole grinned, resting her cheek in her hand as she recalled that day as if it was yesterday. “They came in for lunch at the restaurant where I was waitressing. Your dad said that while they were waiting for a table, he saw me running a huge order out of the kitchen and it felt like the whole world stopped turning. For a second, it was just me and him and no one else.” She smiled, her eyes getting misty the way they did whenever she talked about him. “And then he apparently told the hostess that he needed to be seated at a table in my section. Mav backed him up, of course, saying they’d wait as long as they had to for a table to open up,” she laughed.

“And the rest is history?” Bradley grinned, nudging his mother affectionately. He knew his friends would think it was mushy, but he loved hearing stories about his parents’ relationship. They’d gotten married so young, and yet had so few years together. He would never get tired of hearing stories about the time they got to share with one another.

“And the rest is history,” Carole nodded, reaching over and squeezing his hand. “And to think, your dad and I grew up just a few towns apart from each other and never met before then. Fate has a funny way of working things out the way they’re meant to happen,” she told him, that sad look flashing through her eyes quickly.

“So that’s how I’ll know then? When I see her and the whole world stops turning?” Bradley asked, taking his father’s words about his mother to heart.

“That’s how you’ll know,” his mom affirmed, rising from her seat and dropping a kiss on the top of his head. “And what a lucky girl she’ll be, the girl my baby chooses to spend the rest of his life with,” she said, pinching his cheek playfully. “That girl I know I’ll like, unlike Miss What’s-Her-Face,” she added with a laugh, walking back over to the sink.

“Thanks, Mom,” Bradley murmured, rising as well and walking over to press a kiss to his mother’s cheek. “I’ll finish the dishes. You go relax.”

“See? A lucky girl indeed,” Carole smiled, squeezing her son’s arm and taking him up on his offer.

Bradley spent the rest of that night, and the days and weeks that followed, contemplating his mother’s words and taking them deeply to heart.

In the years that followed, especially the years after he had to bury his mother, Bradley never forgot what she had told him that night. But he also never found what she had described. He dated lots of girls, sure, and even thought he loved a couple of them, but he never found the one who lit him up from the inside, the one who made the world stop turning the way his mom had done for his dad.

On his loneliest days, he often wondered if he’d ever find what his parents had shared. Maybe the love they’d had for each other, the kind that made it hard to breathe in all the best ways, was just too rare for him to find. Maybe the woman that was meant for him just wasn’t out there at all. It was a depressing thought that he tried to push out of his mind, but as the years passed, it plagued him more and more.

“I don’t know, Mom and Dad,” he’d murmur sometimes, when he felt lost and adrift. “I don’t know if I’ll ever find her.”

Finding “her,” the elusive woman of his dreams, was honestly the last thing on Bradley’s mind when he walked into The Hard Deck with Phoenix, Bob, Payback, Fanboy, Coyote, and Hangman that night. They’d had a long day of training exercises and were just looking to cut loose with some drinks and a few rounds of pool.

He had certainly not been counting on you.

It had been a few weeks since he’d had the time to stop by Penny’s bar, so he hadn’t been aware that she’d hired anyone new to work the floor, running orders from the bar and the kitchen. He hadn’t been in the bar for more than five minutes when his eyes suddenly landed on you.

And the whole world stopped turning.

He had never seen any woman as beautiful as you. With your bright eyes and infectious smile, your cheeks flushed from the heat of the crowded bar, and little wisps of hair escaping from your ponytail and kissing your forehead and cheeks—he didn’t know how to take his eyes off you. And suddenly he found himself wondering how there ever could have been any other girls he possibly could have wanted.

Because he couldn’t tear his gaze away from you, he noticed, well before you did, the bag that someone had carelessly left sitting in the middle of the floor. With your focus fixed firmly on the bar, you didn’t see it at all, in fact, and Bradley knew that you were going to trip right over it. Without a second thought, he shot his arm out and quickly wrapped it around your waist, steadying you as you stumbled before you could fall to the floor.

“Oh, thank you! I—”

If you said anything else, Bradley didn’t hear it because at that moment you lifted your eyes to look at him and his chest tightened inexplicably. It felt strangely warm in a way he had never experienced before. He found that it suddenly seemed hard to catch a breath, and yet he didn’t mind at all. He gladly would have forgone breathing altogether if you just kept looking at him with those gorgeous eyes of yours.

“Careful, darling,” he chuckled, his hand resting gently on your elbow. He bit his tongue, wondering if he should have called you “darling.” Somehow, though, it felt right.

Your lips parted slightly and his heart did a somersault in his chest and then Hangman’s voice cut through the crowd and ruined it all.

“Bradshaw! Quit flirting and get your ass over here for your turn or you forfeit!” he called from the pool table.

He could really kill Hangman sometimes.

Gazing down at you and smiling apologetically, Bradley slowly turned away and walked back over to his friends, but not without shooting several more glances your way over his shoulder. He felt the breath return to his lungs only after you were out of sight. Yet it wasn’t a feeling that filled him with relief, as being able to breathe should. Instead, he found himself searching for you all night, craving the lightheadedness that came when the world stopped turning.

His breath caught in his throat whenever he spotted you and his heart soared whenever he caught you gazing back at him. You always looked away first, an adorable look of sheepishness crossing your face when he caught you staring. Though he tried, he wasn’t able to talk to you for the rest of the night, which crushed him a bit.

“I didn’t know you hired some new waitresses, Penny,” he said, feigning a nonchalance he certainly didn’t feel as he closed out his tab a couple hours later.

“Just one,” Penny smirked, a knowing look gleaming in her eyes. “She’s very sweet. I think you’d like her,” she added with a grin.

Bradley tried not to choke at that, rapping his knuckles on the bartop as he nodded stiffly. “Good night, Penny.”

“Good night, Rooster,” Penny chuckled, her gaze drifting between him and you as he made his way out of the bar. She had a feeling she was going to be seeing a lot more of him in the coming weeks.

Climbing into his Ford Bronco, Bradley let out a soft sigh and ran his fingers through his hair. In spite of himself, he couldn’t help but grin as he thought back over the past couple hours. He rather liked the feeling of the whole world coming to a standstill.

Glancing down at the picture of his parents that he kept tucked in the center console of his car, he smiled. “I think I found her, Mom and Dad,” he told them. He knew somehow, without being able to explain it, that they were smiling, too.

And as he drove home that night, one thought kept running through his mind over and over again.

I’m gonna marry that girl someday.

#bradley rooster bradshaw #mrs. bradshaw #rooster x wife!reader #rooster x reader #x female reader #goose x carole #top gun #top gun: maverick #miles teller #mr. & mrs. bradshaw

2K notes · View notes

mrsroosterbradshaw · 11 months

Text

MATILDA

soundtrack: Matilda by Harry Styles ™️

bradley “rooster” bradshaw x fem!reader

tw: cursing, absent parents, kissing

bradley was hanging out in his room with all of his groomsmen getting ready for his wedding that was happening in almost 2 hours when phoenix came barreling through the door looking very worried.

“rooster!” she frantically yelled out.

“phoenix, calm down and tell me what happened?” bradley asked in a calm voice to try to calm his fellow aviator down.

“it’s y/n! she is having a panic attack and nobody knows how to calm her down except you. we really need your help.” she said.

bradley wasted no time jumping out of his seat and bolting out the door and down the stairs to the bridesmaid’s room. when he got there, he didn’t waste any time getting through the door and spotting his bride-to-be. she was sobbing, shaking and having a hard time breathing steadily. as soon as he spotted her, he ran over to where she was seated and held her.

“hey darling. it’s okay. i’m here now.” he said in a relaxed voice. “try to match my breathing, can you do that for me, hon?”

y/n nodded her head and started to breath more steadily.

“that’s right. in, out, in, out. just like that.” he told the woman that was now breathing normally. “now, mind telling me what has got you all riled up before the big day?” he asked, poking her stomach, making her laugh.

“i feel really bad that i didn’t invite my family. even though they weren’t there for me back then, doesn’t mean that they wouldn’t want to be here now.” she said in between a sob.

“you can let it go, you can throw a party full of everyone you know and not invite your family ‘cause they never showed you love. you don’t have to be sorry for leaving and growing up.” bradley told y/n.

“i know. i know. i just feel like a real dick because i didn’t invite them.” y/n said with a frown.

“darling, you talk of the pain like it’s all alright, but i know that you feel like a piece of you is dead inside. you showed me a power that is strong enough to bring sun to the darkest days. it’s none of my business but it’s just been on my mind.” he said. she was now looking up at him and he wiped the tears away from her puffy cheeks.

“you can let it go, you can throw a party full of everyone you know and not invite your family ‘cause they never showed your love. you don’t have to be sorry for leaving and growing up. you can see the world, following the seasons anywhere you go, you don’t need a reason ‘cause they never showed you love and you don’t have to be sorry for doing on your own.” bradley told her.

“you know that i love you and we are getting married! you are the best part of all my days. and please, don’t forget that. i love you so much!” bradley told her then kissed her on the lips.

“thank you bradley. you always know how to make me feel better and i’m so blessed to have you here with me. i love you too.” y/n said to her fiancé, best friend, and groom-to-be.

#bradley bradshaw x female reader #nick goose bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x mitchell!reader #bradley bradshaw smut #bradley bradshaw x oc #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster x you #rooster x reader #rooster x wife!reader

173 notes · View notes

happy74827 · 4 months

Note

I came to make present you a proposition: Gideon and Reader but they’re enemies to lovers, you know sexual tension, can’t be away from each other but are always butting heads, ironic but maybe not that ironic flirting completely over the top but neither want to swallow their pride and admit they wanna fuck

Yeah I think that’d be neat

Burning Rage

[Gideon Graves x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: You swear you hate each other, but you can't help but find yourselves drawn to one another, despite all the arguing.

WC: 2701

Category: Enemies/Lovers, First Kiss

I'm so sorry this took so long. Life has been HECTIC, but I'm finally getting these fics done. Anyways, you’re absolutely right. This is neat and hopefully you like what I wrote (despite the fact that I am not proofreading it cuz I’m lazy 😁)

『••✎••』

You and Gideon… well, let’s just say your first meeting isn't a pleasant one.

He was a pretentious, egotistical prick with the personality of a bag of wet shit, and you absolutely despised him.

Not only was he an asshole, but he was an asshole who had the most infuriating ability to get under your skin and push all your buttons, no matter what you did to prevent it.

The man was like a disease; you tried to keep away from him as much as possible, but if you weren’t careful, you ended up coming into contact with him, and no matter how much you washed, you couldn’t quite seem to get him off your skin.

The worst thing about it all was that everyone was in love with him. He could do no wrong, and no matter what he said or did, the people around him hung off his every word and were practically tripping over themselves to do what he said.

He was so smug about it, too, the absolute bastard. He knew he had everyone in his clutches, and he reveled in it, basking in the attention and praise he got.

The man thought he was god's gift to humanity, and he made sure everyone else knew it.

It was sickening.

You were the only person he couldn’t quite break down and mold into his perfect little doll. No matter how hard he tried, no matter what he said, you never gave him the satisfaction of seeing your cave, even just a little.

No, you were stubborn and headstrong, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get his claws into you.

He'd be lying if he said that didn’t intrigue him.

You were the first person who had ever given him the cold shoulder, and it was frustrating him beyond belief. He'd always been able to make people bend to his will, whether it was through his natural charisma or by using the information he'd gathered on them to make their lives miserable if they didn't.

But you... You were a challenge, and he hated and loved it all at once.

It was so different. He had no control over what happened between the two of you, and while the concept was strange and unknown, he found himself becoming obsessed with trying to break you down and get a reaction out of you.

And so, it began.

The flirting started out as a joke. He didn’t mean anything by it at first. He just wanted to get a reaction out of you, see those pretty cheeks flush a deep shade of red, and hear you stutter and struggle to come up with a retort.

You were good, though; you always had a quick-witted reply ready to fire back at him, and he had to admit, it was fun.

It was a nice little game for the both of you, even if it was just to let out your frustrations with each other and try and gain some sort of upper hand over the other.

But then... The lines became blurred, and things got messy.

When you were alone, your words held more weight. Your insults weren't so lighthearted, and the way you said his name had his heart racing. He wondered if you realized how your voice dropped and sounded more breathless when you addressed him.

It was like you were whispering a dirty secret to him, and something about that excited him in ways that made him feel guilty and ashamed.

Your fights turned from petty squabbles to something that was almost... sensual in nature.

The way you stood so close, faces inches apart, the tension between the two of you almost palpable, and the way you looked at him... You were looking at him like you wanted to devour him, and that alone was enough to make him weak in the knees.

Your conversations were filled with hidden meanings and implications, and there was so much sexual tension he could have cut through it with a knife.

He was addicted, and he was certain that you felt the same way, from the way your eyes roamed his body, lingering on his lips, and the way your hands would ghost over his arms and chest whenever he was close.

He wanted you, and he was pretty sure you wanted him, too.

The only problem was neither of you was willing to admit it or give in, and so, the dance continued.

“I swear to god, Graves, if you don't quit following me around like a lost puppy, I'll break your fucking legs," You growled, glaring at the man trailing behind you, an unreadable expression on his face.

"Why, darling, you know you don't mean that. After all, I'm sure you'd miss my presence and my company, wouldn't you?" He hummed, and you fought the urge to roll your eyes and scream at him.

"I think I'd be able to find a way to survive without your charming presence," You snarked, turning on your heel and facing him, "Now, go and bother someone else because I have places to be."

You brushed past him, not sparing him another glance, and he chuckled before reaching out and grabbing your arm.

"Don't be like that. I just want to talk. Is that so wrong?" He murmured, his tone low and his gaze dark.

“Yes. Yes, it is. Let go of me, or I'll rip your fucking hand off," You tugged on your arm, trying to pull yourself free from his grasp, but his grip was tight and unyielding.

"You know I'm stronger than you, sweetheart.” He whispered gently, “Don't waste your energy.”

“You—” A sharp yank cut you off, and before you knew what was happening, Gideon was dragging you away from the busy street and into a dark alley.

He didn’t let go of you, not until the two of you were out of sight and away from prying eyes.

He stood with his back to the street, keeping his eyes trained on you, and you mirrored his actions, glaring daggers at him.

There was an uneasy silence, and neither of you dared to speak, too afraid that the wrong words would be the trigger to set the other off.

Finally, Gideon sighed and broke the silence, his tone tired and exasperated, "You never make things easy, do you? Why can't you just let things be easy?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did I hurt your feelings, Sweetheart?" You sneered, and he shook his head, "Maybe if you weren't such an arrogant, narcissistic bastard, I wouldn't have a problem with you."

"Maybe if you'd just let me talk to you without throwing a hissy fit, I wouldn't have to resort to drastic measures," He shot back, and you glared at him.

"Why should I? Everything out of your mouth is utter bullshit." You stepped towards him, and the two of you were chest to chest, his head tilted down, and your eyes locked on his.

"You're so annoying," He grumbled, and you grinned, "Why can't you be like the rest of the women around here? They’re the ones with some common sense."

"Common sense? If they were smart, they'd stay the hell away from you."

"I don't know whether to take that as an insult or a compliment," He mused. He had a smug look on his face, and you were overcome with the urge to punch him.

"Shut up. I don't want to hear another word from you."

"That's a lie. You love hearing my voice; it's like a beautiful melody. It's what keeps you going, day after day," He drawled, and you could feel his warm breath tickling your face and making the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. “A soft lullaby, a beautiful serenade, that has the power to captivate any audience. I bet my voice plays in your dreams every night, keeping you awake and leaving you wanting more."

"Shut. Up." You repeated, but this time, your words were much less convincing, and he chuckled, his eyes lighting up.

"You can deny it all you want, but we both know the truth. I could tell you what I know about you and what goes on inside that pretty little head of yours, but that would spoil the surprise and ruin the mystery," He leaned closer, his lips hovering above your ear, "And we can't have that, can we?"

"You're delusional, just like the idea that G-Man Media is the best there is. You're the one who has the delusion and fantasy of thinking the world succumbs to you. You are nothing, Graves; you are a pathetic, spineless, weak-minded man-child who can't even face reality.”

“Listen here, Buddy—”

“Oh, struck a nerve, did I? Do I need to remind you that no one, and I mean no one, wants to work with you? They do it because you have money, and if they want their business to succeed, they have to kiss your ass. But once that money runs out, and it will, you will be a nobody again, just like you were when you were a sad, lonely little boy, sitting in your room, crying and whining, and wondering why no one would play with you."

Gideon’s smooth expression fell, and for a moment, he was stunned into silence, his mouth open and his eyes wide.

"How... How dare you!" He snarled, his voice rising.

"How dare I? You're the one who dragged me down here and forced me to talk to you when I told you multiple times I didn't want to. If you didn’t want the truth, then you should have stayed away." You spat, and he scowled, his face twisted with rage.

"You—"

"I know. I'm an awful, terrible person, but at least I can admit it. Can you?"

He froze, his mouth open, but the words stuck in his throat, and he looked away, avoiding your gaze.

"That's what I thought," You smirked, "Don't worry, Graves, I won't hold it against you.”

You took this as your time to leave. He didn’t have a comeback, and he didn't seem interested in talking anymore. So, with his head turned away and his back to you, you started to walk away.

You were barely five steps away when you felt a hand on your wrist, and your heart jumped into your throat, your fight or flight instinct kicking in.

In one fluid motion, you swung your arm around to strike him, but he caught it with ease and grabbed the other one, his grip on your wrists strong and unyielding, no matter how hard you struggled.

No words were spoken, just a few pained grunts and strained gasps and the sound of shuffling and scuffing feet as you tried to pull away and escape his hold.

But you failed and gave up when you noticed that he wasn’t glaring at you anymore. Instead, he looked conflicted and lost, his eyes filled with a myriad of emotions and a troubled frown on his lips.

The two of you remained in that position, standing mere inches apart; the only sound filling the air was the sound of your heavy breathing and the occasional whimper or grunt that escaped one of you.

"Let me go, Graves." You whispered, and his grip tightened on your wrists, and his eyes met yours again, the look in them almost pleading.

"Let me go," You repeated, but your words were softer this time, and your tone was less forceful and more imploring.

He didn’t speak or make a sound, but his grip loosened. If you tugged just a little, you would be able to slip free. He would let you leave.

And yet, you didn’t.

Your body was telling you to leave, to put as much distance between the two of you as possible, but your mind and your heart were saying something else entirely.

His touch burned your skin, and it left a pleasant, tingling feeling wherever he touched.

You felt his breath on your face, and it made you shiver and your stomach churn as your brain tried to decipher what was happening and what it meant.

“Gideon…” You mumbled, and his eyes widened a tad, but he still didn’t say anything.

It was the first time you’d called him by his first name, and you didn't know why, but the atmosphere had changed. It was less hostile and more intimate, in a way.

"You're so infuriating," You whispered, "You're a smug, arrogant, conceited asshole, and I can't stand being around you."

"You're not exactly a joy to be around, either." He said, his tone lacking the usual venom and arrogance. His voice was soft, like that lullaby he'd mentioned earlier.

"But you're so..." You trailed off, unable to find the right word.

"I'm so what?" He prompted, but his question was more like a plea, and his eyes were hopeful and shining, a hint of something you couldn't quite identify hidden within their depths.

"You're just... So..." You bit your lip and looked away, unable to meet his intense, piercing gaze, "You're so..."

"So...?" He pressed, leaning in closer.

He was close, so close, the tips of your noses were almost touching, and the distance between your bodies was nearly non-existent.

He was waiting for your answer, his eyes searching yours, and his body frozen in place. He wasn't moving, not an inch, and neither were you.

You were at a crossroads, and no matter which direction you went in, there was a chance it would come back to bite you in the ass later on.

So, you made a decision.

You surged forward and crashed your lips against his, kissing him hard.

He was stunned for a moment, his hands releasing your wrists and his eyes wide, but after a moment, he seemed to relax and kissed you back, his hands gripping your waist and pulling you closer.

It was rough and messy, teeth and tongues clashing together, and lips and cheeks being bruised and bitten, as the two of you finally let loose and indulged in each other.

You didn't think and didn't stop to consider the implications of what was happening or how things would change afterward.

The only thing on your mind was Gideon, and the way his hands were roaming your body, and the way he tasted, and the way he made your skin tingle and your insides burn with desire.

You could only focus on the present and what was happening between the two of you as his tongue danced with yours and his teeth nibbled on your lower lip, sending a pleasant shudder through your body.

He broke the kiss and buried his face in the crook of your neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses to your neck, and his hot breath against your skin was making you dizzy and lightheaded.

"Gideon," You whimpered, tangling your fingers in his hair and tugging gently, on the dark locks as his lips sucked and nipped at your skin, and left a trail of dark red marks in their wake.

His glasses were pressing into your cheek, and he pulled away, his breath heavy and his hair a mess.

"Hold still," He said, and before you could respond, he reached up and pulled the offending articles off his face.

His eyes were a stunning shade of hazel, and they were filled with lust and desire, his pupils blown wide and a deep, dark look in them.

You were mesmerized, and he smiled softly as he brushed a stray strand of hair from your face and tucked it behind your ear.

"What did I say? I knew my voice would play a part in your dreams, one way or another," He hummed, a smug look on his face.

"I will break your nose and put you on your knees.” You spoke with your usual amount of venom.

To most, it would sound like a threat, but Gideon was able to read between the lines, and with that familiar smirk on his lips, he pulled you closer, his hands cupping your cheeks and his face inches from yours.

"Is that a promise?"

285 notes · View notes