#goose x you

[tip-top-cloud-surfer]

A Little Gosling - Goose

Pairing: Nick "Goose" Bradshaw / Mitchell! Fem! OC | Reader

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: (Unplanned) Pregnancy - Don't Like, Don't Read; Secret Relationship; Suggestive Content; Mentions of Sex; Light Angst; Second Person ("You") POV, but No Y/N

[Reader is Maverick's younger sister and a teacher. Everything else is left open-ended.]

If you are a MINOR, do me a favor and READ SOMETHING ELSE.

This work, all of my other works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only.

Summary: Some frantic goodbye sex with your secret boyfriend Goose yields a little surprise. Four months later, Goose comes back stateside to attend Top Gun. Now, all you need to worry about is telling him before your brother Maverick finds out.

A.N. We're going to pretend that Carole and Goose never met and Carole is off living her best life elsewhere here.

Edit: Part 2 is now out!

Master List

You adjusted your dress carefully, checking your appearance in the mirror. The cups of your dress were tighter than normal, but the rest of the dress was flowy and hid your figure well enough. Someone would have to really be scrutinizing your abdomen to find a sign of your little bump among the patterned fabric.

Getting into a secret relationship with your brother’s best friend was definitely not the best idea that you ever had in your life. And neither was getting accidentally pregnant with his baby before you even told your brother Maverick that you were together in the first place.

But in your defense, if Maverick wanted keep you two apart, he should have stopped leaving you two alone together while he chased after whoever caught his eye. Goose and you spent a lot of time together over the years because of Maverick’s horndog tendencies and you weren’t going to apologize for that.

And, well, Goose was a good man. He was sweet to you. He bought you flowers for your birthday even before you ever dated. He always supported you and never spoke over you or made you feel like you weren’t important. He sent you love letters that made you swoon even though he knew that you couldn’t do the same for him for fear of Maverick finding them.

You loved him. And he loved you. And that was all that mattered.

You took a deep breath and tried to calm yourself down. It wouldn’t do you or anyone else any good if you showed up stressed. Maverick would get suspicious and hover around you and then you wouldn’t be able to tell Goose the news. And you needed to tell him. Soon. Before your bump was actually noticeable and everyone found out.

You just hit seventeen weeks and your bump was growing every day. You managed to hide it from everyone for now, but soon, it wasn’t going to be possible. So, you really needed to tell Goose. Tonight. Immediately. You were lucky enough that he got called home when he did, instead of in another seven months like originally planned.

So, you had to tell Goose about the little gosling. Tonight.

“What do you think, huh?” you asked, running a hand down your bump. “I’m just freaking out over nothing, aren’t I?” You rubbed your hand up and down your bump and sighed, placing your hands on your hips. “You know, one of these days, you’re going to have to kick for me.”

But not today, apparently.

Smiling softly, you grabbed your purse and keys and headed out to Goose’s car—his blue 1972 Ford Bronco. Goose called the car ‘his baby’ and left you specific instructions on how to take care of it while he was away. Ironically, Goose’s actual baby was more than likely conceived in the backseat.

Frantic goodbye sex minus a condom because Goose never restocked his stash plus your now very ironic ‘just pull out, we’ll be fine’ comment equaled one little gosling.

And you hadn’t told Goose. You were worried about his reaction—mostly about the high possibility that he would open the letter in front of Maverick, your brother, pass out from the new information, Maverick would read the letter, and it would all blow up from there. And, well, if Maverick was going to freak out, then Goose didn’t deserve to go through that alone.

Not if you could help it, anyway.

Pulling up to base, you showed the guard your ID and signed in before you were directed to the proper parking lot. Adjusting the straps of your dress, you made your way over to the airstrip. On your way over, however, you were surprised to see Cougar’s wife Eileen and her son.

“Eileen?” you called, causing her to turn around. “Cougar’s coming home too?”

“Yes, he is,” Eileen replied, adjusting her hold on her son. “I just got the message last night. Maverick and Goose are coming home as well?”

“Yeah, I got a message last night too,” you explained, trying to not stare at the baby boy.

You were the second-grade teacher at the on-base elementary school, so you had spent quite a lot of time around children. But there was just something about finding out that you were expecting one of your own that made your eyes latch onto any baby within a ten-meter radius of you.

“Where’s Kathy then?” you added, referring to Merlin’s wife.

“I called her last night and she said that she never got any message. Merlin isn’t coming home.”

“That’s strange,” you trailed off, trying to not assume the worst. You quickly forced your usual teacher smile when dealing with a concerned parent and gestured to Eileen’s son. “But at least Cougar finally gets to meet this little cutie.”

 “I know,” Eileen sighed, hugging her son closer. “He was so upset that he missed his birth.”

“That’s the Navy, unfortunately,” you mumbled, grimacing to yourself.

The thought of giving birth alone crossed your mind more than you would have liked to admit already. Goose and Maverick could be redeployed at the drop of a hat and sent to the complete opposite side of the world, leaving you all by yourself. You tried to not dwell on that fact, though. There were a lot of other steps that had to be taken first before you even got there.

“Come on, I’m sure that they’re just about to land,” you urged, redirecting the conversation.

You made your way over to the airstrip to see the three aviators already walking over. Cougar started sprinting as soon as he spotted his wife and son. You smiled and squeezed Eileen’s shoulder reassuringly before breaking away to greet your own boys. Maverick reached your first, but Goose was impatiently right on his tail.

“Ah, there you are,” Maverick jokingly called to you. “You weren’t going to make us walk home?”

“Not this time,” you mused, letting your brother pull you into a hug. “I missed you, Pete.”

“Missed you too, Sis.”

You released your brother, who instead stared over at the exchange between Cougar and Eileen. You quickly turned to Goose and fought the significant urge to leap into his arms and kiss him breathless. Instead, you stepped over and got up on your tiptoes to give him a proper hug.

“Hey, Goosie,” you stated, burying your face in his chest.

“Hey, honey,” he returned, resting his head on top your own.

Goose quickly wrapped his arms around your and pressed a discreet kiss to the top of your head. One that you knew meant that he was excited to see you and that he was barely holding onto his sanity at the fact that he couldn’t kiss your like he wanted to right then and there.

But you both knew that you just had to wait a little longer before you could reunite properly.

“What happened with Cougar?” you asked, reluctantly breaking away from Goose.

���He turned in his wings,” Goose replied bluntly, causing your eyes to widen.

“He did what?”

“He got all freaked out on one of our patrols,” Maverick supplied, turning to you. “He thought that he was going to die and never meet his son.”

“Poor man,” you sighed, shaking your head. You turned back to Maverick and Goose and straightened up, studying their gazes. “But why are the two of you home then?”

“We’re going to TOP GUN,” Maverick stated proudly, high-fiving Goose before turning back to you. “And you should come with us.”

“Really? You want me to come with you guys?” you asked, trying to not reach out to Goose.

“Yeah, unless you’re doing summer school,” Maverick replied, shrugging his shoulders.

“No, I’m not,” you replied, shaking your head a bit. Sharing an intensely longing look with Goose, you eventually turned back to Maverick. “I mean, if you don’t mind me coming along, I could.”

“I think that you should,” Goose all but blurted out immediately. “Come along, I mean.”

“Well, then I guess I should get packing,” you agreed, unable to help your wide smile.

As Maverick turned to start walking over to greet Cougar and his wife, Goose reached for your hand and gave it a quick squeeze. You grabbed his hand in return, wanting to openly show the world that you loved Goose and that he loved you.

“Tonight,” Goose whispered in your ear, causing you to sneak a quick peck to his cheek.

“Tonight,” you agreed quietly.

And, like clockwork, Maverick’s horndog tendencies gave the two of you some space to talk.

Goose threw open the door to your bedroom and kicked it closed with his heel. Carrying you over to your bed, Goose gently laid you down before crawling on top. You cupped Goose’s cheeks with your hands and wrapped your legs around his waist. You rolled your hips up to grind against his own, which caused Goose to tighten his hold on you.

“Did you miss me, Goosie?” you asked, running your hands down his back.

“Every day, honey. Every. Goddamn. Day,” Goose groaned, rolling his hips in time with your own.

He sat up and quickly removed his Hawaiian shirt. You helped him pull off his white undershirt before pulling him back down to your lips once more. Goose rolled you two over and reached for your zipper without ever taking his lips off of your own.

But when you felt your dress start to loosen, you pulled back. Goose dropped his hands immediately and stared up at you with concern.

“What is it, honey? What’s wrong?” Goose asked softly.

You pressed your lips together and rested your hand against Goose’s chest, feeling his heartbeat underneath your fingers.

“Before we go any further, there’s something that I need to tell you.”

You climbed off of Goose and sat up on your bed. Goose straightened up and turned to you with a worried expression. He reached for your hand and brought it up to his lips, earning a small smile in return from you.

“What is it? You can tell me, honey.”

“Do you remember the night before you shipped out?” you started off with, staring down at your lap.

“Very well,” Goose assured you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Why?”

“Well . . .”

You trailed off, trying to figure out how to deliver the news. You released Goose’s hand and slowly stood up. Reaching back, you finished pulling down the zipper of your dress. Turning back to Goose, you put up a brave face and pulled the straps of your dress down. You let the fabric pool around your feet and stepped out of it.

Goose stared up at you, clearly confused, before he spotted the now visible bump. You slowly cupped your small bump, which became infinitely more noticeable when you curved your back a bit and turned to the side. Goose’s breath left his body. His eyes looked like they were about to pop out of his skull and his lips parted in shock.

“Well, um, I got a souvenir from that night,” you quipped nervously, waiting for Goose’s reaction.

He blinked rapidly, glancing between your face and your small bump. You pursed your lips together anxiously, trying to remain calm. You reminded yourself that you just dropped a bomb on Goose. This was definitely a surprise for him, so you just needed to be patient.

“You’re pregnant?” Goose breathed out, staring up at you with wide eyes.

“Yeah, Goosie.”

Goose nodded slowly, still processing the information before he slowly got up from his spot. You watched him closely, worried that he was going to get up and leave. But then he carefully pulled you to his chest and gently tilted your chin up so that he could rest his forehead against your own.

“You’re pregnant?” he repeated, his tone softer than before.

“I’m pregnant,” you confirmed, causing Goose to nod.

“And you’re okay with that?” he asked you softly, searching your eyes for concern.

“Yeah, I’m okay, Goosie.”

“And everything’s healthy? With both of you?”

“Clean bills of health.”

“I’m going to be a dad?” he asked, his voice picking up a lighter tone.

“Yes, Goosie,” you mused, rubbing your noses together. “You’re going to be a dad.”

“Holy shit,” Goose breathed out, causing you to chuckle. “I’m going to be a dad.”

He quickly pressed a set of kisses all over your face, which made you giggle due to the tickle of his mustache. You tried to return the kisses, but he was too fast for you. Pulling you into a deep kiss that stole your breath away, Goose slowly rested his hand on the swell of your bump. He spread his fingers, feeling the curve on his own properly for the first time.

“Holy shit, I’m going to be a dad!” Goose exclaimed, causing you to frantically shush him.

“Goose, the neighbors!”

“I’m going to be a dad!” Goose yelled out instead.

“Nick,” you laughed, trying to get him to quiet down. “You’ll alert the whole town yelling like that. Including Mav.”

“Right, sorry,” Goose whispered back. “Holy shit, I’m going to be a dad.”

Goose pulled you in for another soft kiss before dropping down to his knees to kiss your small bump. Nuzzling against your skin, Goose pressed a series of kisses that brought happy tears to your eyes. You ran a hand through his hair as Goose whispered to your little gosling.

“Hey, I’m your dad,” Goose informed your bump, causing you to smile. “I’m sorry that I was away for a bit, but I’m here now and I can’t wait to meet you in . . .”

“About five months,” you supplied for Goose.

“About five months,” he echoed back to your bump.

Goose pressed another kiss to your bump before standing up and gathering you in his arms again. But just as you started to return his loving kiss, Goose pulled back with a sudden realization.

“Wait right here.”

“What? Goose, what are you—”

You didn’t even get to finish your question before Goose bolted out of the room. Sighing to yourself, you shook your head. Running a hand down your bump, you managed a small smile when you heard Goose cursing at himself as he rummaged through his drawers.

“Your dad’s a bit of a nutcase,” you informed your baby, shaking your head. “But we like our nutcase.”

Goose nearly tripped as he ran back into your bedroom. You were about to ask him what the fuss was all about when he dramatically dropped onto one knee and held up a small box. And this time, it was your turn to comedically widen your eyes and drop your mouth open.

“Nick . . . are you serious?” you asked him softly, holding a hand to your chest. 

“Of course, I’m serious,” Goose replied, popping open the case.

“How long have you had the ring?”

“About a year.”

“Nick, we’ve only been dating for a year,” you pointed out, like he was the crazy one.

“I know, honey,” Goose replied, causing your eyes to widen again.

“Holy shit.”

Goose laughed and held up the ring for you to see it. The ring was simple with a gold band and a circular diamond in the center. It wasn’t that large and Goose knew that some of the men who routinely flirted with you on base could probably afford a bigger and grander ring. But you didn’t seem to mind when you held your hands to your mouth, happy tears in your eyes.

“Will you marry me and make me the happiest guy in the whole world?” Goose asked, smiling softly.

“Of course, I’ll marry you, Goose,” you gushed, urging him to his feet.

You pulled him in for an emotional kiss and Goose managed to somehow slide the ring onto your finger despite the distraction. After you broke away from the kiss, you rested your head against his chest and admired your new ring.

“It’s perfect, Goosie.”

“You’re perfect, honey,” Goose returned, causing you to shoot him a playful glare.

“You’re a sap, Nick Bradshaw.”

“But I’m your sap, honey.”

“And don’t you forget it,” you warned him jokingly.

You pulled him down for another kiss, running your hands through his short hair. Goose trailed his hands up and down your sides, mapping out every inch of your subtle curve where your baby was growing. Your baby. A little human that you made together.

Holy shit you were going to be parents.

You shared soft kiss and caresses for a few moments, communicating all of the love that you shared for each other. But then you both remembered that you hadn’t seen each other in months and hell, you were both running high on adrenaline. Pulling away from the kiss, you rested your hands on Goose’s chest and tilted your chin up.

“Make love to me, Goosie,” you whispered against his lips.

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied, grinning as he pressed another kiss to your lips.  

Goose gently lowering you back onto your bed. He stood up, shoved his pants down, and hurried back to you. Carefully hovering over you, mindful of your little bump, Goose trailed kissed down your face and down to your chest. Nuzzling the sensitive valley between your breasts and pressing a kiss to the top of both of them, Goose paused for a moment.

“I’ll be back for you two soon,” he stated, referring to your breasts.

“Goosie, stop personifying my breasts!”

“I don’t think they mind it, honey!”

Despite your playful scoff, Goose went back to task and trailed kisses down your stomach. Kissing over your small baby bump, Goose paused again and sat up a bit.

“Gosling, I’m going to need you to close your eyes and plug your ears for a bit. It’s nothing personal, but I just think that you’re a little young to—”

“—Goose!”

“What?” he laughed, causing you to shake your head at him and buck your hips. “Don’t worry, honey, I’m getting there. Be patient with me.” He grabbed the waistband of your underwear and shot you the smile that got you into this whole mess in the first place. “Now, you just sit back, relax, and enjoy the moment, sweetheart.”

After becoming very well acquainted with each other again, you snuggled up together on your bed.

“When did you want to get married?” Goose asked you softly, wrapping an arm around your bump.

“Well, we should tell Pete about what’s going on before we sign the papers,” you mumbled, rubbing a pattern into Goose’s chest. You sighed, snuggling further into Goose’s side. “I just hope that he doesn’t freak out about it.”

“You’ll be fine,” Goose replied, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Me, on the other hand, he might strangle with his bare hands.”

“No, he won’t,” you told Goose. “He loves you like a brother. He’d never hurt you like that.”

“But he’s your actual brother,” Goose pointed out. “And he’s hated all of your boyfriends.”

“None of them hold a candle to you, Goosie,” you told him honestly.

“I know that you’re just telling me that to make me feel better, but it’s actually working,” Goose stated, causing you to laugh softly.

“I’m serious,” you assured him, pressing a kiss to his chest. “I love you, Goosie. Like I’ve never loved another man before. He’ll see that.”

“I love you too,” Goose returned softly, rubbing his fingers over your bump. “You and our little gosling . . . there’s nothing else that I care more about in the whole world.”

You hummed contentedly and snuggled further into Goose’s touch. Goose leaned down and pulled the thin blanket over your bodies as you slowly started to drift off to sleep. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, your nose, and then finally your lips.

“Goodnight, honey.”

“Goodnight, Goosie.”

Your breathing evened out and you quickly fell asleep against Goose’s chest like you always did after your reunions. Goose kept a careful hold on you, making sure that you stayed warm and secure. Rubbing your back and your bump, Goose couldn’t help but let his mind wander as the afterglow of your reunion faded and reality started to set back in.

You were pregnant with his baby. And that changed everything.

Hell, you needed to get married. Quickly. And before you got married, you really should tell Maverick about the whole situation. And then deal with the fallout of that because even if Goose and Maverick were like brothers, Maverick was still an overprotective older brother when it came to you.

And Goose wasn’t just dating you. He knocked you up. And he was marrying you.

Maverick was going to put his head on a pike when he found out.

And, then, of course, there was the whole issue of money and a house and everything else that went into having a baby. The benefits would be good and he wouldn’t have to worry about healthcare for you, but hell, he needed to buy a house. Not just a cheap rundown one, like the one that you all shared now. But a real one.

With a fenced in backyard so that the gosling could run around. And with an actual driveway so that the gosling could learn how to ride his or her bike without worrying about someone hitting them with a car. And without a rickety staircase out front that would definitely give them a splinter. One that didn’t have too many projects in case he got sent out soon after the baby was born.

Hell, would he even get to be there when the baby was born? Cougar didn’t.

Goose paused in his worrying when he felt pressure against his hand. Confused, he looked over at you to see you still asleep. Pulling back the covers a bit, Goose sucked in a breath when he realized that the pressure against his hand was coming from your bump. From your little gosling.

The baby was kicking. Your baby was kicking.

Goose pressed against the kick gently, just to tell the gosling that he was there and grinned when the pressure returned. Resting his head on top of your own, Goose pressed a kiss to your forehead as he cupped your small bump again.

He knew that he had to figure things out. He had a lot of things to figure out. But for right now, he just wanted to hold you and your baby.

And so, he did.

Part 2

[topguncortez]

Hands to Yourself

Spring Break Kickback | Masterlist

synopsis: Goose's love language is physical touch, and sometimes he can get a bit handsy

prompt: “we’re in public you know”

warnings: public display of affection, fingering, public sex (kinda), allusion to smut.

word count: 1.3k

It was no surprise that Goose’s love language was physical touch. He was a very hands-on type of person. He liked building things, working on puzzles, drawing, holding your hand whenever you’re out at the O Club. He was always having to touch you, a hand on your thigh, or an arm around your shoulders, or even having you sit on his lap. His touchiness seemed to get more extensive when he came home from a long deployment or when he was horny. Like tonight. 

Maverick had somehow convinced you to come join Goose, Ice and Slider at the O Club for a drink. You were happy to join in on the festivities, throwing on a red checked sundress and sandals, easily spotting your mustached pilot when you walked into the bar. 

“Great Balls of Fire, look at my girl,” Goose whistled as you walked up to him. You blushed as he took your hand and twirled you around in a circle before bringing you into his arms. He pressed a kiss to your cheek, as his hand slid down your back, resting on the curve above your ass, “How was your day?” 

“Good. Spent the day finishing up that quilt for Bradley,” You pecked his lips, “How was your day?” 

“Good, better now that you’re here,” Goose gives you that thousand watt smile and pulls you in for a slow, sensual kiss. You feel your cheeks heating up as his hand slips down to your ass, and gives it a squeeze. You jump back from him and he’s got a shit eating grin on his face. 

“Hands to yourself, Mister,” You point at him and he holds his hands up in defense. Even though you both know. . . he won’t keep his hands to himself. 

And you were right. Goose hardly kept his hands to himself, or let you out of his arms reach. He had settled your group into a booth near the back. He sat next to you in the booth, sitting on the outside so he could easily go and get you another drink if you wanted it. He had his arm around you, playing with the ends of your hair as you talked to Charlie about this blanket you were going to make for Viper’s new grandchild. That was one thing that Goose loved about you. Your love language was gift giving and you loved to make gifts for everyone. 

You were deep in your conversation when you started to feel the light brush of fingers up your thigh. You glanced over at Goose, who was looking down at you and gave you a small smile. You shook your head and went back to your conversation with Charlie. It was a couple seconds later that you felt Goose’s hand on your thigh. You sucked in a breath as you tried to listen to Charlie talking about some training plan that she was trying to execute at work. But the feeling of Goose’s fingers swiping against your inner thigh was pulling your attention into other places. Charlie excused herself from the table to go find Maverick, who was shamelessly flirting with another woman across the bar. When she left, you turned and swatted Goose’s chest. 

“Nicholas,” You scolded, “Hands. . .” You grabbed his hand, “To. . .” You picked it up from your thigh, “Yourself,” You placed his hand back in his lap, just by his crotch. Goose had that glint in his eye, that look that he got when he and Maverick were about to do something mischievous. He leaned down and pecked your nose, before placing his hand back on your thigh. 

“I don’t think,” He slid his hand up your thigh, “You want me to do that.” You let out a shaky breath as you tried not to let your eyes roll to the back of your head as his fingers trailed to the spot that you needed him the most. You were suddenly thankful that Goose decided to sit on the outside of the booth. Damn Goose, and the way he could make you melt with just one look. 

He leaned in, the scent of his cologne clouding your senses as he gently nuzzled against your cheek. You had learned to love the feeling of his mustache against your skin, and threatened to leave him if he even spoke of shaving it. The roughness of his palm sent a shiver down your body as he gripped your thigh, his fingers digging into the skin. 

“Goosey,” You sighed and leaned your head back against the cushion of the booth. 

“Be a good girl for me,” Goose said quietly, his voice getting that delicious rasp to it, “Let me touch you baby.” You bit back a moan as his finger ghosted over the damp spot that had been created in your panties. You nodded, letting Goose get what he wanted. He let out a sigh, and pressed his lips to your temple, “Thank you so much.” 

You audibly moaned at that. That was the thing about Goose, he was always so thankful that you let him touch you. He was always thanking you, before he slipped his fingers into your panties, or before his tongue lapped at your core, or before his penis penetrated your cunt. He would even thank you as he orgasmed, coating your walls with thick white ropes of cum. 

“Shh, gotta be quiet, honey,” Goose whispered, as he ran a finger through your soaked folds, “Jesus, you’re so wet, soaking my fingers. Bet, you’re always like this.” 

You nodded, “It’s the curse of living with you, Bradshaw.” 

“Oh you poor thing,” Goose chuckled, and you let out a sigh as he rubbed your aching clit, “Oh this what you needed, huh?” You nodded again, “I’ll always take care of you, honey, always.” 

“Goose,” You whined as he drew slow, steady circles on your clit. He moved his fingers lower, finding your soaked opening and easily sliding a finger into you. You bucked your hips up at the feeling and Goose looked around quickly to make sure no one saw anything. Everyone was too busy flirting, drinking or smoking to give a damn that he was knuckle deep in your pussy. You leaned your forehead against Goose’s shoulder to hopefully suppress the moans that were threatening to leave your lips. 

“Clenching around my fingers, honey,” Goose muttered, and curled his fingers to touch that spongy spot inside of you, “You close?” 

“Fucking hell, Goose!” You whined, lifting your head, “I. . .Fuck!” You grabbed his hand, and squeezed his wrist, the universal sign for him to stop, “I want you to make me cum, but. . .” You let out a breathy laugh, “We are in public, you know. And I can’t be quiet when I cum, you know that.” 

Goose smirked and pulled his hand from under your dress. He set his warm hand on your thigh and squeezed it, leaning in for a kiss. You kissed him back and gripped the collar of his khaki service uniform in your hands. He pulled back first for air and leaned his forehead against yours. 

“Oh boy do I know how loud you get,” He laughed, “Pretty sure you’ve woken up the whole dorm be-” You slapped his chest playfully and he pulled you to sit on his lap, still laughing. He grabbed your chin and turned your face to look at him. He peppered kisses all around your face; your forehead, nose, cheeks, chin, and then eventually your lips. 

“Take me home, sailor,” You said, putting your arms around his neck. He looked at you, that look of mischief back in his eye.

Somehow he had managed to get up from the booth, with you still in his arms. You let out a squeal and he kissed your lips before finding his way out of the O Club and towards his awaiting Bronco to take you home and love you properly.

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[ohthatstragic]

I Loved Them, Goose - p.m

a/n: this was painful to write, i hate writing sad mav, it's so disheartening :( luv him too much. also ik this gif is from TG:M, but it's fitting for this one shot... it's a little short, but, i hope this was what you wanted anon, if not i'm happy to rework it for you!! < 3

also pls don’t repost or translate any of my work.. i don’t give you permission to do that.

pairings: young!maverick x gn!reader

warnings: angst, reader death, funeral

wc: 1,365

the request: 'can you do like a really angsty young maverick x reader where it is the reader instead of goose dying please I love your work 💜'

i listened to another love but the slowed version whilst writing this rip, that shit HURT

Droplets of rain pattered on the asphalt, the clear beads exploding against the hard ground like a million ballerinas dancing upon it. It was the day of your funeral, and they had laid your coffin to rest around thirty minutes ago. Most of the attendees had dissipated from the cemetary, but not Maverick. He stood straight with his head facing downward; his smart, black military cap tucked underneath his arm. The rain drenched his dark-cocoa coloured hair, flattening it against his forehead. Small droplets of rain dripped down his skin, it was like the weather had given him a way to hide his forthcoming tears. "I'm sorry, Mav," A choked, quiet voice came from behind the young pilot, making his ears twitch at the familiar voice he loved so dearly. Goose's voice was somewhat comforting to him, but it wasn't yours.

You had been Maverick's RIO to replace Goose as he had a family emergency to attend to. The two of you had been training for Top Gun, being Iceman's wingman for the lesson. Ice's jet-wash had sent your plane into an uncontrollable and unrecoverable flat spin as he pulled out from the shot he was going to take. Maverick's mind was haunted by your shouts of distress, his knees suddenly feeling weak as he reeled his mind back to the moment he watched your lifeless, limp body float down to the sea. Goose had learnt of your death after he returned to Top Gun to find Maverick absolutely broken. It was like he was a totally different man entirely. His cocky persona had completely melted away and it revealed his fragile and delicate side.

Maverick was fighting back strangling sobs beneath his emotionless façade as he stared down at your new, forever home, and it disturbed Goose at how 'calm' the naval aviator seemed. "They'd want you to be happy." Goose spoke again, his mouth hanging open as he squinted against the pelting rain, the outward-poking rim of his military cap not doing much to protect his face from the wet weather. Maverick didn't dare turn around to face Goose and expose his ailing will to keep going. Instead, he swallowed slowly, giving a single nod of his head.

"I know." Maverick whispered, almost to himself at how quiet he spoke. He could feel the protective wall he had built for today beginning to crumble like a sandcastle as he thought back to your screams of terror as the two of you plummeted to the ground, torturing himself with the guilt that was laden within his rigid body. Goose watched Maverick's shoulders begin to shake uncontrollably, his once silent sobs becoming audible.

"Mav!" You screamed, your heart beat was going ridiculously fast now and you were sure if this crash didn't kill you, the oncoming heart-attack would.

"Y/C/S, Y/C/S, I'm losing control, I'm losing control! I-I can't control it!" Maverick shouted, his hands gripping the centre joystick like it was the last thing on Earth.

"Altitude eight thousand," You choked out, your head pressed up against the canopy from the insane gravitational push from your unintentional free-fall. "Seven thousand!" You gasped, your terrified eyes never leaving the spiralling needle. "Shit, six thousand, Mav!"

"I've fallen forwards, Y/C/S, I can't reach the ejection handle!" Maverick shouted hoarsely and swallowed, trying to gain control of his compressing lungs. "Y/C/S! You've gotta punch us out! I can't reach the ejection handle, eject!" Maverick hopelessly shouted again, making you push yourself against the side of the canopy in a weak attempt to grasp onto the yellow rings above your head. Your arms and back burned as you forced your body to do the unimaginable, fighting against gravity itself to save your lives. "Eject, eject, eject!" He yelled. You missed once, then twice, and then you caught it, sparks surrounding you as the canopy was launched off the top of the jet. Your seat ejected first, a puff of smoke emitting from below it. Suddenly, a loud crack, and it was black.

Maverick's seat was next, and his arms crossed against his chest as he was shot up into the air, parachute deploying as soon as his chair was released. His breaths were ragged and heavy as he desperately glanced around to find your figure, and to his dismay, he found it. He felt his body go numb as his eyes lingered on your limp body, your arms hanging down like you were a puppet on strings. "Y/N?!" He called out hoarsely, his heart beginning to race for all the wrong reasons. 

As the pair of your bodies hit the water, Maverick was on you like a rocket, his lips quivering as he screamed your name out, praying, begging for a reply. But he got nothing back. "Y/C/S!" Maverick screeched, his arms splashing against the water as he reached you, the self-deploying lifeboat raising your body up underneath the pile of soaking parachute. He clambered on top of the inflatable, his body aflame with unbearable pain and fatigue. Maverick's trembling fingers fisted the parachute, desperately digging through the nylon material to retrieve your body. He felt his chest explode as he saw patches of bright, red blood stain his fingers as he found your head, your helmet was broken in half; blood staining your once-white helmet. "No..." Maverick breathed out, his voice breaking as he realised what had happened. His reckless behaviour had killed you. A high-pitched ringing sounded through his ears. "Y/N!" He screamed once more, his jaw clenching in distress as he hopelessly stared down at you, blinking rapidly; tears dripping from his lashes. "Please, wake up, Y/N, please-" He cried out, his hands clutching your head against his chest, fingers brushing the bloodied and matted hair out of your lifeless eyes.

"Let them go!" A voice shouted out from beside Maverick and he whipped his head up to look at them, spotting 'US NAVY' scrawled across the side of the helicopter.

"It's my fault that they're dead, Goose." Maverick whispered.

The RIO felt his heart splinter as he witnessed Maverick's breakdown. "It wasn't your fault, Mav," Goose sucked in a shaky breath as he approached his best friend, his eyes beginning to flood with uncontrollable tears. Maverick lost it. He turned around, his head falling against Goose's sopping wet chest with a thud, his hoarse, desperate breaths and silent cries were the only thing - other than the torrential rain - that echoed through the grave yard. Maverick flailed his trembling arms around Goose, his wobbly hands fisting the back of his RIO's uniform. "I know," Goose bit down harshly on his bottom lip, moustache twitching as he hopelessly tried to stay strong for his best friend. Goose was hurting too, he was also your best friend and he'd made many memories with you over the past year, but he knew how Maverick felt about you. He loved you, deeply. Truly. More than a friend, and you'd never know that because he never told you. The pilot had buried his feelings for you deep down inside him and drowned his sorrows in floods of women and one night stands; the courage to tell you never arriving.

"I loved them, Goose," Maverick cried out with agony, making Goose squeeze his eyes shut as thunder rumbled above them, the rain beginning to pelt down twice as hard now. "I loved Y/N..." He whispered, his silent sobs scraping against his sore, throbbing throat. "And I never told.." Maverick trailed off, another series of miserable whimpers and strangled sobs leaving his juddering chest.

"I think they knew, Mav." Goose replied quietly, his red, teary eyes falling to your shining headstone. The bubbles of rain dripped down the white stone, making it look like it was weeping. The moustached-RIO read the headstone silently to himself, the words stabbing his chest like a knife.

IN MEMORY OF

Y/N L/N

LT

US NAVY

Y/B/D 1965 - JUNE 5 1986

Goose shook his head vigorously in a pathetic attempt to forget what he had just so clearly read, the reality of it all becoming too much for him. Amongst Maverick's wretched and broken-hearted cries, Goose gazed up to the sky, his eyes flinching at the drops of rain that fell into them. The clouds above were grey and depressing, almost fitting for such an event. Despite the morbid reason him and Maverick were standing where they were, you would have loved the weather. Rainstorms were your favourite. It was almost as if the Universe was waving you off, too.

i hope this was okay, i wanted to do it from a flashback perspective :,(

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tag list:

@hlstead

@shakespear-picaso-lovechild

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[mitchellpete]

MASTERLIST

pete “maverick” mitchell

ONE-SHOTS

be my angel • pete “maverick” mitchell x f!reader

Maverick is drunk and in love with you. You’re the only person Goose trusts to care for him. Mav just wants to finally be close to you.

there's gotta be a way • pete “maverick” mitchell x gn!kazansky!reader

Maverick is tired of Iceman’s assumptions. He assures you your brother is wrong about him.

pictures • pete “maverick” mitchell x gn!reader

You reflect on the way you and Maverick care for each other as he tends to your injury.

moonlight (18+) • pete “maverick” mitchell x f!reader

Maverick’s neediness and desperation wakes you up from a deep sleep.

by the water • pete “maverick” mitchell x gn!reader

In the middle of his nightmare, Maverick pulls you towards him in his sleep. You realize he’s clutching onto you the way he held Goose.

firsts • pete “maverick” mitchell x gn!reader

You’re bad at playing hard to get, and you don’t want to let the opportunity slip. Maverick gives you your first motorcycle ride.

HEADCANONS

mav's love languages • pete “maverick” mitchell x gn!reader

dating maverick • pete “maverick” mitchell x gn!reader

nsfw alphabet (18+) • pete “maverick” mitchell x f!reader

KINKTOBER

69 (18+) • pete “maverick” mitchell x f!reader

thigh riding (18+) • pete “maverick” mitchell x f!reader

cockwarming (18+) • pete “maverick” mitchell x f!reader

praise (18+) • pete “maverick” mitchell x f!reader

voyeurism (18+) • tom “iceman” kazansky x f!reader (x pete “maverick” mitchell)

virginity (18+) • pete “maverick” mitchell x f!reader

dirty talk (18+) • pete “maverick” mitchell x f!reader

begging (18+) • pete “maverick” mitchell x f!reader

mirror sex (18+) • pete “maverick” mitchell x f!reader

face sitting (18+) • pete “maverick” mitchell x f!reader

other characters under the cut!

ethan hunt

ONE-SHOTS

warmth • ethan hunt x gn!reader

Ethan has been gone more frequently. You try to cherish the sleepy morning with him.

HEADCANONS

nsfw alphabet (18+) • ethan hunt x f!reader

KINKTOBER

public (18+) • ethan hunt x f!reader

cunnilungus (18+) • ethan hunt x f!reader

edging (18+) • ethan hunt x f!reader

bath/shower (18+) • ethan hunt x f!reader

bondage (18+) • ethan hunt x f!reader

nick “goose” bradshaw

HEADCANONS

dating goose • nick “goose” bradshaw x gn!reader

tom “iceman” kazansky

KINKTOBER

overstimulation (18+) • tom “iceman” kazansky x f!reader

spanking (18+) • tom “iceman” kazansky x f!reader

size kink (18+) • tom “iceman” kazansky x f!reader

voyeurism (18+) • tom “iceman” kazansky x f!reader (x pete “maverick” mitchell)

hate sex (18+) • tom “iceman” kazansky x f!reader

deepthroating (18+) • tom “iceman” kazansky x f!reader

creampie (18+) • tom “iceman” kazansky x f!reader

misc. tom cruise characters

KINKTOBER

blindfold (18+) • vincent (collateral) x f!reader

handjob (18+) • cole trickle x gn!reader

orgasm denial (18+) • vincent (collateral) x f!reader

-

request guidelines | kinktober masterlist

[mads-weasley]

Lucky

Nick “Goose” Bradshaw x Wife!Reader

Masterlist

A/N: Hey! Sorry I've been gone for a while! I looooved this request I got so I'm proud to say that I have expanded my Top Gun fics to Goose as well as Rooster! Enjoy anon!

Request: howdy please may i request a goose x reader fanfic (BECAUSE THERE ARE ZILCH ANYWHERE AND IM STILL SAD) where the reader gets hurt and goose tries to comfort her? (maybe some kisses if you see fit - i trust you to do as you like :))

Summary: (Y/n) gets into a car accident while Nick is at work, which leads to a very scared and concerned Goose.

Warnings: mentions of injuries/death

(Y/n) awoke to the smell of bacon floating in the air. With a soft sigh, she smiled to herself, knowing that her husband was in the kitchen with her pink apron tied around his waist, probably humming “Great Balls of Fire” under his breath. 

She silently got out of bed and made her way down the hallway towards the kitchen, feet padding softly against the hardwood floors. Peering around the corner into the kitchen, her suspicions were confirmed. Nick was in front of the stove, cooking breakfast while wearing her pink apron, swaying back and forth as he hummed quietly. The only thing she got wrong was the song he was singing. It turned out to be “You’ve Lost That Loving Feeling,” one of his and Mav’s favorites.

(Y/n) decided to watch her husband in his own little world, asking herself what she did to deserve such a wonderful man. After a few seconds, she made her way over to him, wrapping her arms around his waist and placing her head on his shoulder, joining him in singing.

“You’ve lost that loving feeling,

Now it’s gone, gone, gone, 

Woah-oah”

He put the spatula down and turned to face her, gently cupping her cheeks with a grin. Goose leaned down and wrapped her in his arms. To (y/n), it felt like a warm blanket of safety and adoration was wrapped around her. 

“Good morning, Mrs. Bradshaw.” He whispered, kissing her forehead.

“Good morning, Goose,” (y/n) replied. “So, what do you have for me this morning?”

Letting go with one arm, he held her waist with the other as he gestured to their kitchen table. On it sat pancakes, eggs, bacon, and toast. 

He led her over to it, pulling out the chair for her to sit in. “Only the best for you, honey.”

Sitting down, she began to fill her plate with the delicious foods that Nick had made. Once her plate was full, she looked up to see him already staring at her. 

“What?” She asked, a small smile on her face.

Goose shook his head softly with a grin of his own. “I love you more than anything, sweetheart.”

Her smile grew at the comment as she felt her cheeks heat up. Even after three years of marriage, Nick still made her feel like a teenager in love. They stayed like that for a little while, just eating their breakfast in comfortable silence, until he glanced down at his watch, cursing under his breath. Quickly getting up, he grabbed his keys off the counter and ran over to (y/n), kissing her on the cheek before walking towards the door. 

“See you later, baby!” She called over her shoulder at him.

Goose shot her his signature smile as he put on his aviators. “Bye, honey. I love you.”

“I love you, too, stud! Be careful!”

With a nod, he closed the door and went to work. Stuffing the last pancake into her mouth, (y/n) got an idea: she was going to visit Nick on base during his lunch break. 

“Alright Mav, Let’s turn and burn, brother,” Goose announced through the comms.

“I feel the need,” Mav paused. “The need for speed!”

With that, the pair’s training mission started. They tried to take down a decoy mig-38 but had trouble getting a lock on the smaller aircraft. Try after try, the more agile plane locked onto them before they could lock on it. Goose’s frustrated voice came through the comms the third time they were toned.

“Come on, Mav! Do some pilot sh-”

He was interrupted by Viper. “Maverick, Goose, return to base immediately.”

Nick threw his head back against the seat. “Sir, we can do this. We just need one more try. Jus-”

“Bradshaw, it’s (y/n). She’s been in an accident.”

The breath was stolen from his lungs as the world around him stilled, and his stomach dropped.

He swallowed the lump that had appeared in his throat, speaking breathlessly. “Accident? What accident? Is she okay?”

He didn’t even realize Mav had turned around, speeding towards the base and towards (y/n) as he waited for a reply.

“Car accident. We don’t know anything more than she’s in the hospital.”

Nick couldn’t bring himself to speak, not trusting his voice, so Mav responded for him. “Roger that, Viper. We’re on our way back to base.”

“Hey, Goose,” he continued. “She’s gonna be okay. Hang in there, man.”

The whole flight back to base was a blur. The second they landed, Nick jumped out of the plane and started sprinting towards his locker, needing his keys. Right as he entered the hangar, Viper called out to him. Whipping around quickly, Goose barely registered the car keys being thrown at him. 

“It’s on the front row. Let us know when you hear something.” Viper said, nodding his head towards the parking lot. 

By the time Nick got to the car, Maverick was right behind him, insisting that he drove. Pete knew Goose long enough to know when he was out of it, and this was one of those times. 

As they sped towards the hospital, he said a small prayer, promising he would do anything just for her to be okay. Pete pulled up to the hospital entrance and, Nick got out, running to the desk, frantically asking for help.

“My wife was brought in. (Y/n) Bradshaw. She was in a-”

“Car accident, right?” A nurse asked, getting up.

Nodding, he swallowed the lump in his throat. 

She started walking down the hall. “She’s just up here.”

When they arrived at her room, he opened the door slowly, gasping slightly at the sight in front of him. Cuts and bruises littered (y/n)’s face, and her wrist was in a brace as she lay asleep on the bed. Her knee was also in a brace and was elevated on some pillows. Nick’s vision blurred as he sat beside her bedside, cradling her uninjured hand in his own.

“What happened?” He asked quietly, voice breaking.

The nurse sighed sadly. “Some idiot ran through a stop sign and t-boned her on the driver's side. She’s got a concussion and a severely sprained left wrist and knee.” She paused. “She’s lucky. Really lucky.”

At the nurse’s confession, all the emotion Goose had been holding back finally broke through. A sob escaped him as he pulled her hand up to his lips. “Will she be okay?”

“(Y/n)’s expected to make a full recovery. She’s just sleeping right now.”

He sighed, thanking the nurse before turning his attention back to his wife. Leaning over the bed, he kissed her lips softly, careful not to irritate her cut-up face. Even laying in a hospital bed, he thought she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

A few minutes later, Mav entered the room, eyes widening at the bruises and cuts that covered her face, just like Goose had minutes prior. 

Nick looked over his shoulder at the man with a teary smile. “She’s okay, Mav. She’s okay.” 

Breathing a shuddering breath, Pete crossed the room and pulled Goose into a hug. “What did the doctor say?” 

“Some guy ran a stop sign and smashed into her driver's side. She’s got some cuts and bruises with a concussion and a sprained wrist.”

“How long until she wakes up?” He asked, taking a seat next to Nick.

“However long she needs. The nurse said she’s just resting…thanks for everything, Mav. Really. Thank you.” 

Later that night, after Mav had left, Goose was slouched asleep in his bedside chair when he felt (y/n)’s hand squeeze his. Shooting up, tears once again filled his eyes at the sight of his wife’s smiling face. Scooting closer, he cupped her cheek as he connected their lips softly. 

“Hey, honey. How’re you feeling?” He asked quietly, kissing her hand and smoothing her hair back off her forehead.

(Y/n) sighed and squeezed her eyes shut. “Terrible.”

“Do you remember what happened?”

“I remember being on my way to the base and then…” she trailed off, pausing to think. “I remember a car coming towards me and then…nothing.”

Nick’s heart dropped, and he lowered his head at the realization she was coming to see him. (Y/n) knew what he was doing. He was finding a way to somehow blame himself for her accident.

“No. You’re not doing this. This is not your fault.”

The pilot continued to stare at his lap. “But you were coming to see me.”

“You didn’t even know about it, baby,” she cooed, cupping his cheek with her good hand. “It’s nobody’s fault except the guy who hit me.”

When he didn’t move from his position, she gently brought his face up to look at her. Her heart broke at his red and puffy eyes with tears leaking from them.

The second he let out a sob, (y/n) pulled him into her arms, cradling his head against her chest. Shortly after, she began to cry, knowing just how close she was to not coming home.

The couple stayed in each other’s arms for a while, just thankful they could be together after the eventful day. 

Goose pulled back first with a broken sigh. “I love you so much, baby. I-I thought the worst when they told me. I’m so glad you’re okay.”

“I love you, too,” she whispered, leaning in, stopping just before their lips touched. “Can you make me breakfast in bed tomorrow?”

A smile made its way onto his face as he pressed their lips together, running his hand over her cheek. 

Pulling away, he rested his forehead against hers, careful of her injuries. “Whatever you want, Mrs. Bradshaw.”

She looked around the room with furrowed brows and whispered. “Hey, Goose, you big stud.”

“That’s me,” he replied, chuckling under his breath.

(Y/n) grabbed his collar and looked him straight in the eyes. “Get me out of this bed or lose me forever.”

“Show me the way home, honey.”

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[crazyk-imagine]

Don’t Fear the Beast or Inanimate Talking Objects

Pairing: Beast!Nick “Goose” Bradshaw x Belle!Reader Characters: Beast!Nick “Goose” Bradshaw. Belle!Reader, Tom “Iceman” Kazansky (brother), Rick “Hollywood” Neven (brother), Charlotte “Charlie” Blackwood (sister), Penny Benjamin (Sister), Mike Viper” Metcalf (Dad), Pete “Maverick” Mitchell (Lumiere), Marcus “Sundown” Williams (Cogsworth), Sam “Merlin” Wells (The enchantress), Leonard “Wolfman” Wolfe (Henry “Wolfman” Ruth) (Coatrack), Peppermint (the horse [a true icon]) Adam, Gaston, Le Fou, Carole Bradshaw (briefly mentioned), Sydney (Belle’s mother) (briefly mentioned) Warnings: Angst, fluff, mix of two versions of this movie, I have no regrets, sad times, mentions of death, Bradley adopting reader as his mother, Hollywood and Iceman are big brothers, Charlie and Penny are big sisters, chaotic family energy, this has consumed my thoughts for this entire week, Nick being depressed over losing his lovey Carole, the castle has terrible weather, this took a minute for me to write Word Count: 13,897

Top Gun: Disney AU

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

You had a feeling something was wrong all day, your stomach constantly in knots your anxiety causing your heart rate to skyrocket. 

It was unusual for your papa, Mike, to not return the day he is supposed to. And if he knows he won’t, he sends word, so you and your siblings won’t worry… especially with the story of the lonely beast who roams the abandoned castle somewhere in the woods. 

The story has always been your brothers’ favorite and the very reason they continue to join the hunting parties the people in town have been because they “want to protect the family.” 

And there’s no way Mike would ever return during the night since his eyesight isn’t the same as it used to be (no matter how much he tries to deny it). 

Another thing he would never do is let your most prized possession, your family horse, Peppermint, loose. 

Your siblings know never to let anything happen to her; she was the last thing ever given to any of you by your mother, even if your family say she’s yours. 

You can’t reminisce long as the sound of her neighs gets you to push yourself off your knees and quickly exit your small vegetable garden. 

You’re quick to grab her reins and slowly place your hand on her head in the space between where her eyes meet (her favorite spot to be pet and the only place that can calm her down). You gently shush her, never removing your hand. “It’s all right, Peppermint. You’re safe now.” 

You swear she understands you because it looks like she shakes her head, deep breaths huffing out of her nose as if she disagrees. “Where is papa?” 

She takes a gentle step forward, trying to burrow her head into your hand. “Oh, no.” 

The sound of your name diverts your attention away from your beloved horse. 

“Rick.” 

He closes the front door behind him. “What happened? Where is father?” 

“I- I,” you struggle to respond, not having an answer yourself. “I don’t know.” 

“What are we going to do?” 

You take a deep breath. “I don’t know but I will find out, okay?” 

“What do you mean? What does that mean, Belle?” 

You purse your lips at the nickname your family hasn’t used since you were a child. You grab his arms, looking him in the eye. “I will be back. But, if I’m not. I need you to-” 

“I’m not going to think of that because it’s not going to happen. I know you and I know you will bring our father home... just give me-” 

You shake your head, “no. You are not coming.” 

“I am your brother-” 

“You are the youngest-” 

“I’m older than you.” 

You click your tongue, “still the youngest, but I will return. I promise. I just,” you glance over at the garden. “I need to find someone to tend the garden.” 

“The garden.” His eyes widen as he thinks about what you’ve said. “The garden!?” 

You nod, “yes, the garden. Don’t- I’ll be back.” You run to town knowing who you need to talk to will be there. 

-

You stop, taking a deep breath before entering the town; you look around to see if anyone (who could tolerate you was nearby), you’re in luck. “Oh! Oh! Yes!” 

You run over to Sam, typically known Merlin by those who don’t like him. 

“Sam! Sam, dear!” You take a deep breath as you run to him. “Sa- am.” 

He smiles upon your arrival until he sees your hunched over, out of breath position. “Deep breaths. In… and out. Again.” 

“I know how to breathe but,” you take a deep breath, “thank you nonetheless.” 

“Of course.” 

“Now, the reason I rushed over is to ask you for a small favor?” 

“And what favor is it this time?” He asks, with a raised brow. 

You tend to ask him favors a lot, most of which consist of borrowing sugar or if he could help you find a screw so your papa can fix your clock, the one gifted to you by your mama before she passed since your siblings never want to help you with these things. 

You shake your head. “I need you to watch over the garden… papa has not returned, and I fear for his safety. You know of the stories.” 

“Which stories? Everyone in town is fearful of the woods for many reasons,” he points out, but the expression on his face doesn’t match his words which you ignore due to your worry of your papa’s safety. 

“You know,” you lean forward as if you’re sharing a secret. “The stories of the beast.” You forgo the unnecessary details of the abandoned castle seeing as he was the one who told you about it, even though hardly anyone knew this minor detail... something you don’t find to be weird. 

“You think he has wandered into the castle?” 

You sigh. “I would most certainly hope not but he had asked me if I wanted anything when he decided to come back from his trip. Of course, I told him no seeing as he had too many items to get from the lists my sisters left, but he wouldn’t accept that answer. I fear he had stopped somewhere dangerous to get me such the thing I asked for, when he knew we could go on a trip to the nearby town and get it there. Oh.” 

The man shushes you. “Don’t worry. I’m sure he’ll turn up before you can even exit the town line.” 

You squeal, hugging him. “Thank you. Thank you so much, Sam. I will not forget this. The youngest of my brothers will be home but you know how none of them appreciate the love of the garden.” 

He nods, “I do. Now, go home and pack a bag.” He pulls the blanket off his basket and hands you a few rolls he bought from the baker earlier along with a medical herb mix he makes for anyone who gets injured. 

You shake your head, “oh, I couldn’t.” 

“You can and you will. It will help you on your journey.” 

“Okay. Thank you again, Sam.” 

He smiles. 

You run back to your home, grabbing your coat and bag with necessary items for any scenario you could think of on the spot; the book that you never take out lays at the bottom followed by some medical wrap, ointment, Sam’s “magical” herb mix as well as the rolls and a small handful of food suitable for humans and animals. 

You want to pack more but there’s hardly any room for other things. “These are necessary items,” you tell yourself. “That’s all I can bring with me. It's okay. You’re okay,” you tighten the grip on the strap of your bag. “He’s okay.” 

After getting Peppermint ready and grabbing the spare key for Sam, you return to where you last saw him. 

-

Rick stands in the doorway. “I don’t like the thought of you leaving on your own.” 

You nod, “yes well. If I don’t do it, we may not have a father anymore. Now move, Rick.” 

He doesn’t. 

“I said move.” 

He gives in and takes a step back. “At least let me come with you.” 

“No,” you shake your head. “I need you to stay here. Tom is working out of town so that he can have enough money to leave home while Charlotte and Penelope are out trying to find new fabric so that they can have new dresses made for them. One of us must be here.” 

A heavy sigh slips past his lips. “Fine but, I’m not happy about this.” 

“I know,” you smile before pulling him in for a hug. “I will be back before you know it.” You prepare Peppermint for the journey and take off back to your dearest (and only friend). 

-

He turns to the sound of Peppermint’s hooves clopping against the dirt floor. 

You reach into your bag for the key, holding it out for him to take. “I’ll be leaving now. If papa and I do not return before tomorrow…” You gulp. 

He nods, pocketing the key before patting your shoulder in a comforting manner. “I will make sure you both return, if that is the case, you have my word.” 

You resist the urge to smile, knowing full well that he and Rick would be the first ones to lead your search party. “I know I’ve said this before but... thank you.” 

And you’re off. 

You hoist yourself up on Peppermint's saddle and crack the reins, putting your faith into her to guide you to your papa’s last location. 

-

She slows down once the two of you reach the blocked entrance of the forest where the beast has been rumored to reside. 

“Is this where you came from?” You ask out loud, voice low, close to a whisper. “How did you two get in?” 

As soon as those words are said, the splintered branches and thorny vines begin to retract themselves, creating a walkway for you to ride through. 

Peppermint takes a step back; your hand instantly reaches her “special spot.” 

“We’ve got this.” You pat her head before clutching the reins, “we can do this.” 

There’s no turning back now, it’s now or never and you have your mother’s genes. 

You crack the reins once more and run through, glancing over your shoulder to see the entrance return to its original state. You shake your head; you can’t focus on that and return your focus onto your current mission. 

The wind continues to get harsher and colder; you lower your head to protect yourself, putting your full trust into your precious horse. 

She slows her pace, but you can’t bring yourself to raise your head until she comes to a full stop. 

It's even worse than you realized, the castle from all the stories is… beautiful. 

The gray clouds that disturb the clear skies near the village and the fog on the lower levels may be enough for other people to turn around and leave but not you. 

It fills you with a sense of nostalgia, reminding you of your older sister during childhood when Charlotte asked to hear a short story about your mother. 

He couldn’t bring himself to tell you kids a lot, but he went into more detail about your mother’s hobby, painting and how her work wasn’t for everyone. 

Later that night, your papa would tell you how he always admires you for finding the beauty in dark and twisted things because he couldn’t always do that himself which is why your mama’s paintings are covered and collecting dust. 

It’s obvious how much it still pains him to talk about her. 

You were about the age of ten when you found out what happened to her and your oldest brother, Tom, was the one to tell you. You don’t think it’s a moment you’ll ever forget and only because you found out the truth. 

-

He tucks you in while your papa was working downstairs. 

“What happened to her?” 

“To whom?” 

You ignore his gaze. “To mama.” 

“Oh.” He doesn’t respond for a few minutes. “Do you remember when I told you of the plague that started to invade our first home?” 

You nod. “As much as she tried and prevented us from getting it, she wound up getting the plague herself.” 

“She did?” 

He nods. “But she was never alone even in the end, she was still surrounded by those she loved... now it’s time for bed.” 

-

You realized that night how much your father has truly done for you and your family even as he was dealing with heartache; he had whisked you all away from your first home to make you all stay healthy and safe. 

And, after twenty-two years, he still loves her even as his life has changed and become darker; you still do your best to cheer him up, even if it’s only temporary... Which is why you can’t give up. 

She stops a few feet away from the front steps of the castle. 

You dismount from Peppermint and slowly walk towards the building, wary of where you step because of the icy grass and cracks in the ground. You hope your papa didn’t fall; you swear you hear the ground cracking as you hopped off her. 

Her neighs pull you out of your thoughts, Peppermint nods towards the side of the building. You turn and walk in that direction only to find a few fallen petals, putting you on high alert. 

You follow the trail and find a rose smashed into the ground due to large animal like footprint. You hold the dead rose in your hands. “Oh no.” Your head snaps up after a shingle falls, cracking on the ground, your eyes shift towards one of the many roofs to find a shadow staring. 

A gasp escapes you; you push yourself up and move away from the area. Glass crunches under your foot, breaking into a million little pieces; you to look down. 

You bend down, wiping away the small pile of snow (which is only on this side of the castle) that covers the item and find your father’s pocket watch. You quickly put it in your pocket before looking up, finding nothing there. “It must have been my imagination.” 

You tighten your grip on your beloved Peppermint’s reins and walk back around towards the, now, open entrance of the castle. “I’ll be right back.” 

Her defiant neighs and stomping of her hoof stop you. 

You pet her, assuring the horse that you’ll be fine and won’t be long. You furrow your brows at the sight of the slightly ajar door, but your sense of worry overtakes your common sense. Your fingertips barely brush against the creaky door as it opens further. You take careful steps inside, not wanting to fall with the poor lighting hiding the dark floor. 

The door slams shut, you jump and turn at the echoing boom! 

You take a second to think about what just happened. “Don’t worry. You’re inside, you’re safe.” Your mantra doesn’t ease your anxiety or heart as you continue through the castle. 

A faint echoing thump piques your interest. 

‘Papa?’ You run up the stairs, searching for the noise and eventually you find yourself in a dungeon. 

The thumping becomes louder and clearer than it had been before the closer you get to the staircase; you rush down the spiraling staircase, keeping one hand on the wall so you don’t fall. You pause when you notice how narrow and long the walkway is. 

Even with how dark it is, you can still see the cracks wherever you step, concerning you for yours and your papa’s safety. 

You carefully step forward, slow enough to apply a little pressure needing to see if it's safe enough for you to walk and once you do, you grab the source of light to your right off the shelf and continue. 

The gasp escapes you before you can stop it. “Papa!” 

He looks so defeated and scared. 

Mike calls out your name, his hands wrapping around the cell door bars, keeping him steady. “You must leave. The- the stories-” 

Your eyes bounce around all over, in search of something. “Where is the key?” 

“You have to leave before he finds you.” 

“What are you talking about? I’m not going to leave you here to suffer. You’re needed back home, and I will make sure that happens.” 

He’s shocked. “But- but you have to.” 

You shake your head, “I can’t. I will not lose another one of my parents. You have much more to teach the others, things I cannot.” 

He softly says your name. 

You don’t respond and ignore him until he says your nickname. “Belle. Belle. Stop.” He grabs your hand, holding it tight to get you to stop. 

You stare at him with sad, tearful eyes and he only smiles in return. “It’s okay.” You lower your head. 

A heavy thud against the last step gets you to flinch and snap your head over in that direction. 

‘The shadow from outside.’ Your heart beats faster, filling you with worry and dread until it disappears. 

The cell door opens, both of you are hesitant to move before you rush to pull him out. 

“We are leaving,” you throw his arm over your shoulders. “We’re leaving and we’re not turning back.” 

Your papa doesn’t fight you nor does he say anything as you two exit the castle. 

“How do we get out?” 

“I have to go back,” he mumbles. 

“No,” you argue. “You are not going back to that dreaded place. It- the beast let you go. Why else would the door open?” 

“He didn’t,” he shakes his head. “The beast told me if I leave, I will only have twenty-four hours to see my family again before I have to return.” 

“Twen- twenty-four hours?! That’s not enough time to say goodbye.” 

The conversation dwindles from there. 

-

You two manage to make it back to your home before it gets dark. 

“Rick!” You call out for your brother, “Rick!” 

He runs out of the house, the tension leaving his shoulders at the sight of the two of you. He calls out for the two of you as he rushes over to help your father off Peppermint. 

“Have the others returned yet?” As soon as you uttered those words, your other siblings rush out the door, calling out for your papa. 

Once Rick, Charlotte, and Penny take your father inside, Tom turns to you. “What happened?” 

You explain that he was out to get the things from the list you all had given him, and Peppermint was the one to return, leading you to an abandoned castle. 

He raises a brow at the mention of the castle. “An abandoned castle?” 

You nod, “yes. Why do you sound as if you don’t believe me?” 

“I never said that.” 

“You didn’t need to.” 

He clears his throat, “let’s go inside and enjoy the fact that father is home.” He stops, “one more thing. Stop giving your key to that man.” 

“Sam? He’s harmless.” 

“I don’t trust him.” 

“Yeah, well. I do. He’s nicer to me than everyone else in the village other than the librarian Adam or that buffoon Gaston when he’s trying to make Penny jealous.” 

“Stop talking to him.” He walks ahead of you, leaving you to look back at the village. 

Your shoulders sag, you know what you need to do. 

You prepared dinner as you planned and enjoyed what you knew to be your last night at home. 

Once everyone cleaned up and went to their rooms, you sneak downstairs, grabbing your coat and bag before mounting Peppermint’s saddle. 

“This is the last time you’re going there. I promise.” 

And you’re off. 

-

She stops at the entrance once again. 

“We need a way in.” You stop for a minute and think. 

“I am... trading my papa’s place with me?” You tilt your head when the entrance opens again. You shake your head, knowing you can’t focus on it any longer. 

You grip the reins as tight as you can before cracking them. 

-

You hop off Peppermint and pet her one last time before trying to let her go. “Run home, Pep. It’s not safe for you to be here.” 

She nudges her head in your hands. 

You sigh, “you can’t fight with me on this.” 

You can’t resist those eyes, “fine but you stay here until I can find a safe place for you.”��

-

You slowly enter the castle, not expecting to see candles lit or there to be less cracks in the floor, maybe you should have paid more attention to your surroundings before you ran in search of your papa. 

The door slams shut behind you, you jump turning around to look at who it was only to find a rocking coat rack. “Odd.” 

“You returned?” The low, deep voice says as it echoes throughout the first floor. Your poor heart can only take so much more. 

“Uh- yes,” you slowly respond, searching for him. 

“You returned in place of your father?” 

“I did. He needs to be in a place where he can be properly taken care of and continue to look after my family.” Your hand rests on the pillar, adjacent from the stairs, as you peek around the corner only to find nothing. 

“The thief has a family.” 

You furrow your brows, taking offense to his comment. 

“He is not a thief!” 

The beast jumps down a few feet behind you and shakes the ground, your arms circle the air as you try to keep your balance before turning around. 

“He stole the one thing that is precious to me. He is a thief,” his voice lower and more menacing than it was earlier. 

“He is not a thief! He was trying to get the one thing his youngest child asked for because he knew it would make her happy!” You shout at him, chest heaving, eyes full of fire, something he hasn’t seen in a very long time. 

The beast scoffs, ignoring the nostalgia that tries to worm its way into his cold heart. “You are to have dinner with me every day.” 

Your head jerks back. “What if I don’t want to?” 

“You’ll have dinner with me, or you will starve.” 

You furrow your brows not understanding where he thinks he has the right to control you and what you do. “I will do whatever I want to do. You are not the boss of me!” 

“Fine!” He whirls around, “see if I care whether you live or die!” 

And he runs up into one of the wings, no longer wanting to see you. 

You can’t believe the nerve of the- the- your eyes widen. You gave attitude and talked back to the beast from the stories you’ve been told about for as long as you can remember (since you moved to the village). “I just- oh my,” you take a deep breath and try to calm yourself. 

“You held yourself together. Better than I ever could,” a male voice says. 

You whirl around, finding no one there. “Who said that?” 

“I did.” 

You look down and find a candelabra there. Your eyes widen and you fall back into the nearest chair. “I’ve lost my mind. I’ve lost it and it’s never coming back.” 

“Don’t say that mademoiselle.” 

“I’m saying it.” 

An awkward silence fills the air. 

“Maybe having dinner will take your mind off things?” He weakly offers. 

“I think I need to sleep right now. I can’t- I still don’t believe everything I’ve seen today.” 

“Follow me.” 

-

You lay in bed, dressed in the night gown that was laid across the bed (after a long fight with your inner conflict about if you should or shouldn’t wear it). 

It takes a long time until you can go to sleep and when you do, you dream of strange things such as a man dancing around with a woman in a ballroom. 

The pillars look the same as the ones you saw in one of the main rooms earlier. 

You don’t know who they are or why you’re dreaming about them or even how you remember them when you wake up. Sitting up in bed, looking around the room, you realize how stuffy it is. 

You need to get out of this room and learn more about your new… place of residency. 

-

You barely make it down the stairs to the main room you were in the night before when the candelabra interrupts your thoughts. 

“Good morning, mademoiselle.” 

You slowly turn, staring at the object. “Good morning,” you slowly say. 

“Oh, forgive me. I never told you, my name. I am,” he spins around, “Pete, Maverick to others.” 

A smile stretches across your lips, “it’s nice to meet you, Pete. I was going to do some exploring since this is where I’ll be... from now on.” 

“Ah, you can visit any place here you’d like but- uh- don’t go to the west wing.” 

“What’s in the west wing?” 

“Nothing-” 

“Lots of damage. It’s dangerous for you to explore.” 

You furrow your brows at the sight of the clock. “And who are you?” 

He stutters, not entirely sure if he should tell you or not. 

“This is Marcus, also known as Sundown,” Pete says, introducing his friend. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Marcus. Are there any more of you or is it just you two here?” 

“Oh, no,” the candelabra shakes his head. “There are more of us, very few though. Most of them got away before they could be touched by the spell.” 

“How many of you are there?” 

“Too many to count.” 

You fall back into the nearest chair when the tea cart bumps into your side. 

“Oh, sorry dear. The young prince isn’t so good with directions,” the tea pot tells you as she offers you a kind and welcoming smile. 

“Yes, yes. Sorry, miss,” the second teacup apologizes. 

“It’s alright,” you smile back at him. 

“You must need something to warm you right up and I know just the thing.” A cup of tea comes towards you. 

“Be careful, Chip.” 

“Yes, mother.” He turns back to you, “hello there.” 

“He- hello. I take it you’re Chip?” 

“Yes, miss.” 

“Should I be drinking from him?” You turn to the tea pot. “It doesn’t seem right.” 

“It’s alright,” she assures you. “It won’t hurt him if that’s what you’re worried about.” 

“Okay,” you take a sip and pull back when a bubble pops. 

“Chip! How many times have I told you not to do that?” 

“Sorry, mother.” 

“Oh no. It’s okay, he’s having fun.” 

“Don’t encourage the two. They’re handfuls already,” she jokes. 

A coatrack hops closer to your small group. 

“And that,” Pete begins. “Is our favorite of us all, the ever so silent, Leonard also known as Wolfman.” 

“I take it he talked a lot?” You ask. 

“Yep, you could never get him to shut up.” 

“It’s nice to meet you, Leonard.” 

He waves a wooden post in return. 

“Sorry about them dear. Oh, I almost forgot, I’m Mrs. Potts and the boy blowing bubbles is my son Chip and this one behind me is the young prince, Bradley.” 

“It’s very nice to meet you all.” 

“You’re pretty,” Bradley gushes before hiding behind Mrs. Potts. 

“Thank you, Bradley,” you offer a gentle smile. “And you are a handsome young boy.” 

“You don’t know what I look like.” 

“You have a kind personality, that makes you extra handsome,” you whisper as if it’s a secret the others shouldn’t be hearing. 

He giggles and spins around the other boy. 

-

None of you knew but the beast formerly known as King Nick (Nicholas Bradshaw the II) was in his secret passageway, listening and watching over his boy as he had begun to do after the passing of Queen Carole but more so when the curse was placed on the kingdom. 

Part of him wonders if you’ll be the one to break the spell while the other part wants nothing to do with you to spare him from any future heartache. 

Maybe tonight he’ll eat dinner with you, apologize for his behavior. 

He shakes his head, “no, no. She is not the one. She-” 

An earthquake shakes the building, small debris falls from the ceiling. 

He runs through the walls, not caring if he makes any noise. 

-

He takes careful, steady steps into the room not wanting his heavy footsteps to cause another petal to fall. He sighs at the small, broken rose. 

-

Once the shaking stops, you glance around the room. 

“What was that?” The older woman sighs. 

“Another petal has fallen,” Marcus chimes in. 

“What- what does that mean?” 

“If the last petal falls, the curse takes place and we all become objects while my father remains a beast,” Bradley answers you. 

“You’re all cursed?” Your voice comes out as a whisper. 

“Sadly, yes,” the tea pot informs you. 

“I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s not your fault, dear.” 

“How did-” You glance back at the two boys and decide not to ask now, you don’t want to bring up any bad memories. “When did it happen?” 

“We’ve lost count over the years that have passed,” Pete tells you. 

“Oh.” 

“That’s enough of that,” the clock interrupts. “I think it’s time for lunch.” 

“Okay. Am I going to get another dance number with all the utensils and plates?” 

“You never know, mademoiselle.” 

You narrow your eyes at Pete.

A few days later…

The others have things to do, and you’re left alone so you take this opportunity to venture around the castle. Nothing fun or very interesting in, what you assume, and hope is the north wing. Same thing with what you do know as the east wing (the sign was helpful). 

You take careful steps as you walk into this wing since it’s more run down than any others you’ve seen so far. Your head snaps to the left, eyebrows knit together when you see nothing there. 

Maybe it was nothing. 

You continue and slowly open the creaky door, silently groaning to yourself as the creak echoes. 

Once the door is open wide enough you walk further into the room, eyes catching the sight of the not dead rose trapped in a glass confinement. 

You tilt your head trying to figure out why because the rose should be dead along with the fallen petals. 

-

Nick’s shoulders sag as he walks up the steps, so much for taking a nap. 

This time though, he woke with less heartache than the night before. 

He knows he’ll never be able to forget her, his beloved wife, Carole.

She was his everything and always up for an adventure, which coincidentally is how the two found each other in the first place. 

If only they had taken precautions and checked to make sure there were no bees. 

They knew her family had a history of being allergic to bees, but she was lucky enough to have never come across any… until the search for the most majestic deer anyone could see came about. 

Sometimes he wishes he never wanted to try and hunt the creature but then he comes to the realization that there was nothing he could do. 

He shakes his head to forget his cries for her and how Bradley would never see her again. 

His large body walks through the door without noticing the door was already open, not until he lifts his head to see you staring at the glass with a confused expression, he can’t focus on that for long as his nerves and heartbreak take over. 

“No! Don’t touch it!” Nick rushes over towards it. “You were told to stay away from the west wing!” He growls at you, spit leaving his mouth landing on your cheeks and forehead. He takes a step closer, “you could have ruined everything! Ruined my chance to save my son!” 

You step back. “I’m- I’m sorry- I-” 

He stops moving and lets out everything he was feeling in that moment, what he felt when he lost Carole, when he was turned into this- damned thing, and what (he thinks) it would feel like to lose his boy. 

A deep growl comes from the back of his throat. The vibration of the powerful noise is more than enough to cause the room to shake, the slashed painting on the wall rattles behind you, terrifying you to your core. 

You don’t wait until he’s finished before running out of the room, down the stairs, and out the doors. 

None of the cursed servants and prince can stop you even as they call out for you... not even the youngest of them all. 

-

You hope you're close to the end of this hellish nightmare as you begin to slow your pace, unable to sprint anymore. 

You’ve exerted too much of your energy to keep going and force yourself to slow down taking deep breaths as you stand hunched over with your hands on your knees. 

Growling comes from your left; your head snaps up. 

Your eyes widen at the wolf, and you begin to think. ‘I could outrun a wolf… can’t I? How fast are they?’ 

Until four more stand beside it. 

You blink away your tears, taking slow steps backwards. 

Maybe if you moved slowly and cautiously away from them, they wouldn’t see you as a threat, although you know better; the illogical part of you can’t help but take over during this time. 

A flash tosses one of the wolves away. 

You shout out, “behind you!” 

As a wolf lunges at the beast, you were so terrified of before you ran out here and grab a stick, doing your best to quickly shove it off him. 

All the wolves leave before the beast could harm another. 

You don’t know if you should try and help him not… even if he is technically the reason you left. 

“Are you going to help me?” He grumbles under his breath, and you just- you want to smack him. 

A heavy sigh comes through your nose before you can stop it. 

“Oh, and now she’s mad.” 

You scoff through your nose. 

“A thank you would be nice.” 

“I wouldn’t have been out here or almost died if it wasn’t for you.” 

“Ungrateful.” 

“Ungrate-” You stand in front of him, one hand resting on his chest while the other latches onto his arm. “You are in no condition to walk back on your own.” 

“Oh, am I not?” 

You narrow your eyes to him. “And what do you suppose we do? I don’t think either of us have much of an option, right now.” 

A familiar neigh stops you before you could answer him. “Perfect timing as always, Pep.” You turn back to the slumping lump of a beast. 

“Now, get on.” 

“I’ll crush it.” 

“You won’t. She can handle it. It’s either this or you die in a blizzard... which won’t happen.” 

“Why not?” He asks, lying on the back of your beloved horse with his chest on the saddle. 

“I won’t be the one to tell your son his father died because of his pride.” 

No other words were exchanged between the two of you that night or the following two nights as he rested. 

-

While you comfort the young prince, your second oldest sister, Penny asks your brothers and father if she could ask Gaston for help, to which they denied her. 

None of them wanted to deal with the man whose ego is so big, he can’t walk straight (they make jokes about how he always manages to walk into a mirror, even though that happened one time when he still ate three dozen eggs). 

She clicks her tongue in disappointment, stopping her foot for extra flair. 

“Penny,” Tom starts. “We don’t need to involve that idiot; he’s done nothing but try to ruin us. Why would we start to give into him and his demands now?” 

“He is good. He will help is. He told me so himself.” 

“And you truly believe him? Even after he told people of rumors about you.” 

“That wasn’t him.” 

“Well, it certainly wasn’t the old man that did it,” he looks off into the direction of Sam. 

She stomps her foot and walks away, slamming the door to her shared room. 

“Nice,” Rick comments with sarcasm. 

“I didn’t see you jumping in there to help me.” 

“I thought you had it handled.” 

“If I had it handled our sister wouldn’t be out there with that- that beast!” 

Rick takes a step back, looking at Tom, trying to get a read on him and it’s clear that he feels like it’s his fault even though none of them had control over this situation. “None of us could have ever known that this is what fathers' trip would lead to.” 

“I should have known. I’m the oldest, I look out for us. I told him he didn’t need to take this trip.” 

“You didn’t?” 

“No.” He shakes his head, “but he was sure he did, and it made sense why he thought so.” 

“Why?” 

“Penny and Charlotte were out of dresses.” 

Rick smacks his brother's arm, understanding that his only way to deal with this is through humor, even if it's only temporary. “What do you plan to do?” 

“I’m not involving that imbecile, that’s for sure.” 

“Oh, but haven’t you heard his story about how he ate three dozen eggs to help him get large and after started to go for four dozen once he was large.” 

Tom narrows his eye at his younger brother, “you know I do and that’s exactly why.” 

-

You gently wipe away the blood. “You can go to sleep you know. No one is going to hurt you.” 

“I know no one would hurt me.” 

“Someone’s cocky,” you mumble. 

“What was that?” 

You shake your head. “Nothing.” 

He hisses and tries to pull his hand away. 

“Hold still. I’m almost done and then you can rest some more.” 

The others watch as you take care of him, wondering what’s changed for the cold-hearted king to be so… kind to you after everything that’s happened. 

You place the wet rag back into the bowl, placing it on the table beside his bed. “I’m going to put this on your wounds.” You lift the bottle Sam gave you a few days earlier. 

“What is it?” 

“A gift from a friend.” 

“And how do I know you’re not actually trying to poison me?” 

“If I was, you would know and why would my friend try to poison me?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“That wasn’t a very good question to ask.” 

He doesn’t say anything and grumbles under his breath, low enough for you to not hear what he says. 

“You’re not going to complain or anything as long as you want someone to take care of yo-our wounds.” You cringe at the thought of saying “take care of you”. 

You barely know him and already find yourself enamored with him. 

Oh no. 

He doesn’t say much else and moves when you tell him to. 

“Now, that your wounds are taken care of. I’ll see myself out. Get more rest.” You rush out before he can try and argue with you. 

-

The others follow in your footsteps, leaving their king and prince alone. 

“Papa?” 

“Yes, Bradley?” 

“Do you think she will be the one to break the spell?” 

Nick doesn’t turn to look at his son. How can he answer a question like that when he doesn’t know himself? How can he move on from Carole? 

She was the love of his life. 

Maybe that’s why he can’t. 

He feels that if he does then he and Bradley will forget her and he could never bring himself to do that, even if he does struggle to talk about her. 

“She’s a very nice person.” 

Nick hums, faintly listening to his boy as he goes on about her family and the sacrifices they’ve made. He furrows his brows, “what do you mean?” 

“About what?” 

“The sacrifices her family has made. What do you mean by that?” 

“Oh. She told me when she was a baby, her mama got sick, and her family had to leave making her papa sad. And her big brother has been working hard to make sure they can all buy things they need while her sisters search for husbands and her other brother stays to help her papa with his creations.” 

“And what of her?” 

“She can’t leave her family alone. They need someone to look after them.” 

“Who takes care of her?” 

The boy furrows his painted brows. “I don’t know.” 

That’s why you chose to trade your life for his. 

Nick holds back a groan thinking back to the number of times he called your father a thief. “When did you find this out?” 

“Not long ago.” Nick imagines, if his boy was human again, he would have shrugged. 

The boy yawns for the third time today. 

It’s as though time is running out faster than he would have hoped for. 

The two Bradshaw’s fall asleep, one dreaming of a time when he could have fun without worrying about breaking into pieces; the other, he dreams of dancing with the one he is to call his wife. 

-

You, more or less, have the same dream although this one turns into a nightmare with two women dying. 

You push yourself up, no longer feeling the need to sleep. You couldn’t tell who either of the women were at first. 

But the more you think about it, you slowly begin to see who it is. 

As you sit in bed, analyzing all that you dreamed of, you knew one was your darling mother while the other was Bradley’s mother, the beast’s first love. You still cannot wrap your mind around the fact that you keep dreaming of her. 

Maybe sitting in front of the fire would help you fall back asleep. 

You take the blanket off your bed and wrap it around your shoulders as you tiptoe out of your room and down the stairs until you make it to the main room. 

The fireplace is already going by the time you sit in the chair. 

You let your mind wander, curious as to what your family is doing. 

-

Hardly anyone sleeps soundly in your family’s home anymore as they continue to work on a plan to bring you home. 

“Why can’t we leave and try to find it?” Charlotte asks. 

“Because, as I’ve said before, Char. We don’t know where it is. How many times do I have to tell you that,” Tom tells her. 

“I don’t know, I didn’t hear you. Tell me again.” 

Mike does his best to clear the tension between your siblings. 

“Enough.” 

They don’t stop, it’s like they don’t even hear him and continue to bicker at one another. 

“Enough!” 

They turn towards him, giving him their full attention. 

“You two are adults and will act like it because you are not the only ones scared for the safety of your sister.” 

They lower their heads, muttering apologies. 

“We need to focus on figuring out where that damned castle is so we can bring Belle, home.” 

Rick doesn’t want to ask but knows if he doesn’t, no one will. “Do you remember where it is? You said it was surrounded by the forest; how did you manage to make it through?” 

“I,” your papa pauses, thinking back. “I just- there was an opening.” 

“Where?” 

“There was- there was just an opening.” 

“We need to know where she went, we need to know how to find our sister.” 

“I understand that. I know better than anyone how it is to miss someone but there wasn’t anything significant that could help us.” 

“What if we talk to Gaston?” 

The three men turn towards Penny. 

“He might be able to help.” 

“We’re not going the idiot so he can flex his muscles,” Tom explains to her. 

She rolls her eyes, “he wouldn’t do that.” 

“He does it all the time and it’s annoying because you get distracted and that’s not gonna help us.” 

She huffs, “do you want to find her or not?” 

“Of course, we do but we’re going to do it without him.” 

“Have any of you told anyone anything about Belle’s current... predicament?” Rick asks. He remembers the weird looks the people in town were giving him earlier that day. 

“Why do you ask?” Charlotte chimes in. 

“You don’t want her to talk to Gaston about this but, I felt eyes on me as I walked through town earlier.” 

“But you always have eyes on you. We all do,” Tom argues. 

“I know, I know.” Rick starts, “it just- it felt like there were more eyes on me today and I feel like people are noticing that she isn’t home. I think they’re starting to talk about it.” 

“Ignore anything they say. We’re bringing her home no matter what it takes, you got it?” Tom gives his siblings a stern look. 

They nod, not giving him a verbal response. 

Sometimes it’s better to go along with what Tom tells em rather than try and argue with him. “It’s too late for us to go out tonight but first thing when we wake up, we’re searching for her.” 

Your papa and younger brother nod. 

“We’ll stay here in case she comes back,” Charlotte adds. 

It was agreed that this was the plan and if they couldn’t find you tomorrow- they’re not thinking about that because they won’t stop. 

They’ll keep going until they can’t any longer. 

-

You wake up to find yourself in the bed that’s been deemed as yours. You furrow your brows, knowing for a fact that you did leave this room at some point. 

Part of you wonders if it was a dream or if the beast carried you back here. 

You find a book on the nightstand and fight the urge to smile before dismissing the thought, not being able to imagine him doing something so kind… even if you did recently help him with his wounds. 

You get dressed and don’t plan on asking him if he did or not, it’d be easier to forget your crazy thought than try and dig for information. 

You don’t find anyone in the hallway or near the stairs, other than the echoing putter patter of what you assume to be the hunting dogs, remembering the brief description of how Bradley’s mother passed. 

You feel for the boy, knowing how he feels especially since it happened when he was so young and why… Nick acts the way he does. 

You consider yourself lucky since your papa never lashed out at any of you. You know what you’re going to do today. 

You walk along the lower hallways, stopping when you spot a familiar tall figure speaking to his son. 

You find yourself standing beside the doorway, unsure if you should leave or not, knowing that the floorboards would creak underneath you. 

-

“She is a nice person.” 

“So, I’ve heard,” his father mutters before setting his son down onto the table so he can search for another book. “You should smile at her.” 

“Why would I do that, Brad?” 

“She doesn’t have many friends and I know you would like her.” 

“I don’t think anyone could befriend a beast,” he mutters under his breath. “That sounds like an interesting idea.” 

“She likes to read.” 

“Does she now?” He asks as if he doesn’t already know. 

If the boy was human, he’d be nodding. “Yep! And she’s read a lot of the books we have here.” 

“Oh.” 

“I think she’d like to visit our library.” 

“Interesting.” 

“Her favorite is also yours.” 

“Really?” 

“I think she’s a good person to talk to… she would understand why you’re angry if you told her more about mama.” 

Nick spins around, “what do you mean? Did you tell her of your mother?” 

“Only after she told me how her mama died a few months after she was born. Her papa doesn’t talk about her.” 

He sighs. “I don’t want to burden anyone else with knowing about your mother.” 

“She would be happy to listen. She smiles every time I talk about her.”

“And how many times has that been?” 

The boy doesn’t respond for a few seconds, trying to figure something out. “Twice.” 

“And she was nice enough to take the time to listen to your ramblings?” 

The teacup jumps up in happiness. “She did. She only got sad when she told me how no one from her family can speak of her without getting sad or not wanting to speak of her at all.” 

“I’m sorry to hear that.” 

“Tell her.” 

“I’m with him.” Pete pops up out of nowhere. 

Nick purses his lips, not liking when the two agree (ever, it never turns out well). “I can’t just tell her. She won’t understand and I- I wouldn’t be able to explain it to her.” 

“Then take the time to explain it to her,” Pete adds with a “duh” tone. 

“I’m not doing that. She doesn’t like me and I’ve- I’ve grown to accept that.” 

“But-” 

“Enough Bradley, it’s time for your lessons with Miss Potts and Chip.” 

“He’s not wrong, you know.” 

“Can it, Mav. It’s not happening.” 

“But she still has it.” 

“No. No one else has that loving feeling but-” 

“You know it’s okay to open up your heart. She would want you to be happy, that’s all she ever wanted.” 

“How can I be happy when it feels like I’m betraying her?” 

“That just proves you loved her with all that you could.” 

“So, that means I have nothing left to give?” 

“N- No, I meant that you loved Carole with all that you could. Now, you have a chance to prove to yourself that you’re not the grumpy old man you pretend to be.” 

“I’m not a grumpy old man,” Nick mumbles. 

“Oh, you’re right. You’re an angry old man who pretends his heart is ice-cold and black, like he’s not worthy of finding someone new to love.” 

“I’m done with this conversation.” 

“Only because you know I’m right.” 

Nick walks out of the room before he grabs his friend and throws him out a window (again). He huffs, debating on walking through the walls today. 

‘Maybe I should try and show her kindness? Perhaps the book isn’t enough.’ 

He walks down the hallway, his ears twitching when Miss Potts' voice echoes through the hallway. 

He steps closer, hiding behind the door, watching as the older woman talks to the kids and you. 

-

“I wish I could help more around here. I feel like I’m not doing much.” 

“Oh, don’t worry about that deary,” Miss Potts assures her. 

“I can’t. At home… at my family’s home we would always be doing some kind of chore especially since our papa is getting older and can’t do a lot without getting hurt and prefers to be working on clocks as well as any other item that need to be fixed,” you smile, thinking about it. 

“I hope they’re all okay.” 

“I’m sure they are,” Miss Potts tries her best to reassure you. 

You shrug, “perhaps.” You push yourself out of the chair. “Excuse me, you two have lessons you should be doing.” 

You exit the room in search of something else to do. 

-

The tall beast managed to scurry away before you could get closer. 

Nick watches from a distance, realizing how sad you must be... away from your family. He knows what he needs to do. 

-

You stand in the very same ballroom that continues to haunt your dreams. You hadn’t the faintest idea who the woman is in your dreams, and it makes you sad when you think about it because after learning about how Bradley’s mother passed, you believe it’s her. 

You just- you don’t know why she’s haunting you in your dreams. You take a second and close your eyes, thinking back to when you would dance with your brothers and sisters. 

It was a happy time; none of you had nearly as many responsibilities as you do now. 

“What are you doing?” 

You flinch, not expecting anyone else to be here. “Uh,” you spin around, staring at him. “Nothing?” 

Nick raises a brow, “it didn’t look like nothing.” 

“I was- uh- just- uh-” 

He continues to stare at you, waiting for your response. 

“I was… just remembering when my siblings taught me how to dance.” 

“Oh.” 

“We always dreamed of being grownups and dancing in such a magnificent ballroom, you know, like yours.” 

“Would you…” His words become quieter making it harder for you to hear. “I was wondering if you- if you wanted to dance?” 

He hasn’t been this nervous to ask someone to dance in a long time. 

Maybe it was a good thing. 

Your lips form into an “O” shape. “Or not, I get it-” “I would love to.” 

With the way you two stare at one another, it’s clear to see how surprised both of you are. 

“Tonight?” “After dinner?” You two ask at the same time, chuckling at one another’s response. 

“After dinner,” you nod. 

“I’ll see you then.” 

-

You run in the direction of your room, needing to change into something more suitable for dancing. 

Dinner was wonderful as always but this one seemed to be more special than any previous meals. 

You slowly walk down the staircase, seeing Nick across the way. A small smile gracing your lips, your heart races at the thought of dancing with him. 

It scares you, how excited you are to dance with someone who wreaked havoc into your life. 

He holds his hand out, waiting for you to come down the last few steps. 

You slowly place your hand into his much larger paw, guiding you down the final staircase. 

He carefully steps forward, not wanting to overstep his boundaries or startle you. 

You step forward, leaving the proper amount of distance between you two. 

He leads, taking a step forward, you take one backwards, continuing this until he changes things and spins you around. 

You’re free as you continue dancing with him, not thinking of anything else other than the fact that you’re enjoying yourself at this moment, more than you have in a long time. 

Once it’s over he invites you to his library, the one place Pete and Bradley were nice enough to show you the other day. 

Part of you wished you could have read something with him… 

‘Maybe another time.’ 

“I have something I want to show you.” 

You follow him without saying another word, curiosity overpowering any other thought you have. 

-

“The one who cursed me gave me this, along with a few other things as you know.” 

You reach out to touch the book but pull away before you could. “What does it do?” 

“It’s a cruel joke.” 

“Why?” 

“It was designed to take me anywhere in the world, show the world of the beast that I am.” 

“And you chose to show me, why?” 

“I think it’s time I- I show you I can be the person they tell you I am.” 

“And who is that?” 

“Someone who can brighten someone’s mood when they’re upset.” 

You smile to yourself, maybe you haven’t given him the benefit of the doubt. 

Yet again, all you’ve ever come to know with him is his anger, you haven’t been given much of an opportunity to see any other side of him. 

“Where to?” 

You whisper, your family’s old home. Where you lived when you were only a few months old. 

You look around, a sad expression on your face as you see the unfinished work, unmade bed, and the closed trunk off to the side. 

“Oh, Paris? Interesting choice,” Nick comments, not paying all that much attention to you. “Should we go see the Ei-” He turns around. “What’s wrong?” 

You wipe your cheek. “It’s- I- this was my home when I was- uh- when I was younger. This was the last place I ever saw my mama.” 

“Why is that?” 

You can’t find it in you to answer him as you find a special rose pen that you know belonged to her. 

“This is a doctors mask.” 

You nod, gulping down whatever spit had built up in your mouth, although you know what happened to her that doesn’t stop you from answering any questions he may have. “She was sick, and we had to leave. We- we couldn’t stay here.” 

You wipe the corner of your eye. “I never knew what our first home looked like. I wanted to see the last place she was in before she passed. But I-” You take a deep breath. 

“I understand. We can return, if you’d like.” 

You nod, “please.” 

You two return to the castle. 

“I need to- I need-” 

“You need to what?” 

You spin around, looking at him. “I need to- to- to see my family.” 

“What?” He whispers. 

“I need to see my family. I- I need to see if they’re alright. I haven’t been able to see them in a long time. I’m worried about them. Please, if… if there is any compassion left in you, let me go see my family just- just this once and I will never ask you for anything again.” 

He doesn’t respond nor does he make any movement. 

“I- no- forget it, forget I said anything.” 

He opens a drawer and pulls out a mirror. “Use this.” 

“What?” 

“If you wish it, you may see your family.” 

“I- how does this work?” 

“Another gift.” 

You lift the mirror, “I wish to see my family,” you whisper. 

An image of your family arguing with Gaston concerns you, more so when it pans on the man forcing your family in the back of a familiar wagon. 

“No. No. No,” you mutter. “What is it?” 

Nick comes to stand beside you, seeing the traumatizing scene. He knows what needs to happen, deep down, he would do the same if the tables were turned. “You need to go.” 

“What?” 

“You need to go help your family.” 

“But I-” 

He shakes his head, “it’s okay. I understand.” 

“I will-” 

“Don’t- don’t say anything. Your horse is going to get waiting outside.” 

“I- I can’t thank you enough.” You bunch up the skirt of your dress in your hands, keeping hold of the mirror. 

“Go.” 

Your eyes fill with tears because of your family’s current predicament and the fact that you have to leave him. 

“Thank you.” You don’t look back as you run down the hallway or down the stairs or out the doors, only when Peppermint is close to the broken forest entrance do you and it breaks your heart to watch the sad beast man hang off one of the roofs. 

It reminds you of the first time you saw him. 

“Faster, Peppermint,” you crack the reins. 

-

“I was the one who had it all,” he mumbles when your figure gets further away from the castle. 

He slumps down, mindlessly wandering through the castle. 

“Father?” 

He turns, placing one paw on the staircase railing. “Bradley?” 

“Where is she going?” 

“To her family.” He returns to his previous task and continues up the stairs. 

“You let her go?” Pete asks, unsure if he could believe it. 

“He loves her too much to keep her when she’s clearly needed elsewhere,” Miss Potts adds. 

“Oh.” 

“Are we ever going to become human?” Chip asks. 

“I don’t know, Chip,” she responds. 

-

You keep your attention focused in front of you. 

You don't know how much further you have to go but you know that you're close, you can sense your family is near as Peppermint gallops closer towards the entrance of the village. 

As soon as she makes it through the entrance of the village, you immediately hear the cries for help from your family members and the angry comments coming from the villagers (who never liked you or your family ever since you arrived). 

When Peppermint swerves around the wagon you immediately hop off with no sense of the possibility of accidentally injuring yourself. 

Your only concern is your family’s safety. 

You swirl around to face Gaston with an expression of rage clear on your face. 

He immediately ignores it, of course. 

“I command that you let my family go,” you say angrily as you stare into his cold eyes. 

“They've done nothing wrong. Why must you do this to us we've done nothing wrong to you or anyone else. My sister has cared for you for all this time, and you treat her like this? Have you no compassion?” 

He lets out an airy chuckle, one that makes you uncomfortable. Of course, he does; he's never taken a woman seriously a day in his life and why would he start now. 

His uncaring attitude earns chuckles from a few of the villagers behind you, but you don't pay attention to them. “Why would I listen to a woman like you or your sister?” He grins at you, it’s the kind to send a shiver down your spine, dare you say it appears to be a sinister smirk. 

The more he talks the more it annoys you and feeds into your anger, but you stop and think, realizing you can't let this anger get the best of you because if you do, you may lose your family forever, and you will not let it happen. 

“Why is it that you’ve locked up my family?” You ask him, thinking it’d be best to ask him straightforwardly instead of waiting for when he’ll throw you into the wagon, leaving you to rot with your family. 

You can’t let this happen; you have to return to the one… you hold dear to you. Your heart aches, you have much more to lose than just your family here. Again, he chuckles, now it’s not nearly as evil as the first one and yet it still sends a shiver down your spine. 

“You know,” he starts off, “your father- he- uh- he seems to have lost his mind. Why you ask? Well,” he pauses clearly trying to come up with a lie for the villagers to believe. 

As much as you hate to admit it, the villagers would probably believe anything he says because he's a war hero, meaning they respect him too much to disagree. 

Or maybe because they fear for their safety and their lives since they know what he’s capable of. 

“You see,” he begins again. “Mike has begun to say some strange things which raises alarm about his mind.” He fakes sympathy when he says, “we fear for the safety of you and your family.” 

You know he's lying, but how can you prove it when none of the villagers have ever liked you? 

Is that why he’s saying these things because he knows none of them will believe you if you try to tell the truth? 

Why would they believe you when you say it is Gaston who has lost his mind and not your papa? 

You gulp down whatever saliva has built up in your mouth, your hands are sweaty, leaving marks on the mirror as you tighten your grip. “Why- why do you think my father has lost his mind?” You weakly ask, having a feeling about what he's going to say. 

“Well, it’s pretty obvious, isn’t it?” Gaston starts with a knowing tone and a supercilious stance. 

You hate it. 

He slaps his hand on the wagon door, alarming your family. 

They all look up through the tiny window to see you there with no wounds and not looking as if death is waiting for you (as few have thought a few times since you’ve been gone). 

Their concerning expressions slowly diminish at the site of you and soon their brows furrow, you know it's because of the way you're dressed and the fact that you're not dead because of some beast that your father had seen. 

They slowly begin to believe him more now. 

You immediately rushed towards the wagon; your hands touched the wood door as if you were trying to touch your family members themselves. 

You wonder if it would be wise to try and break the lock now but know that if you do then something bad will happen. And you don’t know if the villagers will try to remove you from them or if Gaston will order something else to occur; the thought of any of it happening scares you. 

‘Maybe,’ you think. ‘Maybe it would be wise to “listen” to what he has to say and play along with his games until it’s over.’ 

You lean in whispering, “I will get you out of here, you will be free, and we will be together, but I need you to trust me. Can you do that?” 

Tom and Rick glance at one another, they have some idea as to what you may ask of them, but it still raises alarms in their heads. 

Maybe it would have been best for you to not ask them for help but what else can you do in this dire situation? 

You turned to see your sister’s nod knowing that they’ll follow orders to get out and regain their freedom. 

Poor Penny is crying along with Charlotte but the second oldest of the two is more heartbroken than any of you... which, of course, makes sense since she believed that she was in love with Gaston, and he returned those feelings. It pains her to think that he used her. 

As much as she wishes to weep, she knows she cannot at this time. 

She pushes all her thoughts about him aside, knowing that she needs to be focused so she can listen to what you have to say and help the rest of them get out. 

For once, neither of your brothers nor your Papa say anything as you whisper to them a foolproof plan. 

The man who can eat far too many eggs (for your comfort), pulls you back and away from your family, you jerk your arm within his grasp trying to get away from him. 

As you struggle to remove yourself from him, he manages to grab the one thing that you brought with you from the castle. 

When you see what he has in his hands, you gasp. 

He’s going to figure out how to use it and show everyone the beast Nick. 

You can’t let it happen, they can’t see him; if they do, they’re only going to want to hurt him, and you won’t- you don’t know if you’d survive that. You reach for it only for the irksome man to raise his arm, keeping it away from being within your reach. 

“Give it back to me, Gaston. It’s not yours.” 

“It doesn’t look like it’s yours either.” 

“It is- give it back.” 

“No.” He lowers his hand, inspecting it himself. “How do you use it?” 

“I’m not going to tell you that.” 

“It’ll save you and your family.” 

“No.” 

“You don’t care about their safety? Some daughter slash sister, you are.” 

You groan, reaching for it again. “I need it. Give it to me.” 

The same smirk he gave you hasn’t left his face once since you arrived, it only became worse as time went on, just like now. “Show me the beast.”

An image of the sad beast pops up. 

“Look,” he spins it around, showing the others. 

“Look at his fangs. Those horns. His claws. He will kill us all if we don’t do something about it first.” 

“NO!” You cry out. 

“Kill the beast!” 

“Stop it!” 

Gaston grabs your arm. “Le Fou, open the door.” 

He does as the larger man tells him to. 

“Stop- don’t listen- please,” you struggle to fight his grasp. “Let me go! You’re making a mistake. He is kind and- and he has a family. He wouldn’t harm any of you unless provoked.” 

The man scoffs, “you’ve fallen for such a hideous beast. Have you no shame.” He snickers, glancing over at your sisters. “Good thing I didn’t bring myself down to your level and marry one of your sisters. I would die if I was intertwined with such nonsense.” 

-

As soon as you're tossed inside, the door closes, you slam your hands onto the door, not caring about getting a splinter. “Let me out! Let me out! He’s not the beast you think he is!” 

“Belle.” “Belle.” Your family calls out for you, pulling you away from the door. 

“I think there are a few other things we need to worry about.” Mike holds you in his arms. “Breath, sweetheart. I need you to take deep breaths so we can help you. We can’t understand you, if all you do is scream and plead.” 

“He is not who you think he is. He is a kind man who had been upset for a long time and if I don’t get back, they’ll- they’ll-” You wipe away your tears and reach into the corset of your dress, pulling out a small rod. “Use this to pick the lock.” 

He gives you an impressive look. “I knew I taught you well.” 

“Hurry up,” your brothers say to him. 

He shrugs them off and continues to pick at the lock. 

Once it clicks open, it falls to the ground. 

He pushes the door open, purposefully bumping into the man that Gaston assigned to stand guard. 

Your brothers push themselves out and grab the man, forcing him inside. 

“Grab the lock,” Tom tells Charlotte. 

She grabs it and quickly clicks it into place. 

“Not all of us are going to be able to get to the castle on your horse,” says Rick. 

“Not all of us have to go.” 

“But-” 

Numerous neighs disrupt your minor argument. 

“Looks like we won’t need to worry,” Penny comments. “Come on.” 

“No,” Mike pushes you towards your horse. “You go. We’ll be right behind you.” 

“What?” 

“I can see it, you know.” 

“See what?” 

“Your eyes, she had those eyes from the moment we meant up until the very end. You’ve found love within him. You can save him, but you must be quick.” 

You crack the reins and take off. 

-

“Please take care of him,” you hear as you pass through the entrance. 

You know its late wife calling out to you. 

There’s no other reason for her to be doing this, if she didn’t want her family to be happy and the least you could do is respect her wishes. 

“I promise,” you whisper. 

-

You arrive at the sound of angry shouts and echoing gunshots. 

You look up and find it’s the beast Nick to be the target. “No,” you mumble and run up the stairs. 

The cries of a young boy follow behind you, you turn to find the young prince flying, catching him before anything bad could happen to him. “Bradley. What were you doing?” 

“I’m defending my home.” 

“You can’t be doing things as dangerous as that. What would-” 

Another echo. 

Your head snaps in the direction of the forbidden west wing. You tighten your grip on the boy and run. “Gaston! Stop this!” 

Nick’s head snaps in your direction, he whispers your name before pushing himself back to jump in your direction. 

He grabs one of your hands, being careful not to do anything too fast to harm his son. “You returned,” he mumbles, face full of shock and awe. 

You nod. “I did.” 

He grunts, falling to his knees. 

Your head turns to see the smug smirk hanging from his lips. 

“Stop,” You place Bradley on the ground before putting yourself between the hunter and Nick. 

“What are you doing?” 

“I will not let you die at the hands of this man.” 

Gaston throws his head back and lets out a hearty, belly aching laugh. “You’re protecting this- this beast but not those of your kind?”

“He has been kinder than you ever have!” 

“I doubt that. Now, move out of the way and let me kill my latest prey so I can-” the bridge beneath him begins to crack but he pays no attention to it. “Finish him off and hang his head on my wall.” 

Just as his finger touches the trigger, the bridge gives out beneath him; he couldn’t run away if he tried to. 

Your eyes widen, not looking down too frightened to see him lay dead on the ground. 

Although his personality was brutish and vile, it is still a human being that died today. 

You spin around, checking on him. 

“You're bleeding too much. We must get you medical attention.” 

“I don’t- it’s time.” 

“No,” you shake your head, in denial. “We can get you help and-” 

He grabs your hand. “I don’t have much time now. I can feel myself slipping away.” 

“N- no, you don’t- you don’t feel it. Don’t say that. What about- oh, Bradley,” you lift the teacup carefully before placing him on Nick’s abdomen. 

“Bradley.” 

“What about the curse?” 

“It’s too,” he closes his eyes, letting out a deep and slow exhale. “We’re out of time.” 

“But she can-” 

“No.” 

-

Sam walks up the stairs, not giving anyone a second glance. 

He knows exactly where to go and what’s happened between the two of you, but his curse is in place and it’s up to you now to break it. 

-

The ground shakes violently as the last petal falls. 

More than half the staff have become a stiffened furniture version of who they used to be, Pete, Marcus, and Leonard were the last ones. 

Leonard waves one last time before rocking side to side as he takes his final form. 

Pete turns to Marcus, prepared to make a final speech but can’t find it in him to do so. 

“Until we meet again,” he whispers, to the antique clock. 

-

Nick and you begin sobbing as Bradley’s face is wiped away and he looks like a real, non-living teacup. 

“Please don’t leave me,” you whisper, holding his cheek, wiping away his tears. 

“Could you- could you ever find it in you to love a beast like me?” 

You sniffle, “I can’t.” 

“I... see.” 

The life drains from his eyes after hearing those words. 

You gasp, covering your mouth. 

The last words he will ever hear from you are a lie. 

“I already do,” you whisper as tears trickle down your cheeks, landing on one of the few blood stains of his shirt. 

You continue to weep onto him until your family arrives and pulls you away. You lean onto your father and wet his shoulder with your love and grief-stricken tears.

You can’t help but think, had Gaston moved his arm a few inches to the left, he would have killed Nick instantly, forbidding you from having those last few seconds with him. 

A gasp is all that enters your ears before your sisters tug on the sleeves of your dress. 

“Stop tugging on-” Tom stops talking at the interesting sight. 

“Tom, what- holy sh-” Rick stops when he sees what his siblings see. 

“Belle,” it whispers. 

“No,” you shake your head. 

“The curse is fooling me,” you mutter. 

“Darling, you need to look up.” 

You open your eyes, glancing at your father. 

He gestures for you to turn towards where the love of your life lays, dead. 

You do as everyone wants you to and your jaw drops. “No.” 

“It’s me.” 

“No.” He whispers your name. “You’re not real.” He takes a step forward, his hand cupping your cheek. 

“You saved me.” 

“No- I- I didn’t.” 

“You did. You saved us.” 

A light tug on the skirt of your dress alerts you. You look down and find a young boy standing there. Your eyes water as you bend down, standing on your knees. “Bradley?” 

He nods, a nervous smile gracing his lips. “Oh my- you- your both-” He can’t hold himself back and launches himself into your arms. 

You gasp and let out an airy chuckle as you squeeze the boy. 

The king kneels on one knee beside you two, petting the back of his son's head. His eyes focused on nothing but the two of you. 

You lean over and let yourself fall into his embrace with Bradley since he won’t let go. “You’re here.” 

“I am,” he mumbles into your hair. “We need to get up though. I need to see if everyone is all right.” 

Tom and Rick help you get up, giving Bradley the ability to maneuver himself tighter onto you. 

-

You all walk downstairs to see everyone hugging. “What happened?” 

“The warlock who cursed us, erased us from the villagers' minds.” 

“Oh.” 

“Shouldn’t he be clinging to you instead of me?” 

The man only grins in return. “He likes you.” 

You narrow your eyes to him. “Don’t make him sound like a dog.” 

A fake beast-like growl comes from his chest. “I’m not. I’d never do that to my boy.” 

“Okay.” 

-

He searches for someone in the crowd in front of the castle. 

“Goose!” 

“Mav!” 

The two men run towards one another, hugging each other tightly. 

Rick leans down to whisper, “shouldn’t he be embracing you like that?” 

“I have Bradley to make up for it.” 

“But-” 

“Quiet, Rick.” 

Your brother raises his arms, backing away. 

They release one another and Pete walks closer towards you two. “I knew it.” 

“Knew what?” 

“I knew it would be you who would break the curse and get the scary beast to become a fluff ball again.” 

“Ah.” 

“No more talking.” Nick pushes himself between you two. “We have a celebration to plan.” 

“We do?” You ask. 

“Yep.” 

“Like what?” 

“The reunion of our people, a potential courtship, and the celebration of Bradley’s birthday.” 

“What was that?” 

“What was what?” 

“What you just said there, you know the thing about a potential courtship?” 

“Oh,” he lets out a soft chuckle, “you mean that thing? That’s a- that’s nothing,” he quickly adds trying to brush it off. 

“It’s not nothing if you felt the need to mention it,” you point out. 

The surprised look on his face lets you know he's been caught. 

The snickers from your brothers, Pete and Leonard around you don’t help him either. 

“I liked it better when you didn’t talk,” Nick tells him. 

“We all know you’re lying. And you’ve missed my voice,” Leonard teases him.  

Marcus shakes his head. 

Part of him feels as though he shouldn’t have mentioned it now, like maybe Nick should have waited but the other part of him was just too excited to hold it in any longer. 

He hasn’t felt this way in a long time and he’s going to bask in every moment for as long as he can which is probably why he quickly added the word, potential. 

He glances down at you once more and the look on your face tells him otherwise. 

Dare he say, you’re happy at the thought of being in a courtship with him? If not that, then he’s putting too much thought into it but, he knows you. 

He can’t hold back any longer and takes a step forward, cupping your cheek before leaning in to place a gentle kiss on your lips, slowly deepening until he pulls away for air. 

For you, it was more than enough in that moment… until your siblings let out fake gagging noises behind you. 

Everyone takes their time returning to the village, wanting to use every moment to rekindle and rebuild relationships that have… been on hold. 

The last few to take their leave is your family, only after giving you long hugs, muttering kind remarks while your second oldest brother makes jokes. 

-

You turn to the side and find familiar faces. 

Sam and Carole watch all of you with happy smiles on their faces. 

The warlock guides the woman closer to the forest before they disappear. 

To this day, you still don’t know if what you saw was real or not. 

-

A few months later you and Nick are engaged, the weddings coming up faster than you realize. 

Bradley runs around the hallways with Chip, their laughter bringing a sense of peace for you and your fiancé. 

“Hello,” he says, reaching for your hand as he kisses your knuckles. 

“It’s never going away, is it?” 

He chuckles. “I happen to find that to be very rude you know. I’ve been working on this for a long time,” he pets his mustache. 

“I know,” you nod. “It was there the same time I was here, maybe longer.” 

“And it's here to stay.” He pauses, his lips tugging upwards into a playful smirk. “How would you feel about Bradley having one when he’s older?” 

“Did that curse take away your brain too?” 

He scoffs, “I’m serious.” 

“So am I.” You sigh, “I don’t think he’ll follow in your footsteps.” 

The boys come rushing up the stairs, coming to a halt before they could run into either of you. 

“Mama, look.” 

Your left eye twitches. “Oh, how fun. Please make sure your mustaches are off before dinner.” 

They nod and take off. 

You turn to him, narrowing your eyes at his pathetic excuse of hiding his amusement. “You are evil.” 

“I am not. He got that idea all on his own.” 

“He is your son.” You turn and walk away, feeling that enough was said and he would understand. 

“I thought he was ours?” 

“Until that mustache is off, you’re claiming him.” 

He grumbles under his breath, whispering his sons name. “Bradley. Bradley.”

- 

A few months later you and Nick are officially married and during the big dance, Pete and Penny announce their courtship (which was no surprise) before the night was over. 

Tom found himself a nice young woman, Sarah, who is his current business partners sister. 

They settle down in town so they’re close to family and for him to be able to continue with his business. 

Rick met a nice young woman, Antoinette while he went to the neighboring village to get a new saddle for his horse, Wood (gifted to him by your husband). 

Charlotte wants to go off and live the life your mother couldn’t, travel and share her art skills with the world, not quite ready to settle down yet…  until a year later when she returned home engaged to a man named Adam. 

By that time, you had your first daughter, Sydney-Carole (named after your mother and Bradley’s). He was so happy to hold his little sister, always careful and sitting somewhere since he was still a small child. 

Pete and Penny married shortly after your second daughter; Aline was born. 

Tom and Sarah moved a few towns away when she became pregnant with their second child. 

Right around that time, Rick and Antoinette decided it was time to go to back to her hometown when she got word of her sick father. 

Charlotte and Adam stay in the same house as your father, helping him and selling her art until he passes. 

By the time Bradley and Chip were thirteen, Sydney-Carole becoming an energetic eight-year-old, and Aline barely turning five; it was a big surprise when you found out you were pregnant again, this time birthing a boy, Phillipe. 

Nick was happy to hear that there was finally gonna be another Bradshaw boy in family. 

Bradley was happy that he would be able to have someone he could pass off his “wisdom” too (a thought he got from his father). 

-

As you watch the kids run around in the garden, you can’t help but wonder how different things could have been had you not asked for that rose and realize, you wouldn’t trade anything in the world to not be where you are now. 

Nick exits the back and stands beside you, enjoying the sight of all the children playing together while you bask in the peace of knowing that this is what your papa would have wanted. 

All his grown children still having monthly dinners so that parents could bond and chat while the children play.

[ghouljams]

Oh to hold Simon's face gently and tell him how good he is. He's a good boy. Your good boy.

It knocks him into that soft space every time you do it. He can have you by the neck, your ankles by his ears, and your sweet screams filling the house. He can growl and spit in your mouth and tell you what a good little whore you are. He can smack your ass and tell you how good you look split open on his cock. As soon as those two words leave your mouth he's gone.

"Good boy," it's worse when you repeat it, "my good boy."

He can't hold up under that sort of pressure, shaking and trying not to come inside you as soon as those words drip down his spine. His hips stutter as you reach to hold his face, as you coo and sweet talk him. "You're so good for me, fuck me so well, my pretty Simon, my good boy." He hangs his head, feels the shiver of his shoulders, turns and kisses your palm, blurry eyed and unfocused. He leans down close, blankets you with soft pleas, presses his face to your neck as you wrap your arms around his chest and whisper your honeyed words in his ear. He fucks you shallow and impossibly deep, grinds his cock into you, back and forth until you're shaking under him.

It's almost as bad laying in bed after, when you force him to look at you, when you hold him so softly it may as well burn, when you tell him what a good job he did. God you twist the knife like no one else, you know exactly where to hit him so it hurts and keeps hurting. "All mine," you tell him, "mine to love and care for, my perfect boy, my good boy."

Yours, he tries to say, but it comes out, "More." And you call him baby.

[nonranghaes]

heads up! reader is drunk. food mentions.

mingyu doesn't know if this is the cutest he's ever seen you, but he thinks it might be pretty high up there. you're drunk as hell, and he, ever the doting boyfriend, has lovingly brought you back home safely. and now you're babbling to him, curled up on the couch next to him, about anything and everything that comes to mind. it's clear from the way you're cuddling closer to him that you're prepared to doze off any minute, but you've turned to asking about him.

"gyu," you murmur, "did you eat?"

there's a bowl of berries in his hand now, some of which he's been quietly feeding you, and he shakes his head. "i ate earlier, but not recently--"

you pout, and pick up a blueberry before pressing it to his lips. "eat. eat." you whine at him a little. "don't starve, my 'gyu..."

he snorts and it causes you to drop the berry. you watch it fall and roll away underneath the coffee table, and he sees the way your eyes get watery in response. "ah, no, it's okay--"

"my berry..." you're still distracted by it. "gyu... my berry..."

he can't help but crack up again. "it's okay," he says again. "i'll clean it up." he picks up a slice of strawberry, pressing it against your own lips. you eat it quietly, slowly chewing before giving him another blueberry.

this time he eats it before he can make you drop it again, and he thanks you with a little kiss against your fingertips. "i've eaten, honey," he says gently. "you don't have to feed me."

"my berry," you murmur again, looking at him this time. then you smile as if you've come up with something brilliant, and lean forward to peck the tip of his nose. "you're my silly gooseberry, mingyu."

and he rolls his eyes, snickering again as he sets the bowl aside. "you're my berry, too," he wraps an arm around you, pulling you to your feet. even with you giggling, he starts to escort you to bed. "let's go get some rest. i'll make you breakfast in the morning."

[jaydencoolguy]

Chronically Online

Other Versions:

[moving-to-dreamwinged]

[tip-top-cloud-surfer]

A Little Gosling (Part 2) - Goose

Pairing: Goose / Mitchell! Fem! OC | Reader

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: (Unplanned) Pregnancy, Referenced Child Birth, Hospitals, Arguing; Female Reader but no use of Y/N or descriptions beyond being Maverick's sister

This work, all of my other works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only.

Summary: Maverick finds out about the little gosling.

A.N. This is Part 2 of A Little Gosling. Here's Part 1 if you missed it.

Master List

About a week passed since Goose and Maverick returned to California and it was time to discuss the elephant in the room.

Or rather, the gosling in the room.

You and Goose were both stressed about it, especially because Maverick just seemed to be so focused on the Top Gun trophy. Goose was worried about throwing Maverick off with the news, indirectly costing them the Top Gun trophy. And then Maverick would be even more pissed with him.

But your baby bump got more noticeable every single day, so there wasn’t much of a choice anymore.

You made sure to make Maverick’s favorite meal and Goose picked up Maverick’s favorite brand of beer from the store just to sweeten him up. And if Maverick thought that something was amiss when he sat down for dinner, he didn’t mention it.

Dinner was completely normal. Maverick and Goose talked about their day at Top Gun. You asked a question here or there. Goose rested his hand on your thigh and occasionally reached up to brush against your baby bump. You were wearing an oversized tee shirt that hide your well enough, but you were quite sure that Maverick was starting to notice you weight gain.

Yesterday, he asked you if you needed to borrow any of his looser shirts for the day, which was the nicest way possible of a brother telling his sister that she looked fat. And if it wasn’t for the absolute walloping that you gave him when you were kids after he called you fat, he probably would have worded it differently.

And so, there was no other option but to tell him about the little gosling. Today.

“Pete,” you called, causing Maverick to look up from his plate, “I, uh, I have something to tell you.”

“Okay, what?” Maverick asked calmly.

“Well,” you continued, sharing a look with Goose, “actually, we have something to tell you.”

“We?” Maverick repeated, frowning slightly. “We who?”

Subtly reaching over, Goose grabbed your hand and then placed your joined hands on the table to wait for Maverick’s reaction. Of course, instead of saying anything like a normal human being, Maverick just stared at your hands with a completely ashen expression. Leaning forward, you lowered your voice to the tone that you used to calm down one of your students.

“Pete? Are you okay?”

“You two are . . .” Maverick trailed off, gesturing between you and Goose. “You guys are . . .” After another breath of silence, Maverick’s expression hardened. He glared over at Goose as his tone reeked of barely contained anger. “Finish the sentence. You two are . . .”

“Together,” you stated.

“Engaged,” Goose replied at the same time.

And, well, that got everything off on the wrong foot.

“Engaged!?” Maverick exclaimed, getting to his feet. “You two are engaged!? How—don’t you have to be dating first before you get engaged?”

“We were,” you explained softly, sharing a look with Goose.

“How long?” Maverick demanded with narrowed eyes. He turned to glare at Goose in particular, who was starting to sweat through his undershirt. “How long were you hiding this from me?”

“Fourteen months,” Goose answered honestly.

“You two dated for fourteen months and you never told me!?” Maverick snapped, waving his hand to the side. Pointing a finger angrily over at Goose, Maverick raised his voice. “You dated my baby sister for fourteen months!? And now you proposed to her and you didn’t even tell me!?”

“Pete—” you tried.

“—I’ll get to you next,” Maverick interjected before turning back to Goose. “You snuck around with my baby sister and lied to me face about it!?”

“Mav, I know that you want to punch me in the face right now,” Goose started off diplomatically. “And I probably deserve it. And we definitely should have told you before this point, but . . . we are together and we are engaged and I love her more than anyone else in the world. Believe me, if you think that I’m not treating her well or that I don’t deserve her, I’ll be the first to agree with you.”

“Goose,” you admonished him, but Goose assured you that he had it.

“Well, where’s the ring?” Maverick demanded, folding his arms across his chest.

You pulled off the chain around your neck and slipped your engagement ring onto your finger. Holding it out to Maverick, you held your breath a bit to try and control your anxiety. Maverick checked your finger before straightening up.

“Well, why are you getting married? Why the rush? You’re not even two years out of college. Why the hell are you getting married?” Maverick practically demanded from you. “I mean, the only reason that I can think of for rushing into this would be because you got knocked up and I know that you two aren’t stupid enough to do that.”

“Excuse me?” you huffed, glaring up at your older brother.

“What?” Maverick scoffed right back.

“Honey, I don’t think—” Goose tried to diffuse the situation but you were already pissed.

“—You’re no saint yourself, Peter Michael Mitchell,” you snapped, ignoring your fiancé. Standing up from the table, you turned to glare at your brother. “And for the record, I would marry Goose for any reason under the sun. Even if it pisses you off, I would do it because I love him.”

“You’ll love him in two years when you have more time to think through this whole marriage thing,” Maverick argued back, sounding like a disappointed dad. “I mean, what are you doing!? What the hell are you thinking!? You’re too young to get married! You should only get married if you’re sure that you want to spend the rest of your lives together.”

“And what if we do?” you countered, glaring right back at Maverick.

“Then I would say that you’re delusional!”

“I’m not delusional! I’m pregnant, asshole!” you shouted angrily.

And just like that, you realized why Goose probably wanted you to calm down. Mitchells had a tendency to say stupid shit when they were frustrated. And well, you had intended to be more delicate with that announcement, but Maverick always knew how to push your buttons. Biting your lip, you waited for Hurricane Maverick to reach the shores.

“You’re pregnant?” Maverick repeated, his voice deadly quiet. You didn’t respond. Rounding on Goose, Maverick’s face turned an ugly shade of red. “You knocked up my sister!?”

Goose, a man who knew when he was in a dangerous situation, quickly bolted from the table.

Ice looked up from the TV, frowning when he heard a lot of yelling from outside. Slider got up from his spot on the couch and glanced out the window in time to see Goose sprinting by with Maverick right on his tail. Goose had much longer legs but Maverick was quick and he looked like a big cat ready to pounce on his prey.

“Hey, Ice,” Slider called, a little confused about what he was seeing.

“What?”

“Maverick looks like he’s going to kill Goose,” Slider replied conversationally.

“Why?”

“I don’t know.” Slider spotted you hurrying after Maverick and Goose, yelling for your brother. “But Maverick’s sister is involved.”

Ice and Slider headed outside just in time to see Maverick dive for Goose’s legs to drag him to the ground. Sharing a confused and concerned look, Ice and Slider hurried over to them as you started yelling for Maverick to get off of Goose.

“Pete! Stop it! Get off of him!”

“How could you do that to my sister!?” Maverick yelled at Goose.

“Pete!”

“What the fuck is going on!?” Ice shouted over the chaos. “Get off of him, Maverick. Jesus Christ.”

Ice and Slider managed to pull a still feral Maverick off of Goose with some teamwork. Goose sat up from the ground, unharmed, but clearly anxious about the whole situation. You hurried to his side and wrapped your arms around him, assessing him for any injuries.

“Are you okay?” you asked Goose, cupping his cheeks with your hands.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” he breathed out, nodding slowly. “I don’t think that he was going to hurt me.”

“What the hell is going on!?” Ice yelled, annoyed. He wrapped an arm around Maverick to prevent him from lunging forward.

“Goose knocked up my sister!” Maverick shouted out into the universe.

“Oh shit,” Slider murmured, glancing between Goose, you, and Maverick. “Well, that really does explain this whole thing.”

“Brings new meaning to ‘Mother Goose,’ eh?” Ice joked, though he looked nervous for Goose.

“Pete!” you snapped at your brother. “You don’t get to just chase after him because you’re mad! That’s not how this works!”

“He knocked you up! If he was any other guy on the planet, I wouldn’t have given him a head start!”

“Stop acting like I’m helpless or that he somehow took advantage of me!” you shouted indignantly. “Ever since we were kids, you thought that you needed to protect me. And while I appreciate that, I’m an adult now and I can make my own decisions. And I decided to marry Goose and I decided to have this baby with him, so you’re just going to have to live with that even if you don’t like it!”

“Honey,” Goose called to you, getting to his feet. “I’m okay. He has a right to be pissed at me.”

“But he doesn’t have a right to attack you,” you insisted to Goose.

“No, but . . .” Goose trailed off, turning back to Maverick. He seemed to think something over in his head before straightening up. “If I give you a free slap, can we call it even and move on, Mav?”

“Goose!” you admonished.

“Deal,” Maverick immediately agreed.

“You’re not hitting him!”

“It was his idea!” Maverick yelled back.

“Well, it’s a stupid idea!”

“I’ll be fine,” Goose assured you, squeezing your hand supportively. “I’ll take care of this. You head inside and relax. This kind of stress isn’t good for the baby. And you shouldn’t be out in the heat like this for too long.”

“I’m not letting him hit you!”

“It’s okay. We’ll figure it out. Just trust me, okay?” Goose promised you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “I’ll be fine. We just have to . . . I owe him something.”

“I’ll keep an eye on them,” Slider promised, causing you to turn. “Just one slap. Nothing more.”

“Nothing more,” Maverick agreed seriously.

“I’ll be fine,” Goose repeated once again. “Just head inside, okay?”

“I still don’t like this,” you sighed, blinking up at Goose.

“I know, that’s why you should just go lay down for a bit. We’ll handle it,” Goose assured you.

You sighed in response, causing Goose to press a peck to your lips. It perhaps wasn’t the best idea when it came to keeping Maverick happy, but if it reassured you that he had the situation under control, then he would have done it every single time. Goose turned back to Maverick as Ice escorted you back to the house and into the air conditioning.

Slider stepped back and let Maverick approach Goose. Letting out a sigh, Goose bent down a bit and left his cheek completely open for Maverick to smack it. With a clear expression of frustration, Maverick waited until you were back inside before turning for Goose. Raising his hand, Maverick let out a breath through his nose.

“For the record, I understand where you’re coming from,” Goose stated, staring up at Maverick. “She’s your little sister and I definitely crossed a line in our friendship and I’m sorry for that. I just . . . I got wrapped up in it and I was worried that if we told you then she would get spooked and leave me and I love her to death, Mav. I’d take a bullet for her without a thought. Her and the baby.”

“Goose,” Maverick warned, his anger wavering.

“I know that you’re pissed and you have more than every right to be pissed. And hell, if I was any other guy in the world who knocked her up, I probably would have helped you beat his ass. But it was me and I’m trying to take responsibility for my actions. So, I’m going to buy her a house after we finish up here. Somewhere with a nice yard for the baby and a good school system.”

“Goose, shut up.”

“And I would have married her regardless. The baby just sped everything up. I bought the ring two months into our relationship because I was in love with her and I couldn’t picture any other girl in the world. And I know that this looks insanely bad, which is why I have every intention of marrying her the second that we’re finished up here. I’ll take care of her and the baby and this whole situation.”

Maverick’s hand wavered and Goose could see the anger fading from his eyes.

“And if this proves to you how serious that I am about seeing this through, of taking care of her and the baby, then I accept it. I’ll happily take a thousand slaps for her and our baby. And I mean that, Mav. I promise, I swear on my life, that I will take care of them.”

“Stop making it difficult to hate you!” Maverick yelled back, lowering his hand back to his side.

“I’m sorry, Mav!”

“Stop sounding sincere!”

“I can’t stop that!”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Slider muttered, shaking his head at them.

“If you were any other moron on the planet, I would have knocked your lights out by now,” Maverick groaned, shaking his head.

He seemed to contemplate the situation more before turning back to Goose. Raising a finger, Maverick poked it out in Goose’s direction with a sharp look.

“If you ever hurt her, I’ll kill you.”

“I’d help you do it,” Goose promised, causing Maverick to sigh.

“Stop being nice about this!”

“I’m sorry!”

“Goose,” Maverick snapped, pulling Goose up to his full height. Composing himself and letting his anger slide away, Maverick met Goose’s gaze. “I’m still mad.”

“I know you are.”

“But I’m not going to hit you,” Maverick sighed, causing Goose to hide a smile.

“If that’s what makes you feel better.”

“But,” Maverick warned Goose, “I am godfather to this kid.”

“Of course. Who else would we pick?” Goose asked, shrugging his shoulders. “Actually, if the baby’s a boy, we were going to make his middle name ‘Peter’ after you.”

“Really?” Maverick breathed out before shaking his head. “Stop, I’m supposed to be mad at you.”

“I know,” Goose replied, pulling Maverick into a hug. “I know you are.”

“Well, that was anti-climactic,” Slider muttered under his breath.

~~~~~

A little over five months later, the little gosling was finally born.

After twenty-two agonizing hours of labor, a very stubborn and very loud Bradley Peter Bradshaw was born healthy in San Diego on a bright Friday morning. You were exhausted and Goose had gone a little green during the actual delivery part even though you told him not to look.

But Bradley was finally here and he was healthy with ten fingers and ten toes and that was all that mattered. You laid back on your pillows, cradling your son as he slowly suckled. Goose observed Bradley from his place beside you and pressed a kiss to your shoulder. You smiled over at him before turning back to Bradley.

“Honey?” Goose called after a moment.

“Yeah, Goosie?”

“If you never want another baby . . . I’ll understand completely.”

You managed a tired laugh and cuddled up against your husband. He pressed a thankful kiss to your head before the two of you turned back to Bradley. Though his eyes remained closed, you were certain that he had his dad’s pair of big brown eyes that were certainly going to melt your heart the second that you finally saw them.

“I’m serious. You want anything, you let me know. Now, tomorrow, any day, just tell me and I’ll get it for you. After that whole . . .” Goose trailed off, not really sure how to explain what he saw in any way that benefited your relationship, “you get anything that you want.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you murmured, brushing back Bradley’s hair. Resting your head against Goose’s own, you smiled softly. “I’m just happy that he’s finally here.”

“He took his sweet time,” Goose agreed, adjusting the blanket wrapped around Bradley.

“It was like he was sitting on a perch, just waiting for the perfect moment to arrive,” you sighed, shaking your head.

Bradley just didn’t want to come out or cooperate with the doctors. Not until he was certain that he made his mom scream ‘get the hell out of me’ at least ten times. And his dad cry at how much pain he put his mom through.

“If only that perfect moment was twenty hours earlier.”

“I’m sure you’ll never let him forget that,” Goose mused, pressing a kiss to your neck.

“Oh, absolutely not,” you agreed, smiling softly. You leaned back as Bradley released and adjusted your hospital gown. “But he’s cute, so we’ll let it slide for now.”

As you cleaned up and Goose carefully burped him, there was a knock on the door. Maverick stuck his head inside the recovery room, carrying a stuffed rooster and a bunch of balloons with him. He carefully shut the door behind him and made his way over to Goose.

“Holy hell, he’s actually here,” Maverick whispered, staring at Bradley in awe.

“Yeah, he’s here,” Goose breathed out, carefully cradling Bradley in his arms. Glancing down at the stuffed animal that Maverick had with him, Goose raised an eyebrow. “Why are you holding a chicken? Did you smack your head into the pavement on your way here?”

“The gift shop didn’t have a goose,” Maverick explained, setting the stuffed animal on the table. “So, I got the next best bird that I could find.”

Maverick walked over to you to check up on you and how you were doing. You assured him that you were fine and that he honestly probably didn’t want to know any details before you urged him to go and meet his nephew and godson. Standing beside Goose, Maverick smiled as he took in the sight of the little gosling.

“He seems to look more like a Bradshaw, but he’s going to take after his uncle,” Maverick insisted with a smirk. “Look at that expression. That has Mitchell mischief written all over it.”

“No,” you insisted seriously, glaring at your brother, “he’s going to be a little angel.”

“Of course, he is, honey,” Goose spoke up with a wide smile. He then quickly turned to speak to Maverick out of the corner of his mouth, “Don’t test her or piss her off right now. Or in the next year, actually. She will strangle you and not even blink and then I’m going to have to hide your body and I’d really prefer avoiding that, Mav.”

“Goosie, honey, I’m tired not deaf,” you stated softly before turning back to your brother. “But the threat stands, Pete. You corrupt my son and I will hurt you.”

“Well, can I at least hold him before you do that?” Maverick huffed.

With some Mother Goose oversight, Maverick held Bradley in his arms for the first time ever. Smiling down at his nephew and godson, Maverick lightly bounced Bradley to keep him settled and quiet. Adjusting the little hat on his head, Maverick memorized the curves and slopes of Bradley’s still red and squished face.

“Hey there, Brad. I’m your Uncle Mav.” Glancing up to see Goose tending to you, Maverick smiled softly at the sight. “We’re a little crazy in this family. But we love each other. And we’re so glad that you’re here.” Pausing for a moment, Maverick decided to add, “I’ll teach you how to fight. No offense to your parents, but they set you up for a lot of bad jokes with the whole double Brad name.”

“I can hear you, Pete,” you deadpanned, glaring over at your brother.

“We’ll talk about it later,” Maverick whispered to Bradley.

[topguncortez]

Goose helping you with ppd after having Bradley?

I changed this just a bit cause I had an idea that came to my mind so I hope that's okay:)

Stuck with me

warnings: child birth, postpartum depression, Goose being sickeningly adorable. Carole and Goose aren't together in this but they still have Bradley:)

word count: 1.5k

Goose Masterlist | One Year TG celebration

gif is not mine!! found on google

There was nothing that Nick Bradshaw loved more than being a father. Sure, flying with his best friend came in as a close second. But, coming home at the end of the day to his little boy who looked exactly like him would beat out the adrenaline rush of flying any day. So when you told him that he was going to be a father again, he was overjoyed. In fact, he fell to his knees crying, and hugged you, telling you thank you over and over for giving him another chance at being a dad. 

You couldn’t have asked for a better partner. Goose was by your side through the whole thing. He never missed an appointment (sometimes he even showed up earlier than you, coming from base and you from home). He knew all the milestones that the baby was reaching. You swore he knew more about what was going on with your body better than you did. You didn’t feel any sort of jealousy that this wasn’t Nick’s first pregnancy he was experiencing. It actually brought you some comfort having a partner who had done this before. He was on top of everything, making sure you were comfortable, stepping in to help you with Bradley, and getting the nursery all squared away. 

When you woke up in the middle of the night having contractions, Goose was as cool as he could be. You guessed it was those years of flying in the backseat with Maverick, childbirth was an easy cakewalk. Goose held your hand the whole time, wiping the sweat away from your forehead and holding your hair back when you got sick. He let the threats and curse words you shouted at him roll off his back, knowing the second the baby was placed on your chest, all this would fade away.

And that’s exactly what happened. 

The moment that Brie Elizabeth Bradshaw was placed on your chest, you were in tears and telling Goose that you were sorry for yelling at him. Goose was in such an awe state that he didn’t care about it. It was truly love at first sight when he looked at your little girl. You thought that you would be on cloud nine after giving birth. You thought that you’d go home, have this cute little family that you saw on TV, and everything would be alright. But no amount of books and TV shows could prepare you for how you really felt post-birth. 

You thought it was just exhaustion at first. Brie was fussy from the jump, the doctors told you that at the hospital. She didn’t latch on right away to breastfeed right, and when she did it was only for a few seconds at a time. It was frustrating for you, who wanted to do something that most mothers did. It seemed as though the only person who could calm her down was Goose. She’d cry and cry in your arms but the second Goose held her the crying would cease. Goose told you that was okay, that Brie could tell that you were tired and needed some rest and that once you got home everything would be better. 

But it didn’t get better. In fact, it almost seemed to get worse. 

It wasn’t Bradley’s fault that he was excited to have a new sister. He was only four and the new baby was like a shiny new toy. Goose had a talk with him about being gentle and letting you have your space, but that seemed to go right over Bradley’s head. The little boy wanted to be by your side for every single moment of every single thing. He was climbing up next to you when you fed Brie, or standing next to you on his little step stool when you changed her, or bringing her his toys when she was fussy to try and make her feel better. You tried your hardest to not just snap, knowing that the little boy didn’t know better. 

You had finally hit the wall and that’s when Goose realized this was more than just exhaustion from being a new mom with a toddler in the house. He saw the faraway look in your eyes as you did things like make bottles or wait for laundry. He noticed that every time Brie cried, you’d jump a bit and wait just a moment before going to tend to her, you looked near tears whenever Bradley would come up and try to “help” you with Brie, and you hardly engaged in a conversation with him. 

“So Mav apparently has gotten in trouble again,” Goose sighed as he pulled the blankets back, “Can you believe that? I step away to be a dad and my first child runs off and gets in trouble,” He chuckled and looked over to where you were sitting on the bed, “Baby?” 

“Hm?” You blinked and looked over your shoulder at him, “Mav’s in trouble?” 

“Yeah, he uh. . . that’s not important,” Goose shook his head, “Are you feeling alright?” 

“I’m fine, Goosey,” You tried your best to put a smile on your face but Goose could see right through that. He walked over to you and sat down next to you. He could see the unshed tears in your eyes and gently ran a hand through your hair. 

“You don’t have to lie to me,” Goose whispered, “It’s okay if you’re not.” 

You sucked in a breath, “Did this happen to Carole? D-did she feel like this?” You spoke through sobs and Goose quickly pulled you into his arms. He knew something really must be wrong if you were comparing yourself to his ex. You never did that. You always saw Carole as a friend and had reached out to her several times during your pregnancy. 

“Everyone feels differently, baby,” Goose said, rubbing your back, “What’s going on? Talk to me.” 

You shook your head, pulling away from Goose, “I’m just not good at this. I don’t know why I ever thought I was. I-I can’t make enough milk for her to eat. I can’t stop her from crying. She hates me, Goose. My baby hates me!” 

Goose shushed you and gently grabbed your face, brushing away the tears with the pad of his thumb, “Brie does not hate you. And none of this is your fault. The doctor even said she’s just a fussy baby. And not every woman on the planet can breastfeed, it’s alright.” 

“It’s not!” 

Goose knew better than to try and argue with you about it. Your mind and body were just too tired to be able to be rational. Instead, Goose gently picked you up in his arms and pulled you into his lap. He held you tightly, rocking you gently as he whispered sweet nothings into your ear.

“It’ll be okay,” Goose whispered, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, “It’ll be okay.” 

— — — 

You knew you had slept way too long when you woke up with full, sore breasts. You moaned in pain as you walked down the hall toward Brie’s nursery, only to find it empty. Your heart started racing in your chest, as you raced down the steps as quickly as you could. Tears started to fill your eyes, the nightmares you had been having started to come true.

“Goose!” You gasped out, trying to keep your tears at bay. You stood in the middle of the living room, trying to catch your breath, pulling on the strands of your hair, “Nick! S-someone took Brie!” 

“What?” Goose’s eyebrows furrowed as he walked into the living room, “Sweetheart, breathe for me,” He gently took your hands from your hair, holding squeezing them gently, “What’s wrong?” 

“Someone took Brie!” You cried, “I-I’m so sorry! I tried my hardest to be a good-” 

“No, no,” Goose shook his head, “No one took her, I promise. She woke up crying and I got her so you could sleep. I didn’t mean to scare you, sweetheart, she’s okay.” 

“What’s wrong with me!?” You cried and Goose pulled you into his arms. He gently pulled you to the couch, still keeping his arms around you. 

“There is not a single thing wrong with you,” He kissed your tear-stained cheek, “You’re just tired and overworked. I’m sorry I didn’t see it until now. I’m sorry I wasn’t more helpful with feedings and Bradley,” You opened your mouth to say something but Goose shook his head, “I’ve got the next week off so I can stay home and help you. Carole agreed to switch weeks to have Bradley. It’s just us, okay?” 

You nodded, sucking in a breath, “I think I need to see the doctor.” 

“That’s okay,” Goose said, kissing the crown of your head, “That’s totally, okay. I can call and make the appointment while you rest. Everything you’re going through is normal, I promise you. It’ll be okay, you’ll get through it.” 

“Just don’t leave me,” You mumbled against his chest. 

“Never in a thousand years will I leave my girls. Hate to say it sweetheart, but you’re stuck with me.”

Goose taglist: @damrlova @shanimallina87 @desert-fern @mygyn @cherrycola27  @yanna-banana @topgun-imagines @bradleybeachbabe @startrekfangirl2233 @xoxabs88xox @bradshawseresinbabe @happypopcornprincess  @bradswolfe @callsignharper @genius2050

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[ohthatstragic]

Ghostin' - p.m

a/n: ok so i was having a shitty, moody day and wanted to try out 1986 maverick cos i reeeeeally wanted to write goose, he seems so fun to write with and i just love him. i might split this into two parts if people like it, just let me know :)

also pls don’t repost or translate any of my work.. i don’t give you permission to do that.

p.s i sort of obviously sped through the break up part cos ew and i just wanted to get to the good bit...

pairings: maverick x reader, platonic!goose x reader, brief iceman x reader

wc:  3,900 to 4,000

warnings: break up, argument, mention of cheating, alcohol, flirting with the iceman

summary: it's 1986, and you have a boyfriend of four months who you love, but you're really in love with the infamous maverick. this causes you to cry yourself to sleep for the past month, the guilt eating you alive. maybe you bump into a certain pair of pilots?...

read part 2 here!

if you couldn't tell this was heavily inspired by:

ghostin by ariana grande

The soft sniffles and cries that escaped your lips woke your partner up, his groans a sign of him stirring awake. You fisted the blankets that covered the two of you, desperately trying to wipe away any signs that you had been crying yet again during the night.

"Y/N/N?" He groggily asked, throwing a hand on his barely-awake face to rub the sleep out of his eyes. You sighed quietly, a feeling of embarrassment and guilt quickly enveloping your curled up body.

"Hm?" You hummed, hoping he'd assume you were half-asleep and just leave you be.

"Are you okay?" Dominic asked. He shuffled about in his current position but he didn't dare turn over to look at you, fearing that he would see what he had seen for the past month. You, crying your eyes out over a guy who didn't seem reciprocate your feelings. You never asked Pete whether he did feel the same way - but you doubted it, considering his playboy-like personality. 

It pained Dominic to know his girlfriend, who he loved deeply, was crying over another guy she had been - or was - in love with. However, it wasn't just any guy - it was her first love. And Dominic couldn't stand the thought of that. Despite his intense hate running deep for Pete 'Maverick' Mitchell, his fervent love for his girlfriend overrode it and it gave him the motivation to power through this shit-show.

"Yes, why?" You quietly asked, trying to silence your whimpers as the pair of you lay back to back.

Dominic was silent for a moment, thinking. "I thought I heard you crying." He mumbled. You felt more tears prickle your eyes. The guilt was too much.

"No, I'm okay," You replied. "Go to sleep, Dom, I love you." It pained you to say those last three words. You felt hopeless. Embarrassed. Ashamed and sorry. You did love Dominic, but not as much as you loved Pete. It was gut-wrenching.

"Love you too." He muttered with a soft sigh, nuzzling his head into his pillow. Your glossy, tear-stained eyes gazed around the darkened room, landing on the window. Streams of the moonlight poured in through the lace curtains, casting a pretty doily-like shadows over the bottom half of the bed. You looked back up to your bedside table and landed on the digital alarm clock, showing twelve o'clock in big red blocks.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I tried to rid any thought of the aviator in my head, desperately wanting to sleep.

****

It was a week or so later and you and your boyfriend were sat at the dining table on an early Saturday morning, attempting to eat breakfast as the pair of you ignored the significantly tense atmosphere surrounding you. "You okay?" You asked, your Y/E/C eyes flicking down to Dominic's limp hand which was idly swirling his cereal around in a bowl. His eyes remained on the table, and you could tell he was deep in thought about something.

"Yeah," He mumbled, looking up at you. Dominic flashed you a quick smile before rushing to stand up from the table the two of you were both sharing, shoving his cereal on the side. Your brows swiftly knitted together at the unusual action and you stared at him. He stared back, his hands coming to land on the counter behind him and he leant against it with his backside. A heavy sigh escaped his lips. "I have to tell you something, Y/N." He said, sheepishly looking up at you.

Your heart dropped at his serious, low tone. "What.. what is it?" You asked quietly, eyes still trained on him.

"I-I've been.. err.. seeing someone else." He muttered and your heart shattered. You swallowed, blinking rapidly, trying to comprehend what your boyfriend of four months had just said. "It's Sarah." He said again, not meeting your eyes. You couldn't speak, you just stared at your plate of half-eaten toast in front of you, your hands sitting as still as a rock. Tears began to well up in your eyes again.

You inhaled a sharp breath before you spoke, trying to swallow the sobs that threatened to escape. "My.. my best friend.. Sarah? That Sarah?" You asked, voice breaking at the end. Dominic's head shot up and he had an embarrassed look upon his face.

"Look, we haven't had sex in a long time, and I- you know how I am, I need a release, my work is too-" Dominic tried to reason with you, stumbling over his words like a new-born deer. You couldn't believe what was coming out his traitorous mouth. As his eyes found you, struggling to hold back tears, his face hardened and his brows furrowed, his mouth frowning. "Why does it even fuckin' matter, Y/N?! You're still in love with that fuckin' hotshot, Pete! All those nights you cried over him!" He yelled this time, and your heart hurt at the mention of his name. Dom spat out his name like it was some piece of shit.

"You know what, I'm sorry, Dom. I was wrong to rush into a relationship with you. I thought I was over him." You mumbled, tears flowing freely down your face now. 'This was my fault, I shouldn't have just used Dom as a distraction to my true feelings.' You thought to yourself, staring motionless at the ground. You loved your boyfriend, but it wasn't the same, pure love as you still had for Pete. "I'll do you a favour." You stated quietly, rushing to stand up from your seat, throwing the plate of toast beside the sink. "I should have just dealt with the pain, I shouldn't have made you feel like this." Dominic sighed at your swift movement, his head dropping as he felt the guilt of yelling at you start to engulf his body. He shook his head at me as he moved towards you.

"Y/N/N, I'm sorry," He begged, swiftly moving to catch your arm, his fingers tightening around it. "Don't go, please." Dom said, his dry eyes catching your tear-filled ones.

"Let go of me, Dominic." You muttered, trying to hold back your forthcoming sobs. He didn't budge, so you ripped your arm from him, walking to the front door as you grabbed my keys from the hook on the wall. "You won't hear from me or see me again." You said, throwing him an emotionless look. He looked hurt at the lack of feelings you had towards his dirty deed, thus making him scoff, the pained look on his face twisting into a face of anger. To you, this was your way out.

"You know what, this is your fault." Dominic chuckled dryly, his head lolling back as he folded his arms. "You were the one that pushed me to do this, you were the one crying over someone who didn't love you back, you were the one that made me do this!" He yelled, beginning to point his finger at you angrily, his face turning red with fury. You gasped at his words, lips quivering as you felt a wave of fear wash over you. You'd never seen Dom like this before and it frightened you a lot.

"What the hell else do you want from me?!" You screamed back, your hands clutching your chest. Tears fell down your cheeks again and you couldn't control your sobs. "I know I treated you horribly." You cried, in disbelief at the fact that he really said those things. "I'm sorry..." You quietly sobbed, turning away from him. "Goodbye, Dominic." You muttered, opening and slamming the front door behind you and running to your car.

****

"Y/N/N?" You heard a familiar voice sound from behind your sulking self and you quickly turned around to find the culprit. Through your teary eyes, you could make out a strawberry blonde set of hair and a moustache. Only one person you knew could rock that. Nick. Nick 'Goose' Bradshaw. Of course you bump into him after months. "I haven't seen you in-" Nick quickly stopped himself, noticing your tear stained cheeks. "What's wrong, angel?" He asked, the nickname making your lips perk up at the corners, showing a smile. You shook your head at him, averting your gaze to the ground.

"Nothing." You choked out, looking back up at him. A kind smile broke out on your face as you stared at him, the memories of him, Pete and you flooding back into your mind. Nick frowned at you, placing a comforting hand round your shoulders. He squeezed you, making you laugh through your cries.

"You know you can tell me anything, sweetie." He smiled down at you and you nodded, trying to breathe properly.

"Well, Dom cheated on me," You sighed, feeling Nick's grip tighten on your shoulders. His smile fell. "I was so heart-broken over Pete, I lost any interest in anything else. I guess I tried to drown myself in that relationship to get over him." You admitted, feeling the guilt coming back to swallow you up.

"Don't tell me you're blaming yourself for this?" Nick's voice lowered as he came to sit in front of you, placing a supportive hand on your knee. You couldn't meet his gaze. "Sweetie, this is not your fault. He could have left before doing such a scumbag thing." He said sternly, a finger coming to push your chin up so he could look into your wet eyes. "Dominic is a scumbag. And for the record, I never liked him. Neither did-" Before Nick could finish his sentence, another familiar voice perked up.

"Who didn't ya like, Goose?" A warm and familiar voice cut through the soft moment between Nick and you, making your heart stop. "Y/N/N?!" Pete gasped, his eyes lighting up as he saw you. His arms wrapped around you and picked me up from the chair. You swallowed back your sobs as he squeezed you. It felt like home in his arms, and you couldn't believe he was right here. "I haven't seen you in so long." He grinned, but it soon fell from his face once he saw your tear-stained cheeks. "Oh, angel, what's wrong?" His hands flew to your flushed cheeks, the pads of his thumbs wiping away your tears. Your heart skipped a beat at the nickname and you had to strangle another sob from escaping.

"It's Dominic." Nick simply said, making Pete glance at him. His eyes hardened as his RIO said the name he hated with his whole being. He could kill the guy, Pete never believed he deserved you. He believed that you deserved someone who called you beautiful every time you walked past them, each time you woke up and went to sleep. The guy was a complete manipulative asshole. "He cheated on Y/N." Nick said again, his eyes carefully watching his best friend. Maverick's whole body froze as he felt the rush of adrenaline spike through his body, anger bubbling beneath his skin.

"He what?" Pete spat, and you shut your eyes, knowing what was coming.

"Pete, it was my fault. It's nothing, don't worry about it." You mumbled as he looked at you, his eyes softening as he watched tears bubble against your waterline again.

"Sweetheart, I don't think it's nothing if it's making you upset," He sighed, feeling his heart break at the sight of you crying. "Do you want me and Goose to go teach 'im a lesson?" Pete asked, letting his hands fall to your sulking shoulders. You shook my head at his question and he frowned.

"No, he knows who you are and he could have you dishonourably discharged from the Navy," You protested, placing a hand upon Pete's one which was sat on your shoulder. Your body betrayed you and shivered at his touch. "Please, don't do anything. He'll get what's coming to him." You sighed, blinking away the remaining tears in your eyes. Maverick so desperately wanted to go and beat the shit out of Dominic for doing such a horrible thing to you, but his better half stopped him from doing so. It wasn't a good idea and you were right.

"Alright," Pete sighed, closing his mouth momentarily. "As long as you're happy, angel." He smiled at you, making your heart flutter. Nick glanced at the two of you and a smile of his own slipped on his lips, taking a sip of his drink. The RIO knew there was something between you two, but he didn't want to intervene unless he really had to. Carole would want him to.

"Thanks, Pete." You chuckled, laying your head on the side of his hand.

****

"I feel so out of place," You laughed, as Nick, Pete and yourself walked into the ballroom in linked arms. You stood in the middle, wearing a knee-length, strappy navy dress. The neckline was a cowl, and the skirt was flowy and crimped, with a matching navy string to define my waistline. You paired it with some strappy metallic gold heels and a simple black purse. "Maybe I should've gone to a party shop and hired a Navy officer dress." Nick laughed beside you, throwing you an amused glance. Pete only smirked, keeping his eyes trained on the room.

"And what would you say to the other Navy officers when they approached you, angel?" Pete asked as we reached the bar, sitting down on a free barstool.

"Um, I would just repeat your stories." You shrugged, smiling. Pete's eyes narrowed at you and he smiled, shaking his head as if you had just said something so incredulous. Your cheeks burned at his smile.

"Sweetheart, everyone knows our stories," He sighed, leaning against the bar with his arm. Your knees went weak at the pet name, and you thanked your lucky stars that you were sat down when he called you that. "You know why?" You wrinkled your nose and shook your head trying to shake off the feelings - and also in reply - staring at the pilot. He chuckled and his lips perked up into a smirk. Another heart flutter. "Because we're the only ones crazy enough to be able to retell them." Pete laughed and Nick joined him, his eyes crinkling. You couldn't hide the big grin that spread across your face.

"Even the one where you crash and burn after singing that god-forsaken song to a poor woman?" You teased, laughing. Nick joined you this time, his eyes falling to his co-pilot. Pete's eyes rolled as he stared at you and a joyful smile spread across his cheeks. You felt your heart begin to race as you stared back at him, a blush flowering across your cheeks. "I wonder if that'll happen tonight." You joked quietly, turning around to face the bar and Pete scoffed at your words.

"Hey," He said, poking his head around your shoulder to meet your gaze. Your eyes darted to his in shock. "For the record, that scene has a seventy percent success rate!" Pete stated, cocking his brow and folding his arms.

"Eh, more like fifty." Nick replied, trying to hide the shit-eating grin beneath his moustache. You snorted, and waved over the bartender. A lady dressed in a smart white shirt, black vest and a black bow tie wandered over and she smiled at me.

"Whatever, it's still a good move." Pete sighed and shrugged his shoulders, his eyes sliding across the room we were all stood in. His little tantrum made you giggle to yourself and your chest felt warm as your mind was flooded with thoughts about him.

"Can I get two beers and a whiskey and coke on the rocks with lime, please?" You asked politely, holding out your credit card. You flicked your eyes down to her name card, reading Nina.

"Any certain beer?" Nina asked, glancing between the backs of Nick and Pete's head. You leaned in and laughed quietly.

"Any run of the mill will do." You winked and giggled, in which Nina did too. "Thank you, Nina." A kind smile graced your lips as you turned back around to face Nick and Pete, although you were met with nobody. Your eyes glanced around the room, looking for a brunette and strawberry blonde duo, soon finding them stood with a blonde woman. It felt like your heart sunk a little at the sight. "Ugh, typical." You sulked and rolled your eyes, turning back around to face Nina who sent you an apologetic look.

"Here you go, and I'm sorry about your friends. Men never change." She smiled, and you laughed softly at her words, nodding in agreement.

"Yeah, they sure bloody don't." You groaned, grabbing the two beer bottles and your glass of whiskey and coke. 'Time to sit by myself, I suppose.' You thought to yourself, holding in a loud sigh that threatened to escape your lips. "Thanks again, Nina. See you later hopefully." You threw on a fake grin and shrugged, wandering off to an empty table. The grin fell from your face as soon as you turned around. "Bloody men." You mumbled to yourself, the drinks thudding down on the table as you dropped them in a huff. You took a sip of your drink and ran a hand through your hair.

"Rough night?" A gruff voice said beside you, making you jump. You looked up to find another Navy officer dressed in his white service dress. He had blonde streaks in his hair, and a pair of black aviators rested on the bridge of his nose as he flashed you a stunning smile. "Sorry, didn't mean to make you jump." He said, offering you a kind smile.

"It's alright," You smiled back at him, almost sheepishly. You wonder if Pete and Nick knew him. "Pilot?" You asked, nodding at his smart attire. He chuckled and shrugged his shoulders. The man looked to be handsome, even with his aviators hiding part of his face.

"Yep," The man smiled again, making your heart skip a beat. "You?" His fingers came up to his face, removing his sunglasses and revealing a stunning pair of green eyes. You almost lost your cool and let your mouth hang open.

"Oh, no," You shut your eyes, quickly shutting your mouth and shook your head, smiling a lopsided smile. "I just got dragged here by some friends. They thought I needed a night out." You said, looking up at the pilot.

"I'm Tom by the way, callsign Iceman." He held out his hand for you to shake and you accepted it graciously with a bright grin. "Who are your friends by the way? Maybe I know them?" Tom cocked a brow at you, his eyes quickly glancing at your dress, making your cheeks burn. He noticed and smiled again.

"I'm Y/N, and my friends are Pete and Nick- well, you probably know them as Maverick and Goose." You laughed, and shot Tom a bashful smile, looking away from him as you took another sip of your drink.

"Oh yeah," He chuckled, his eyes softening at you. "I know those two nutcases." He joked, his eyes crinkling at the sides as he laughed gently, his chest bouncing. "So, how does a beautiful woman such as you become friends with a couple of guys like Goose and Maverick?" Tom asked, taking a sip of his beer, looking into your eyes with a curious smile.

You couldn't hold back the coy smile on your face. "Oh, thank you," You blushed. "But I was neighbours with Goose back when we were younger. Him and Maverick a little older than me." Tom's face had a look of realisation on it as he looked at you, his lips picking up into another shining smile.

"No, that definitely explains it." He chuckled, placing a gentle hand on your forearm. A weird feeling settled in your chest, and you tried to ignore it, despite it being rather pleasant. Tom removed his hand, not wanting to make you too uncomfortable. Before Tom could ask another question, an arm was slung around your shoulders. Turning to the side, you checked who's arm it was in question.

"Ice," Pete greeted his shipmate, although it didn't sound friendly. Almost hostile in a way. You frowned to yourself, watching Tom and Pete share a glare between each other. "You look well." Pete followed up on his greeting. Nick stood awkwardly to the left of him. Pete turned to you briefly. "You okay, angel?" He asked and you swiftly nodded in response. What was his problem with Tom?

"I'm fine." You replied with a short sigh, a little miffed that he interrupted your pleasant conversation with Tom. Pete's brows knitted together at your answer and you shrugged his arm from your shoulders gently. "How did it go with that blonde woman?" You asked, feigning interest, deep down wishing the woman was you.

"Crashed and burned, didn't you buddy?" Nick finally piped up, shooting his best friend a cheeky smile. Pete only returned a weak smile, his chest bubbling with irritation at the fact that his rival, Iceman, was talking to you.

"Nothing new then, hey Maverick?" Tom joked, patting his shoulder and giving it a squeeze. He chuckled and looked at you, a smile slipping onto his lips. "It was an honour to meet you, Y/N. See you around, maybe." Tom smiled and began to walk off, but not before sending Pete a taunting smile.

A heavy sigh escaped your lips as you glanced between Pete and Nick. "What the hell was that all about?" You asked impatiently.

"Ice and Mav have this rivalry going on." Nick shrugged, eyeing the beer on the table. You rolled your eyes and nodded, saying he could take it. "Thanks." He mumbled awkwardly, watching you closely. Pete stayed silent.

"Did you have to ruin my conversation with Tom, Pete?" You clenched your jaw as you looked at him, trying to decipher what the hell was running through his head. "Just because you crash and burn doesn't mean you have to take me down with you, Pete." You stated, and Pete finally looked up at you.

"Ice is bad news, Y/N/N." He simply shrugged. You groaned at his brief reply. "He's not good for you." He said again, fuelling a raging fire inside you.

"Sorry? How do you know what's good and what's bad for me?" You seethed. Who did he think he was? "I don't interfere with your love life, so why should you interfere with mine?" Your eyes narrowed and you sighed in exasperation. "Just because you have some silly rivalry going on between you, doesn't give you the right to stop me from getting to know him." You said again, watching Pete just stare at the floor. Instantly, you regretted your tone. "Pete." You softly said, your heart wrenching at the sound of his name rolling off my tongue. He was someone you could never have, and the slight realisation killed you inside.

"You're right. I'm sorry." Pete mumbled, his jaw clenching. Nick looked at his best friend and sighed softly to himself, knowing the true reason why he had come over and interrupted. "I'm just gonna head home. Sorry for ruining your night, Y/N/N."

"No, Pete, don't go." You sighed, trying to grab his arm but he shrugged you off - just like you did with his arm. Your eyes remained on his smart, white outfit as he stormed out of the ballroom. You felt your heart sink knowing you might have hurt Pete. You were about to run after him but the sound of Nick's authoritative voice pulled you out of your insane daydream.

"Let him go, Y/N/N." Nick said gently, placing a hand on your forearm. You looked up at him, frowning as tears pooled in your eyes. "He'll be fine."

"Nick-"

"Trust me."

part 2

my masterlist

how to request something

[mitchellpete]

Dating Goose (Headcanons)

summary: What Goose is like as a boyfriend!

pairing: nick “goose” bradshaw x gn!reader

genre: fluff

word count: 0.4k

-

He’s big on breakfast dates and prefers them over dinner dates

If you aren’t snuggled up with him, he insists you sleep facing him because he “loves seeing your face first thing in the morning”

Sometimes he ends up pulling you to him in his sleep, however, and you wake up pressed to his chest

He’ll take pictures of you doing anything and whines when you cover your face; he insists he must capture how perfect you look every time

You frequently find those polaroids taped to the fridge and in his wallet. You even found one taped to the dash of his Bronco once

Mav frequently third wheels (A “This is my boyfriend Nick and that’s his boyfriend Pete” type of third wheel)

You love having Maverick around; they both make you laugh so hard it hurts sometimes

He’s a very clingy boyfriend

He’ll always hold your hand when you’re out somewhere, or wrap himself around you if you happen to be cooking. Loves to pull you onto his lap when he plays a little something on the piano, and if you’re not pressed together on the couch he’ll reach over just to have a hand on your arm or your thigh

Calls you “honey”

Knows how to braid hair somehow? Not perfectly but definitely decently. If you have long hair, you sometimes ask him to braid it for bed 

Will playfully “serenade you” in public just to see your smile and your cheeks go red

In fact, he’s a big tease about a lot of things—he loves to make you flustered

Gives the best hugs; because of the height difference, he likes to lean his head on top of yours or sometimes kiss it

An absolute romantic. Flowers and chocolates (or your favorite dessert) are always common gifts from him

Always kisses you like he hasn’t seen you in a long time, with his arms tightly around you or with his hands cupping your face

Makes it his mission to make sure you’re always comfortable. If he happens to be walking by, he’ll ask if you need an extra pillow or if you want a glass of water

You can imagine how he gets when you get sick

Will lose his mind every time you put on one of his Hawaiian shirts

He overthinks easily, and usually asks you for reassurance. You love that he’s super communicative with you, which makes you feel super comfortable and safe in sharing how you feel too

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Theres a new mom and pop coffee shop in Gotham that's doing pretty well. The place has a casual playful vibe but it only ever has one employee, which has lead to it having a bit of a urban myth status.

He's there through all the opening hours and no one ever sees him come or go, only the lights switching off and the teen disappearing.

It probably doesn't help that the shop has a ghost themed name.

His name tag reads, "Nightingale" and he always has a polite smile, but the few who dare to act out in his shop notice his eyes flash a particular shade of green and are suddenly overcome with the feeling that they're being stared down by a large apex predator and a sickening sense of dread.

Needless to say people behave in his shop.

Whats more is that his store shows up on county records just fine, but if you try to look into anything your computer glitches out and you can't find anything. Obviously "Nightingale" can't be the owner, he looks only 15. Some say he's a vampire, others say he's a zombie like Red Hood.

Tim doesn't care what he is because the first time he entered at night as Red Robin the guy immediately started making a coffee were he could see, made it exactly how he liked it and gave it to him before he even had the chance to order. Then he refused his money, saying it was on the house.

None of the people waiting in line argued or were upset and Tim was unsure if that was because he was a well known Gotham vigilante or it Nightingales reputation protected him.

Either way the coffee was delicious.

Tim didn't know how to feel when he found out his family was investigating the "possible runaway" who worked at the coffee shop.

[coaaster]

Cold Sheets;

Pairing: Jason Todd x f!Reader

Rating: E (18+ - minors DNI!)

Word Count: ~1560

Summary: Jason wakes up to an empty bed.

Warnings: Smut (hinted at and described in one scene), possibly OOC Jason, reader described working as a nurse, self-indulgent ngl, slight angst with a happy ending :)

A/N: I’m in love with Jason Todd, it’s actually a problem.

—

Last night was probably one of the best (and hardest) moments of Jason Todd’s life.

You and Jason have been in a long standing, strictly friends-with-benefits relationship. Recently, though, there’s been more emphasis on the friends part, with the two of you occasionally going over to each other’s houses just to hang out and spend the night. After patrol last night, and upon returning to his depressingly empty apartment, Jason called you. And this time, not for a booty call. He knew you would’ve just finished a late night shift as a nurse, so you were no doubt looking to return home and sleep. But after a particularly gruelling patrol, Jason needed to know that you were alive and breathing.

The feeling in his chest when he thought about you while on patrol couldn’t be ignored anymore. Though Jason was the one to set such strict boundaries on your relationship, he couldn’t help but feel you needed to know his feelings had changed. He wanted more with you. But he wouldn’t tell you that tonight. For now, he just needed you in his arms. That thought alone was the only one keeping his guilt at bay for keeping you awake just a little longer. You answered the phone, clearly exhausted, but warm to the idea of going to Jason’s to sleep.

And, for all intents and purposes, Jason would have let you do just that. His cock was half hard already from the adrenaline rush of patrolling, but it shouldn’t have mattered. He could see how exhausted you were as you walked through the door. But as soon as he had you in his arms, his mouth on yours, he couldn’t stop himself. His tongue was in your mouth, and despite the obvious exhaustion on your face, you responded just as enthusiastically, understandably tense from another long shift.

“Need you, baby.” Jason whispers into your mouth, before fucking you every which way he could on any surface, until finally ending up in his bed.

Jason noticed the sex between you two getting noticeably softer over the months, inevitably leading up to this particular night. With your soft voice calling out his name, both your hands intertwined and your pussy seemingly extra snug this night, a confession had basically been pulled out of him. How much he needed and wanted you, how he couldn’t sleep tonight without knowing you were okay. How he wanted more. So much for waiting to tell you. Sweat dripped from Jason’s brow as he fucked into you so deep that you (hopefully) couldn’t think too hard on his words. The occasional comment on how tight and wet and perfect your pussy was for him was sprinkled in here and there, of course. But you, smart as you were, knew that this wasn’t just a sex thing, and you looked deep into his eyes and whimpered that you felt the same. That you needed him, worried about him when he was out on patrol. Your own winded confession had Jason coming on the spot. It was almost embarrassing if you didn’t look so cock-drunk because of it. You both lasted another round, Jason whispering more sweet nothings into your ear and you whimpering out in overstimulation. You both fell asleep wrapped up in each other's arms.

Upon waking up, Jason’s chest warms at how last night turned out. You very easily could have rejected him, could have said that you didn’t want his feelings on top of the amazing sex. But you didn’t. Yet when he turns to look at the other side of the bed, his chest goes cold. It’s empty. The sheets are rumpled, and when he runs a hand over them, they’re cold to the touch. He checks his phone quickly to see if you’ve left a message, or the nightstand for a notepad with your writing on it. Surely you would have left a message if you had gone out. But both are empty.

Jason sighs in resignation and wonders. Maybe he did come on too strong. You probably just wanted to have some nice, stress-relieving sex after a long shift, free of feelings, and then sleep. Or maybe it was just a heat of the moment thing for you, Jason thinks. That thought hurts Jason more than he cares to admit.

Jason grumbles as he gets up, pulling on some briefs lying on his chair of yet-to-be-folded laundry. He lives alone, so the action is unnecessary, but he doesn’t feel particularly up to seeing his naked self in the mirror. Not so soon after last night, anyway.

When Jason goes to walk through his bedroom door, he hears a clattering sound coming from the kitchen. Immediately, Jason thinks there must be an intruder. What else could it possibly be?

Momentarily forgetting that his apartment has one of the best security systems in the city, Jason turns the corner, armed with a candle holder. It’s not a gun, but in the hands of a trained killer, it would do. Chose the wrong house on the wrong fucking day, buddy, Jason thinks.

But upon entering the kitchen, Jason sees… you? You’re humming under your breath, standing over a fresh pot of coffee, dressed in… is that his shirt?! Jason can’t help the little skip in his chest at the sight of you. Well, this is infinitely better than an intruder. He was so sure you’d left, too overwhelmed with the knowledge of his feelings for you. But you’re here. He never should have doubted you.

Jason chuckles, dumping his makeshift weapon on to a side table. You jump at the sound, turning to see a very much awake Jason Todd.

“Oh! Morning, I made us some coff-“ Jason’s arms wrap around your waist, head buried into the crook of your neck. “-ee?” You wrap your arms around Jason’s shoulders, running a hand through his undercut.

“Everything okay?” you whisper lightly, listening to the sounds of Jason’s breathing. He turns his head, burying his nose into your hair instead.

Jason hums an affirmative and pulls back to look you in the eye. “Thought you left without saying goodbye this morning,” he says, half joking as if to not worry you. He lifts a hand from your waist, his fingers running over your cheek and down your jaw in the hopes of distracting you from his concern. It doesn’t work, because you know him so well. You hold his hand against your cheek, turning your head to press a kiss to his palm.

“Nah, I just needed my morning coffee.” You kiss his hand again, “Probably would’ve woken you up if I was going somewhere, anyway.” Jason hums, satisfied with your answer. You clear your throat.

“So, about last night…” Jason’s face drops. He knew this conversation was coming, but he would’ve appreciated a bit of a roll around in the sheets before it happened.

Jason returns his hands to your waist and looks you in the eye. “If it’s too much for you, we can just ignore it.” Though it hurts Jason to say, he knows it’s true. He could pretend to never have said what he did, and even abandon the whole ‘with-benefits’ part of your friendship. As long as he got to be near you, that was enough.

You raise your eyebrows in response. “Oh.” You look disappointed for a moment. “Well. I was going to say that if you really meant what you said last night, then you should probably take me out on a date, but…”

Jason’s face blanks. “Wait, what?” That was not the direction he thought this conversation was taking. His heart beats faster in anticipation.

You blink up at him. “What do you mean, what? Hang on, were you just saying that to get off or-“

“No, no, of course not, I-“ Jason breaths in slowly and then looks back at you. “Okay, yeah, you’re right.”

You’re bewildered for a moment but Jason quickly explains.

“Let me take you out on a date. A proper one.” He steps in closer, cupping your face. “I did mean everything I said last night. I want more with you. So- fuck, I’ve never done this before.”

You roll your eyes playfully, muttering a clearly under your breath, which Jason pinches you on the cheek for in jest.

Jason’s grinning now, and a smile is spreading on your face, too, “Let me take you to that Italian place you always talk about. Tonight.”

You tap your chin as if in thought, “Hmm, I don’t know, I’m pretty busy tonight…”

“Liar.”

You gasp dramatically at his accusation, but he’s smiling, at least. Considering he knows your schedule back to front, you’re not surprised he would call you out so quickly.

You pull him closer by his thick waist, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck. The tops of his cheeks turn a shade of red and you can’t help but think that, despite Jason’s large size, he was still so fucking cute.

“Yes, Jason Todd. Take me out to dinner.”

Jason looks down at your smiling face, wraps his large hands around your waist and sighs. He leans down to kiss you, without the intention of it leading to more. Because he can just do that now.

Scratch what Jason said about last night. This is the best moment of his life.

—