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"The Hunt" - Cregan Stark x Velaryon!Reader

A/N: man im actually kinda proud of this damn

Summary: Your mother sends you, her eldest child and heir, North to garner support for the Blacks.

TW: profanity, innuendo, uses female pronouns and AFAB description, NSFW NSFW NSFW P IN V SEX, breeding kink, primal kink, lots of sluttiness, mentions of luke's death, mentions of prior incestuous relationship, very slutty times idk, unprotected sex wrap it before you tap it kids

Word Count: 3,679 words

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

HOTD Taglist (BOLD means it did not allow me to tag you): @jamespotterismydaddy @ietss @michaelcliffordbrokeintomyhouse @daenerysapologist @hopelesswritergall @fairysluna @champomiel @poppyreader

When your mother sent you as an envoy to Winterfell, you know she did so hoping to earn Cregan Stark’s loyalty with a marriage pact. A marriage to bind the Wolf in the North to you, her beloved daughter. While you always thought you’d be betrothed to your beloved twin, Jace, the light of your life, circumstances made it imperative that he marry Baela, to secure Princess Rhaenys’s support in Luke’s claim to Driftmark. Jace and you mourned the loss of your love before it began, but swore to do your duty, setting all dreams of being together aside for the good of the Realm.

Then, Aegon usurped your mother’s crown and the time came for alliances to be made. Luke was sent to Storm’s End, Jace to the Vale, and you to Winterfell. Being your mother’s eldest child, the Princess of Dragonstone now, you were to go the furthest distance. The strongest of her children. The bravest.

As you and your two younger brothers readied to mount your dragons, you quickly ran over and embraced them both, as tightly as you could. First, you turned to Luke and gave him an almost motherly kiss on the forehead, urging him to be careful. Then, you turned to Jace and shared a kiss. Just one. It was chaste and it said a thousand words, and it was over before it began.

As you and your brothers took to the skies, you had a sinking feeling in your heart, and you didn’t understand why. You’re not a dreamer like Helaena. You don’t know the future. You just knew… Something was going to happen. A feeling in the pit of your stomach.

When you reached Winterfell, your suspicions were soon proved correct. When you landed your mighty beasts at the gates of Winterfell, Lord Cregan Stark and his retainers are there to greet you. The young Lord Stark’s handsome features were the first thing you noticed. Those piercing gray eyes that seemed to see right through you and knew all your secrets. His mouth was set into a grim line as you hopped off of your dragon.

“Lord Stark,” you spoke calmly, “What has happened?”

“Your brother, my princess. Prince Lucerys… He is dead.”

Such awful words had never been said from such a beautiful mouth. You felt as though your whole world had come crashing down on you. But, you managed to calm yourself, taking a sharp breath.

“Thank you for telling me, Lord Stark,” you said quietly, giving him a polite and what you hoped to be kindsmile, “I’m sure it must have been very difficult for you.”

The first few days you were at Winterfell, you hardly emerged from your guest chambers. You sobbed and sobbed, wanting nothing more than to be reunited with your little brother. Your precious Luke. The first baby you ever held, the one who you took for his first dragon ride. The ache in your heart was unbearable.

On the fifth day of your stay, you finally emerged, feeling slightly more like yourself. Cregan approached you.

“My princess, would you mind very much if I showed you my favorite place in Winterfell?”

You looked up at him, eyes still red from the oceans of tears you’d cried, “Yes, Lord Stark, please lead the way.”

And Cregan Stark smiled at you. From all the rumors you’ve heard, he’s a gruff and serious man, his life tainted by tragedies no one should have to suffer at such a young age. But he gave you the kindest, most beautiful smile you thought you’d ever seen. He led you to the Godswood, telling you that is where he went when his beloved younger brother died. And his father. Cregan, it seemed, had suffered much as you had.

And so, the two of you were drawn together, constantly spending time together. He took you through the worst of your grief.

And he fell in love with you. So deeply that it terrified him. The Wolf in the North wasn’t used to this feeling that overtook him when he was around you. This warmth in his chest. The quickening of his breath and rapid beating of his heart. But, he knew. It was love. He was in love with you. And judging by the way you snuck glances at him whenever you thought he wasn’t looking, he was quite sure you felt the same.

You weren’t like anyone he’d ever met before. Certainly, Northern ladies had their own charm. Honest and hardworking, kind and strong. But there was a playfulness about you, a certain mischievousness that he found entirely irresistible. He found himself adoring every moment he spent with you, craving your presence like a starving man in the desert craves water to quench his thirst. And of course, his thoughts did not remain entirely free of more… Unmentionable desires for long.

The way your dresses seemed to be fitted a bit more than the ones he’d seen Northern girls wear. The way your hips swayed when you walked, effortlessly enticing him. Your sweet scent, your voice. Everything.

Cregan read your mother’s letter the day you had arrived, but chose not to mention it quite yet, wanting you to take your time to grieve. The letter proposed a marital alliance, joining the houses of Stark and Targaryen by wedding the two of you. The Lord of Winterfell and the rightful Princess of Dragonstone. Cregan was not opposed to the idea, of course, rather he supported the notion wholeheartedly. He simply wanted to wait for the right moment to broach the subject.

That moment comes this night, the night of a feast to celebrate your twin’s success in garnering alliances for the Blacks. Hearing news of Jace’s endeavors warms your heart, the news that he remains safe and out of harms way, away from the vengeful wrath of your uncles.

Tonight, it is a full moon. And despite the feasting and celebration, there is a heaviness in the air. At least there is when your gaze meets Cregan’s from across the table. You aren’t a fool. You know he desires you. Just as you desire him. But tonight, it seems to go beyond that. Those gray Stark eyes are filled with something deeper than lust when he looks at you.

This is no mere man. This is a wolf and his only desire is to devour you whole.

After the feasting is done, you wander out to the Godswood, sitting on a bench in front of the Heart Tree, in hopes that he follows you. And like a moth to the flame, he does. He comes and gives you a low bow, taking a seat beside you.

“My princess,” his voice is a low rumble in your ear that sends a thrill up your spine, “I am glad you are finding Winterfell to your liking.”

You nod, moving to sit even closer to him, not really giving a damn about the danger to your reputation. There is something so intoxicating about his presence. Ever since you came to Winterfell, any moment you have spent not in his company has felt downright torturous.

“I certainly am, Lord Stark, your home is beautiful,” you give him what you hope is a normal enough smile that doesn’t betray your absolutely depraved thoughts about the man standing next to you.

“Princess, how many times must I ask you to call me Cregan?” he gives you what you might have thought to be a soft smile, if you didn’t see the dangerous gleam in his eyes.

“As many times as it takes for you to remember to call me by my name, Lord Stark,” you retort.

Cregan chuckles, his eyes traveling the expanse of your body, taking in your form-fitting dress, “Might I say, Princess, that you look absolutely ravishing tonight.”

A lesser woman would be terrified, sitting in the company of a man who is so imposing, with that much hunger in his gaze. But you? You are a dragon. You’re quite sure your eyes must betray your intentions as well. And so you smile and take his extended arm.

“You are very kind, Cregan.”

Cregan has to hold himself back from pushing you down against the stone bench and taking you right then and there at the mere sound of you speaking his name. Just a little longer, he thinks to himself, Just a little bit longer.

“Walk with me, Princess?” he asks, standing up and extending a hand to you.

When you smile and stand to take his hand, he can’t help but think how much smaller your hand is than his. How different it would feel to have the smooth, soft skin of your hand running up and down the length of his cock. His mouth nearly waters at the thought, but he’s soon snapped back to reality when you break the silence between the two of you as you stroll through the Godswood.

“You’re quite tall, you know,” the words sound stupid coming out of your mouth the moment you say them.

Cregan gives you a smile you can only describe as one a starved predator may give before advancing on its prey, “Yes, it’s a trait with us Northerners. Though, it certainly has its advantages.”

“I can imagine,” you laugh, squeezing his hand gently.

His breath catches in his throat at the feeling. No one has ever made him feel this… Out of control before. No one can drive him as crazy as you do. The two of you walk for a while longer, under the light of the full moon. Then, you let go of his hand, disappointing him for but a minute, to go lean against one of the trees.

“It’s a beautiful night,” you comment, turning your eyes to the sky.

Cregan stares at you unabashedly, because in this moment, you look like some fallen deity come to earth. The moonlight illuminates your skin in a way that makes you look almost ethereal. He takes a deep breath and takes his first step. He stands directly in front of you, towering over you, as he rests one hand on the tree behind you, effectively caging you in.

He moves his other hand to hold your chin, running his thumb across your bottom lip, admiring how soft it feels against his skin, “You’re beautiful. You know that?”

You gaze up at him, “Thank you, Lord Stark. You aren’t so bad to look at yourself.”

His laugh isn’t really a laugh. It’s more of a bark of laughter. Something like a wolf howling. The way he gazes at you, with those hooded gray eyes, makes you wonder…

Does the honorable Lord Stark intend to let his inner wolf run free tonight? Seven hells, you hope so.

For his part, Cregan wants it noted for posterity that he really has tried everything not to turn into a wild beast tonight. He tried to keep a respectable distance, which didn’t go according to plan. He tried not to stare at how the curves of your body were perfectly accentuated by your dress, but failed miserably. He tried not to let out a low growl of appreciation when he felt the bare skin of your hand touch his.

And now, with you leaning against a tree in the Godswood, not a soul in sight save for the two of you…

He wonders just how far you’re willing to indulge his… Animal instinct.

“What are your thoughts on the alliance my mother proposed?” you ask curiously.

Cregan can’t stop the smile from spreading across his face at the fact that you’re the one who brought up the subject first, “I find it to be an excellent idea. And you, Princess? I know you Southerners find us to be quite different.”

He moves his hand from your chin to run down your neck, caressing it. The further to the curve of your waist. Cregan pulls you flush up against him and smirks at the quiet yelp of surprise you let out.

“Are you alright, little one?” he smirks, “Are you too delicate for this Northerner?”

You scoff, “Cregan Stark, I am the blood of the dragon. The blood of Old Valyria. I assure you that I can handle anything you throw my way.”

“Oh, can you?” Cregan chuckles under his breath, leaning in toward you, his nose nearly brushing against yours as he whispers hoarsely, “Do you desire me, little dragon? Do you yearn for me the way I yearn for you?”

You look up at him through half-lidded eyes. Perhaps it’s the magic of the full moon or the spirits in the Godswood, but you don’t think you can resist this man much longer, nor your desire for him. The Starks value honor and honesty. So you admit it to him.

“Yes, my lord, I do desire you,” you murmur, biting your lower lip.

His eyes follow your actions and he shakes his head, “No, little dragon,” he gently presses his thumb against your lower lip, making you stop the action, “Don’t bite that pretty lip. That’s my job now.”

And then his mouth descends upon yours. He tangles one hand in your hair as he presses your body up against the tree, using his other to hike one of your legs up onto his hip. His lips are chapped from the bitter cold of Winterfell, but the passion, the desire, the hunger with which he kisses you makes you forget that entirely. He tugs on your hair, making you moan into his mouth.

His voice is gravelly with desire as he speaks, angling your face so you meet his stormy gray eyes, “Do you fear me, little dragon? Do you fear your wolf?”

“Dragons have nothing to fear from wolves, my lord,” you tease.

He peppers kisses along your jawline, down to your neck, where he nips at your sensitive skin, “But what if this wolf were to bite?”

“I think you’re all bark and no bite,” you goad him on, running a hand through his hair, “All talk and no-”

You let out an audible gasp when he bites down on the junction between your neck and shoulder, leaving what is sure to be a sizable bite mark. He laves attention on the mark with his tongue and lips, soothing you after that brief moment of both pleasure and pain.

“You’ve been claimed by a wolf, little dragon,” Cregan presses a kiss to the hollow of your throat, “How do you feel about that?”

“I’d hardly call a little nip from a wolf pup claiming,” you retort.

He pulls back and gives you a devious grin, “Oh? How would you suggest I claim my pretty dragon then?”

You give him a coy grin in return and speak, lowering your voice, “Why, by hunting me down in these woods and claiming me properly.”

His pupils are blown so wide you can hardly see the gray of his eyes. His lips pull back in something halfway between a snarl and a smile.

“You wish me to hunt you, Princess?” he grips your jaw in one of admittedly large hands, “I’ll hunt you down and claim what is mine if that is what you desire.”

“It is,” you whisper.

He nods, his body almost trembling with excitement, “I shall give you a head start then, my sweet princess. You’d best get to running and hiding. I know these woods like the back of my hand. Wherever you go, I promise you, I will find you.”

You step away from the tree and give him a cheeky smile before darting off deeper into the woods as he counts to twenty. You can hear his low baritone, almost taunting you as he calls out the numbers. You continue running, your cheeks flushing from excitement and exertion all at once.

Then, he reaches the number twenty and he begins chasing after you. You hear his footsteps and break into a sprint, dodging branches and jumping over tree roots. The chase is exhilarating for him and you both.

Cregan watches as your figure weaves between the trees. He licks his lips. He can almost taste you on his tongue as he chases after you. Just barely out of his reach.

You duck behind a tree, watching him run past, holding back a laugh at having so easily bested him. But you also feel slightly disappointed that now he won’t find you and thereby won’t claim you as he said he would. You step back out only to be shoved up against the very tree you hid behind.

“Found you,” he growls before his mouth descends on yours again.

You wrap yourself around him, wanting to feel him as close to you as you possibly can. Your hands are in his hair, legs wrapped against his wait as you grind yourself against him, craving whatever friction he can provide. He sets you down for a moment.

“Get that fucking dress off, little dragon.”

It’s not a request, it’s a command. And one you’re happy to oblige. Your fingers shake as you begin to undo the bodice of your dress. But apparently, you’re going a bit too slow for his liking. He lets out a quiet snarl, pushes your hands away, and rips the bodice of your dress in half. You stare up at him in shock.

“I…”

He quickly tears the rest of the dress off of you, leaving you in only your small clothes. He makes quick work of your shift, ripping that as well. You absently wonder how in the world you’re going to sneak back into the castle without any clothes. You’re now only in your underwear and corset.

“Never understood why people wear these,” Cregan’s breath is a low hiss when he tears the corset open, licking his lips when your breasts spill free.

Immediately, he’s pushing you down to the forest floor, his mouth on your neck, your breasts, anything he can test. He mouths at one of your nipples while his rough hand squeezes the other, making you whimper slightly.

“Fuck, Cregan…”

He pulls back slightly, tossing his cloak aside and making quick work of his own clothes. Before you know it, he’s standing in front of you, bare. The sight of his already hard, weeping cock makes you rub your thighs together in anticipation. He leans back over you again, his body more than covering yours. His hand moves to stroke you between your legs. He chuckles darkly.

“It seems you won’t need much preparing, little dragon. You’re already soaked for me.”

And with one thrust, he sheathes all of himself inside of you. You let out a choked gasp, surprised at just how good he feels inside of you. He fills you so completely that you wonder why you even bothered trying to resist this feeling for so long.

“When I get started,” he breathes sharply, “I’m not going to stop. Do you want this?”

You nod.

He shakes his head, gripping your chin in his hand, “I need you to speak plainly, my love. Do you want this?”

“Yes, Cregan.”

He gives you a devilish grin and picks up your legs, wrapping them around him as he begins pounding into you without abandon. You bury your face in his neck, mewling little whines that sound vaguely like his name. But your thoughts are incoherent. All you can think of his long, thick cock that’s filling you up so perfectly, driving deeper and deeper into you with every powerful thrust.

He hits a certain spot inside of you that makes you arch your back up off the ground and let out a loud squeal of his name, “Fuck, Cregan, yes, right there!”

He nips at your throat and continues fucking into you harder. He feels you squeezing around him tighter and tighter with every movement, your warm wet walls gripping him like a vice to the point where he thinks he can barely move until he feels your arousal coat his cock. He glances up to meet your eyes and grins, picking you up off the ground and shoving you against the tree, fucking into you with a renewed vigor. It’s almost too much for you as you babble incoherently, begging him to go harder, faster, as he continues his efforts.

You feel him spill his seed inside you, coating your walls as you reach your peak for the second time that night. His lips meet yours in a lazier, less hungry but just as passionate kiss.

“I love you,” he murmurs into your ear, “And I want you to be my wife. To bear my children. To be the one I share my life with.”

“I want that too,” you whisper back as you feel him grow hard against your leg, “Seven hells, Cregan, you are insatiable.”

He kisses you and turns you around so your bare chest is pressed against the tree. He leans forward to kiss your neck before whispering in your ear.

“You’ve set this insatiable wolf free, my dragon. You have no one to blame but yourself.”

You let out a loud moan of his name as he takes you from behind, the angle feeling different but just as pleasurable as both ways he took you before.

“I’m going to spill my seed inside you again,” he growls into your ear as he fucks into you, “Watch your belly swell with my babe.”

“Yes, fuck, Cregan,” you whine as he squeezes the flesh of your ass, pulling out and slamming himself back into you.

When the two of you have finally become so exhausted that you simply must sleep, Cregan wraps his cloak around you and carries you back to the castle. You’re half asleep, simply gazing up at him, while he smiles down at you.

He takes you to his chambers and has a warm bath drawn for you.

Then, his maester comes to him.

A visitor has just arrived and wishes to speak with both Cregan and you.

Prince Jacaerys is in Winterfell.

part of the program [bakugo x reader]

summary: katsuki comes home after a long day, finds open wine, and the destruction you've unleashed on the house.

warnings: aged up!bakugo, mentions of being wine drunk, bit of manhandling and ass slapping, 15+ to be safe, reader is gender-neutral for anyone to read!!

wc: like 600, maybe? idk

there was still sweat lingering on his skin as he shucked away the layers of his hero uniform, leaving it all in a single pile near the doorway until he could shower away the balmy summer evening, and the aftermath of an explosive bank robbery that left some parts of his arms and chest nicked, chaffed, bruised, and covered in debris.

he was immediately cautious when you didn't greet him by the door, despite an unanswered phone call and unread text sent an hour previous to let you know he was on his way, and not to cook. no delectable aromas wafted from the kitchen, nor an equally as oppressive heat from the electric stove top; nothing sat out on the counter for him in a huge heap, either.

what he did find was a pretty, long-necked bottle of uncorked merlot sitting undisturbed but almost empty. the clear glass magnified a trace amount of near red-black liquid that hadn't quite made it into a vessel. he didn't like how it looked like garbage on the otherwise barren, stone surface, and dropped it into the garbage on his way through to the next room.

"what the hell are you doing?" katsuki phrased this to you mostly from the fact that you hadn't replied to his message earlier, but now also that the floor was a treacherous maze of book stacks, and you stood amid that chaos with the stem of a wine glass in your hand while staring contemplatively at the bare bookcase. "this is what you've been ignoring me all evening to do? you drank our anniversary wine!"

you swiveled with a finger hiked towards him, like a parent about to chastise their child: "absolutely did not drink our anniversary wine, how dare you! it's still in the, uh... the, uh.... uh, the thing. you know, it keeps all the wine."

"right," he murmured, careful not to let his mass bump into any of the books as he navigated through to you. "did you drink that entire bottle?"

"maybe." you said with a coy, secretive smile, somehow managing to come across as mostly coherent and focused. he didn't miss the subtle way in which you head tilted and knees swayed occasionally, though. "I saw a program earlier; it was about how to keep your home tidy and how to reorganize it to make sense. I thought, "wow, that bookcase is always an eyesore, I should do that first. so, here we are!"

he could feel the itch of agitation climbing up the back of his neck and into his jaw. the dentist had told him not too long ago not to clench his teeth so much, so he tried paying mind to that while smoothing a calloused hand across the planes of his face. "there was nothing wrong with the bookcase, babe. I alphabetized it based on author to make it easier to find."

"I don't like that," you rebuffed with a noisy, nasally exhale. "I don't remember the authors! I remember the title of the book, so I'm gonna alphabetize it based off of that."

his shoulders slumped forward in forced defeat as his head bent back towards the floor. you weren't going to have it any other way, and god was your stubbornness as fucking annoying as it was sexy. couldn't say he was in the mood for it right now, though.

"you're not gonna do any of this right now. c'mon." he gruffed, narrowing the divide between your bodies until he had plucked the wine glass from your hand, braced his shoulder into your waist and picked you up. "time to put it to sleep for the night. you're supposed to be paying attention to your husband right now, remember?"

"you're such a bully, katsuki! I want a divorce! divorce! divorce!" you whined, shifting your weight around on his shoulder as his hand went higher on your thighs.

"we're not getting a divorce. I told you you're stuck with me until we're in the fucking ground." he replied in firm tone that almost felt appropriately serious, until the entire palm of his hand landed a rather sharp slap on your ass, making you howl and burst into laughter. "I'm not goin' anywhere, even though you do weird shit like this."

"what are we gonna do now?" you had relented to hanging off of him like an adornment. "I think I'm gonna puke."

"we're gonna take an ice-cold, freezing shower before anything else can happen."

----

a/n: part of the little challenge im doing to get back into writing. if yall liked, please support creators by reblogging or commenting on their stuff!!

Whipped Like A Motherfu- (Older!Damian Wayne x Reader)

Description: The boys never thought it was possible for their youngest brother to have a soft spot for a woman. Or a soft spot in general. So how will they react when they witness their brother being lovey-dovey first-hand?

This was requested by @beatriceshadowmarvel2 so enjoy!!!

The only warning I got for this is that it has explicit language.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Damian could be hot-headed. And very irritable. Also not to mention annoying at times. Overall he was a complete dick to almost everyone around him. Keyword: Almost. There was one person he would never and could never show any harsh emotions towards. The love of his life, the one he'd die for, the one he'd kill for. You.

The two of you had met during an attempted robbery. But not in the way one would probably assume. It was Damian who was getting robbed, not you. For obvious reasons, Damian could handle himself in these situations. But also for obvious reasons, Damian is the one who usually initiates the attack. It's been a while since he's been jumped out of nowhere. So he was a bit rusty on his reflexes.

You, on the other, had grown up on the rough side of Gotham so you had gotten a headstart on having your reflexes in tip-top shape. At the time of the incident, you had a fresh can of mace. You were walking past when you noticed the man get struck on the back of the head and were taken aback by surprise. On instinct, you reached into your purse and whipped out the black can. Then the rest was history.

That was approximately two years, six months, five weeks, and twenty-two days ago. It was that long ago since Damian realized that he could never love and long someone as much as he did you. But somehow, after all this time, you're finally meeting the infamous Wayne. His family.

And he was not excited.

"Of course, I'm not going to be excited, sweetheart. You didn't have to live with them for eight years of your life and for another two, having to meet up with them for every fucking holiday to exist." Damian scowled as you flipped his eggs onto a plate. He had just entered the kitchen and sat down at the bar of your shared apartment.

You turned around, one hand on your hip and the other lying his plate in front of him.

"C'mon Dami. They can't be that bad if you didn't run away." You offered, running your hands through your boyfriend's messy hair. He picked up his black coffee and muttered:

"Trust me. I tried."

You sighed and kissed his cheek, his freshly shaved jaw still having shaving cream in random areas of his face. "Did your father ever teach you how to shave?" You chuckled, wiping a smidge of cream off his face. You walked out of the kitchen and stood next to him, silently urging him to eat.

He grumbled something Arabic before grabbing your hips and pulling you down to his level. He started rubbing his cheek against yours, which usually you would be fine with. If shaving cream still wasn't on Damian's face.

"Damian! I was finally ready to go and now my makeup is ruined! I think you got some on my sweater, too!" You whined as he let out a laugh. He pulled away and stared into your eyes, his hands on both sides of your face. His green eyes kept observing each little feature you had on your face. The confused posture on your lips. The twitch of your nose as words came out of your mouth but he could only focus on your face.

"You don't need makeup, my love. You don't need anything to change how you look. You're already the most beautiful thing to bless this Earth." Damian said mindlessly, staring into your eyes.

You chuckled, confused about what made Damian come to those words or thoughts. "I'm not too sure what you mean by that, Dami. But I love you as well.". You stood up to your full height and tried removing the shaving cream from your sweater. "But not as much as I love looking presentable for your family so they don't think I'm a South Side junkie." You announced while walking back to your bedroom.

After your little situation was fixed, the two of you left the penthouse and started your thirty-minute journey to Wayne Manor. The drive gave you time to publicise your concerns.

"Dami, what if they think I'm not good enough for you? Or what if they think I'm using you for money? It doesn't help that I'm from the poorest side of Gotham and possibly the entire fucking country. Should I swear in front of them? I know they're all guys and probably swear worse than me but they-" Your rambling was cut off when your boyfriend kissed you right on the lips.

"Damian! You're driving, from the last time I checked. That's how people crash and die from a cell stroke or something." You reprimanded. Damian only chuckled and removed his hand from the wheel of his favorite Corvette.

"One: This is the car that was partnered with Wayne Enterprises to create the first self-driving sports car. It was in Hands-Off mode, sweetheart. Two: You can't die from a cell stroke because there is no such thing. Three: They'll love you I promise. Because if they don't, I can guarantee they will die a slow and pai-".

"That's enough, love. I'll stick to them not liking me." You compromised, knowing it was the best option as you were aware of Damian's threats becoming a reality.

"That's the thing, Y/n. There shouldn't be a reason for them not to like you. You're beautiful, both book and street smart, and the kindest person to ever walk this Earth." Damian was about to continue his rant about how much you were worth when he noticed he was already parked outside the place he too wasn't sure how to feel about.

A part of him wanted to walk in and reminisce on the memories of his youth. The other part of him wanted to drive his car into the side of the house (without you in it, of course), put it in self-destruct mode, and blow the house into pieces.

"I'm gonna fucking kill myself." Damian groaned as he put the car in park. You glanced at him as his face contorted into one of horror as he stared at the now wide-open door.

Four grown men walked out of the door, a prideful aura radiating off them. Damian's eye twitched as he swung the car door open and flicked them off before they even got the chance to utter a word to him. He made his way to your side of the car and opened the door for you.

He reached his hand out to you and helped you out of the car. You readjusted your skirt and reassess your outfit choice.

'Does this make me look like a hooker?' You wondered to yourself as the group approached your boyfriend and yourself.

"Wow. Little demon managed to find a girl that will put up with his attitude. And he... opened the door for her?" The one who you knew was Dick Grayson and your boyfriend's oldest brother. Only because he was on the best terms with Damian that he actually talked about him. But not in the brotherly way people would consider.

"Fucking Grayson. He's always showing off."

"Dick? Just assume the name comes with the job"

"I will not talk to him. Just because he's my brother and helped me out when I was younger doesn't mean I forgot he threw up all over me when he got shitfaced the last time I saw him."

"Guys, don't tell me the spawn of Satan himself actually learned manners and pulled a good-looking chick. I think I'm gonna cry." The one next to Dick wiped fake tears from his eyes. Damian's scowl deepened.

"Here's an idea, Jason. Go fuck yourself." Damian retorted. The new speaker, Jason, rolled his eyes and chuckled. He was the first to approach you formally and stuck his hand out.

"Hey, I'm Jason, Damian's older, hotter, and smarter brother so if he fucks up, you know where to find me," Jason smirked while you shook his hand.

"I'm Y/n. I would gladly take your offer if I didn't know Damian would never fuck up." You replied back, silently wincing at your use of vulgar language.

But instead of sneering at you or commenting your foul language was 'unladylike', Jason howled in laughter and shrugged.

"Offer still stands. Your accent. You grow up on South Side?" He asked, crossing his arms after you dropped his hand. You nervously glanced at Damian, who nodded in affirmation.

"Yep. Born and raised. How'd you figure it out? I'm usually pretty good at hiding it. That and I don't go around at night, begging for a cigarette and three cents in change."

"I'm from there too. At least before Buck-for-Fuck here adopted me. Grew up on Crack row or whatever it's called by the rich." Jason shifted his gaze to his brother. "You got a good one, Demon. You already know how we turn out." He gestured to himself with up and down hand motions.

"It's a good thing she got out before you, then."

"Fuck you, man."

Jason whimpered in fake pain before being shoved out of the way by Dick and the other brother. Dick introduced himself to you in a very formal way, starting it off by kissing your hands.

Damian did not take it well. He pushed Dick's cheek away from your knuckles. "At least ask her first. Don't you have any self-dignity?" Dick frowned but backed off nonetheless. "My bad, little man. I-", the first thing you've picked up from this family is they don't seem to let each other finish as you watched Dick get shoved by his father, who was clearly embarrassed.

You didn't need an introduction from Bruce motherfucking Wayne. 1. He owns the biggest technology company in the world. 2: It's Bruce Wayne. He's probably the one person on the planet who doesn't need to introduce himself. And he knew that too.

But he introduced himself anyways.

"Hello, Y/n. I'm Damian's father, Bruce. I've heard a lot of things about you." Bruce held his hand out as you shook it respectfully. You glanced at Damian, who scoffed at his father.

"All good things I hope, Mr Wayne." Bruce grimaced when you spoke. "Please call me Bruce, dear. Mr Wayne makes me feel as if I was alive when the Civil War was still being considered." Jason snickered before saying, "You probably were. You'd think with the amount of money you earn, you could afford getting rid of those crow's feet." Damian rolled his eyes at his family's antics before pointing at the last brother that wasn't introduced.

"The emo one who hasn't said a word is Tim. He's a bit odd and stays in his room jacking off or playing with Father's computers." Damian wrapped an arm around you as he explained his brother's habits. Tim's face became stoic as Damian shrugged.

"I hope all your stocks drop completely," Tim grumbled, brushing the hair out of his eyes. Damian's eyes narrowed and he opened his mouth to send a comeback towards his brother before Bruce chuckled nervously.

"Why don't we all go inside and catch up? Also so we don't embarrass ourselves even more in front of Y/n." The boys seemed to all agree and Damian and yourself followed the rest of the family inside.

After settling down inside the manor's living room, Bruce poured you a cup of tea and sat down in between Jason and Dick, Tim sat on the floor, and Damian and yourself sat on the couch.

"So Y/n. Tell us more about yourself. You didn't seem to have any time to do to certain people in the family. You said you were from South Side, right?" Jason clapped his hands and hollered. Bruce gave him a nasty side-eye while Dick slapped his chest.

"I think the more important question is... how the fuck someone like Damian ended up with a sweet little angel like yourself," Tim spoke while drinking something that obviously wasn't tea. Your boyfriend's frown deepened.

"I wouldn't call her a little angel, Timmy. We met because she maced a guy trying to rob me." Jason jumped out of his seat and started a handshake that was created for South Siders to identify each other with. Surprisingly, you still remember the whole thing.

"That's what I'm fucking talking about! You make everyone who still lives in Shitville proud!" Damian pushed Jason back into his seat before pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Please refrain from tainting her with your filthy hands." Damian had little spurts where he would switch from casually talking to someone to as if he was talking to the president. Of course, Jason had a knack for making fun of it.

"My dearest apologies, my lord. May I offer my condolences for my idiotic acts?" Jason bowed from his seat.

"Okay, we can try this again. Please don't fucking touch her with your nasty ass hands that we all know you 'forget' to wash. The next time any one of you touches her without her permission, I'll be sure the Lazarus pit can't bring you back to life." Damian snapped. It suddenly became quiet despite the conversation being between two people.

Although it was only two sentences, it was enough to leave the family of undercover heroes speechless. Not about the fact that the youngest member snapped at them. No, they've gotten used to that.

It's the fact he snapped at them over a girl, let alone anyone else in general.

Jason's jaw was slacked and his eyes were wide in surprise. Tim had lost all his secret stash of alcohol as he not only spit out the liquor in his mouth but his water bottle dropped onto the shiny floors. Dick's face was stoic as he processed the fact that his baby brother could actually care about someone as much as he cared about himself. Maybe more.

Bruce's expression was possibly the hardest not to laugh at. His eyes were wide, an eyebrow was arched, and overall just looked weirded out.

Damian groaned in irritation and his fingers twitched in annoyance. He tapped your thigh a few times and stood up with your hand in his. "We're gonna head to my room and sleep off the bullshit from today. Don't bother us." Damian dragged you along like a lost puppy up one of the many staircases throughout the mansion and disappeared behind the thick walls of the hall. Not before hearing:

"Use protection, please! We don't need any more demon spawns running around when we have Damian and Jason!" "Fuck you, Bruce!"

Bonus:

You laid on Damian's bare chest, his pecs acting like a pillow for your head. Your legs intertwined with his and your hands were in the pockets of his black sweatpants.

You were fast asleep, the warmth from his upper body acting as a sedative for comfort. But Damian wasn't asleep. He couldn't fall asleep. Not while admiring the beautiful soul on his chest.

He ran his calloused fingers through your hair, dismissing the tangles in your hair by prying his fingers apart at the ends of each strand. He knew you'd be pissed about the sudden frizziness when you woke up but he didn't care. Not when he'd at least hear your voice.

"Words cannot describe how much I love you, Y/n. You saved me more than the day we met with your can of mace. You changed me and I will always be grateful for your love and affection towards someone like me." He whispered into your ear. He kept whispering poetic words into your sleeping ears. He suddenly stopped when he heard a creak from the corner of the room.

His vision sharpened to see into the darkness of his old room and immediately reached over to his nightstand and switched his lamp on. It illuminated the room just enough to see his family in the corner of his room, recording the scene in front of them.

Damian wrapped his arms around your waist and gave the nastiest glare possible towards the boys. Tim was about to say something, maybe lighten up the approaching argument but Damian brought a finger up to his pursed lips.

"If you wake her up, I will play tic-tac-toe on your throats with my katana." He blankly threatened.

Dick realized there wasn't any bluffing behind his brother's threat, as he had doubted threats from Damian before and that's how he ended up with thumbtacks in his ass and tried to escape the impending doom.

Jason, on the other hand, wanted to see the world burn and tripped his older brother, causing him to trip and eat shit. A thud echoed throughout the room, causing you to stir in your sleep.

"Dami? What was that?" A dagger was whipped out of the nightstand and held by Damian in a way with the intent to throw it at an unsuspecting victim. "Nothing, sweetheart. Just go back to sleep, okay beautiful?" You drifted back to sleep as if under a spell, your hands now on his defined chest.

There was a brief moment of silence that gave Damian time to admire the love of his life. That was until Jason decided to open his mouth.

"Dude, you're whipped like a motherfu-"

A knife flew across the room and landed right next to Jason's head.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This is the first thing I've written in almost a year so lmk if it's ass or gas. BUT KEEP SENDING IN REQUESTS I LOVE HEARING OTHER PEOPLE'S IDEAS!!!

The Little Merman -D.G. Part One

Warnings: fluff, angst, magic, arguing between family, language, arranged marriage.

Masterlist

Pairing: Merman! Dick Grayson x Reader

Word Count: 3.8K

A/N: Hello! I hope you all enjoy this! I’ve been working away at it for several months now, not to mention how long I’ve been marinating this in my head. Big thanks to @offendedfishnoises​ for helping me and being my beta for everything. I hope you know how much I appreciate it. 

Dick was a good kid, he swears. He always came home on time, his teachers had little to no complaints about him, and was even a model prince for his brothers and sisters. Bruce, the king of the undersea world was proud to call Dick his son, taking him in after his parents perished in a tragic fishing accident.

The only thing that would be questionable about the crown prince, Richard Grayson, is that he was as Alfred liked to say, spirited. Dick wanted to explore, he wanted to live his life before he was tied down never to experience new things again before he was to take over for Bruce. 

Keep reading

"𝐸𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝐼 𝑤𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑖𝑠 𝑓𝑙𝑢𝑓𝑓 𝑏𝑒𝑐𝑎𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡'𝑠 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝐼 𝑛𝑒𝑒𝑑." - 𝑚𝑒, 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦 𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑙𝑒 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒 𝑖 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑖𝑠ℎ 𝑎 𝑑𝑟𝑎𝑓𝑡

✨𝙽𝙰𝚅𝙸𝙶𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽✨

🥀 = 𝔞𝔫𝔤𝔰𝔱𝔶(𝔦𝔰𝔥)

🌟 = 𝔣𝔢𝔪!𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯

🇵🇭 = 𝔣𝔦𝔩𝔦𝔭𝔦𝔫𝔬 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯

🦋= 𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔡𝔢𝔯 𝔫𝔢𝔲𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔩 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯

~ 𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 🦋 🇵🇭

you don’t like valentine’s day. peter parker changes that. (friends to lovers)

~ 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 🦋🥀

you burn out but peter is always there to catch you. (established relationship)

~ 𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 🌟 (part I)

benedict bridgerton had been the age of seven the day he met y/n l/n. seven hours later, he declared her his bride. (kid fic)

~ 𝐟𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧 🌟 (part II)

During the summer of her fifteenth year, Y/n L/n realizes the nature of her affections for her best friend Benedict Bridgerton. All the while, the Bridgerton family continually grows exasperated with the pair’s stolen glances and longing stares. 

~ 22 🌟🥀 (part III)

Two Scoops (and a Danish) // J. Todd x f!reader

Requested? Yes!

WARNINGS: minor physical altercation with a customer, retail (lol), fear gas, mention of the Joker, brief reference to attempted self harm while under fear toxin, swearing Summary: Part two to this.

Despite it being four in the morning, you were already in the kitchen when the familiar sound of your window being opened came from the living room. Tossing the rag in your hands onto the counter, you planted your hands on your hips and gave the kitchen a once over.

“Any injuries?” you called.

“No,” Red Hood replied. You nodded to yourself and snatched two cartons of ice cream out of the freezer. Grabbing two spoons, you balanced the ice cream in your arms as you walked to the living room to find Red Hood sprawled out on your couch. 

He had already changed into sweats and a comfy shirt, but he left his domino mask on. You could see his leather jacket and gear propped up next to the bookshelf in the corner of his room and you appreciated the fact that he didn’t want to dirty up your couch.

Keep reading

Two Scoops // J. Todd x gn!reader

Requested? Yes!

WARNINGS: swearing, gun violence, food

Summary: The infamous vigilante of Gotham, Red Hood, comes walking into your work one night, slaps down a twenty, and asks for the most disgusting combination of flavors you can possibly make. He keeps coming back.

Part two here

The first night should be revelatory. It should be the thing that jump starts your moving process and gets you to look at Indeed for the first time in months. If it were any other city, you would turn in your apron and that stupid fucking visor you had to wear and move out of this godforsaken shithole.

But this is Gotham and you really aren’t that surprised.

The artificial buzzing of the fluorescent lights of Creamy’s Ice Cream was nearly drowned out by the sheer artistic talent of Carly Rae Jepsen. You don’t know why Creamy’s was open until two in the morning but, again, this is Gotham. Potheads, drunken college students, and tearful twenty year olds ensnared by the hells of capitalism needed a sugary pick-me-up in the wee hours, you supposed. It was a decent paying job for part time and the late hours weren’t as packed as earlier in the day.

But it did come with certain drawbacks. Heading home late at night was the biggest one, but crime seemed to be on a steady decline with the presence of the various vigilantes.

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Kryptonians and French Tarts // J. Todd x gn!reader

Requested? Yes! @afrolatinosuperfam​

WARNINGS: mentions of injuries but nothing detailed

Summary: After being injured in a fight, you go to Wayne Manor to get some help watching Jon for the night. Luckily, a certain vigilante is also benched at home.

“Okay, you’re going to behave, right? No destroying priceless art. No antagonizing anyone. Respect Mr. Pennyworth,” your mother dictated as she led the procession of your family towards the towering manor before you.

“Yeah, yeah.” You adjusted your little brother on your hip and flashed your mom an innocent smile. “No letting Jon turn into Jack Jack from the Incredibles.”

Your mom let out a quiet “you’re going to be the death of me” as she climbed the stairs to the front door. It swung open before she could knock, revealing Mr. Pennyworth.

“Miss Lane, Mx. Y/N, young Mister Jon,” he greeted. “I trust the drive from Metropolis went well.”

Keep reading

Auburn Traditions (Damian Wayne x Reader)

summary: After your wedding, Damian spends the night finding his name in your bridal henna. In the safety of your presence, he can share his true feelings to you. word count: 1,550~ warnings: none Special thanks to @quillsareswords for bouncing ideas around until this fic was born. I am soft for this man. This is the mushiest thing I've written in so long. Literally kicking my feet writing this.

It came as no surprise when Damian popped the question. 

You two flourished beside each other, growing individually in the comfort of each other’s embrace. For years you stood beside Damian. Through high school you helped him study every exam season, said quick greetings in the halls, and even helped him find all his classes his first year. In college you motivated him through finals, went to every pesky orientation, and cheered the loudest when he walked across the stage one final time. 

Almost in tandem, Damian returned the favor. He asked you to Prom your senior year, holding up a shy bouquet of flowers and a corsage. He attended every performance of yours, big or small, because the mere presence of him was more support than you could ever wish for. Damian dragged you to bed on long nights and held you through so many tough ones, never letting go through it all. 

You moved out together years later after you found the perfect forever home and finally made it yours. The walls were painted deep into the night, muted tones swiped onto his nose only for him to fling it back at you. Together, Christmas lights were hung across the house year after year as you danced to the upbeat tunes in your own living room while the fireplace warms you up after a long day in the snow. 

So when Damian kneeled before you, his heart pouring out of his chest as he spoke words of reflection and his own green eyes shining with affection, you had to say yes. A year of bliss with Damian Wayne, your fiancé, soon to be husband. You carved out a section of this chaotic world and made it your own, a section full of adoration and unwavering love. 

The wedding night was one to remember. It was an extravagant night filled with family, music, and laughter. Damian couldn’t keep his eyes off his bride for very long, far too many of the wedding photos showed Damian’s soft gaze towards you. 

Your vows were heartfelt and private, opting to say your true feelings in the comfort of each other and no one more. Damian Wayne, the man of very few words, had the most poetic words fall from his lips that day. Damian Wayne, the man with ironclad emotions, cried in front of you when the vows continued forward—not that he’d ever admit that, but you knew. 

So here you were, the wedding night bliss still radiating off of you as you sat in front of Damian—your husband—on your shared bed. Your outfits were hung up ages ago, torn off the second you could and changed into something more cozy with softer fabrics and looser seams. Bobby pins were scattered across the bathroom sink as you let your hair rest. Damian’s own hair was ruffled, the gel long since worn off. 

Neither of you minded, no amount of makeup or luxurious outfits could make Damian fall for you any harder than he already has. 

“You’re really intent on finding it,” you commented playfully, your voice dipped into softer volume. Your hands rested in his, decorated in vibrant amber. Delicate florals weaved their way across your fingertips and palms, vines twirled across the negative space until their leaves grew on your hands. Mother Earth herself had kissed your hands and let her beauty flow across your skin—her own blessing to the marriage. 

Henna: a tradition that was nothing short of mesmerizing. You remembered the day Damian asked for this, a small portion of his heritage incorporated into the best night of his life. And of course, you said yes, accepting every part of him happily. 

His hands traced along the arabic style that seeped into your skin, spaced out leaves and florals that left a gorgeous amount of free space to show off your own beautiful skin. It wasn’t nearly as intricate as Mehndi, for this style of henna focused on the palms to bring in love and cherish memories. But every dot on your skin was as fascinating as the one before it, carefully placed into a beautiful design. 

“Of course,” Damian responded, his gaze incredibly focused on the detailed pattern on your hands. He flipped over your hands to look at the top. “The fate of the marriage rests on this moment.” 

You snorted, “You just don’t want to admit that I’m the dominant one in the relationship.” 

Damian tsked, “You wish.” 

“Well,” you looked over at the clock, “you have five minutes before that superstition comes true. Better hurry up, bird boy.” 

“There’s no need to rush me, I will find it before the night is over.” 

You hummed in disbelief, a playful tone falling from your lips. The room fell to comfortable silence once more, the only sound was the soft breathing that landed onto the tips of your fingers. 

His hands were so gentle as they touched yours, a faint warmth emitting from his own hands and transferring to yours. Even as he turned your hands this way and that, his fingertips traced along the design. The touch was feather-light, almost tickling the surface of your hand. 

He never touched with much pressure. Even though the dye was a deep rich color, beautifully stained on your hands and wrists, he didn’t dare to wear it thin. Talia herself told you every tradition as she crafted the henna on your hand, happy to play such a significant role in her son's marriage—and welcoming you to the family? She was overjoyed to receive that call. 

So when your henna turned into a darker tone overnight, you immediately knew the deep connection between you and Damian was gorgeously on display. The color signified more than just love and an unwavering bond, but it also represented your place beside your new family, and the love you will surely receive from them. 

“You look beautiful with this on, Zawjati,” he spoke just barely above a whisper, as if the amber design had Damian mesmerized. The words fell from his lips absent-mindedly, a new term of endearment taking flight in an instant. The gesture meant more to him than he could ever explain, from the reconnection to understanding, all the way to acceptance, his heart was unbelievably full. 

You glanced up at him, your eyes met the softened gaze of a man so deeply in love, the rest of the word slipped away. That gaze conveyed more to you than any poetic vow. 

Your heart was equally as full. His simple wedding band was smooth against your fingers, the new shimmer of metal was vibrant against the tan of his skin. Your own traditions having melted into the wedding with the rings, a permanent symbol of the promise Damian made to you each and every day: to love and cherish you.

“That’s a new one,” you said, pushing past the breathless feeling in your lungs. 

He rolled your fingers in his and sparks flew up your chest just like the first day you met him, even after all these years. He hummed in question, his eyes scanning the patterns with deep concentration. 

“Zawjati,” you continued. “What does that one mean?”

Damian shifted slightly, not uncomfortably so, but as if his brain was mulling words around behind his eyes so his body swayed on instinct. “My wife.” 

The smile that broke across your face happened in an instant, a full gleam of happiness filled your body that you couldn’t possibly contain. “Oh?” you teased, as if the words didn’t burrow themselves in your chest to create blossoming trees, “I’ve upgraded now.”

The corner of his lip ticked upwards so slightly you wouldn’t have caught it if you weren’t staring. There was a tint of your lipstick stained on his lips that you didn’t notice before. His fingers toyed with yours, they slipped in between yours with a ticklish touch. 

“I’ve been wanting to call you that for years,” he said it so simply, like that profession didn’t take the air out of your lungs and make your heart flutter alongside it. 

“Years?” you breathed out, stunned by his words. You knew his love for you was profound, but to be looking forward to spending the rest of his life with you for years? Your head whirled from the whiplash. 

“Yes.” Just as simply as the words that came before. “My heart knew who it belonged to the second you entered my life. You were the only one who ever saw me for who I really was, not who I could become. You were the only one who made me look forward to living, not for the sake of saving lives to simply do it again the next day, but to keep coming home to you.”

“You make the future seem possible. You,” he breathed, “you make me want to be better, not because I have to, but because I truly want to. That is why I’ve always been more partial to the other translation of Zawjati.” 

The word rolled off his tongue and your heart danced. “And what’s that?”

His thumb swiped across your pulse point where his name was imprinted on your skin in subtle cursive, easily blending into a vine. He gently brought the point to his lips. 

“My better half.”

Taglist ♡

@anothertimdrakestan

@cherry-dropp

@missredrobin

Ohh for the bird brains event, how about a meet-cute with Damian at a Wayne gala/charity event? Reader could be on the wait staff or a party guest, whichever you prefer!

this turned out kinda weird BUT i’ma roll with it. i hope you like it babe!

𝓁𝑒𝓉’𝓈 𝒸𝓁𝑜𝓈𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝒹𝒾𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒 ⎹ 𝓓.𝓦.

fandom dc / masterlist coming soon / @dollsdc-library

featuring damian wayne x reader ( f! )

rating none of my work is meant to be viewed by minors (anyone under the age of eighteen), and i will happily block any that interact with my posts or my blog.

content warning Damian’s been aged up to about 19 in this, he’s a little rude and demanding, but no real warnings.

summary this was supposed to be an easy gig to make some extra cash, but you can’t help but notice Damian Wayne won’t stop staring at you.

word count 1.9k / mini musing

attention do not repost or translate, even with ‘credit’. just don’t do it. reblog instead of like. leave feedback if you enjoyed.

bird brains writing event !!

this had been a good idea in theory.

you’d always wondered what the Wayne Charity Galas were like— of course, you’d always imagined seeing them through the eyes of a guest, and not a waitress serving drinks to the sloshed socialites. still, when your roommate told you she’d gotten the job for the two of you, it had been hard to turn down. one of those opportunities that don’t just fall out of the sky for everyone, and the lucky ones must snag them whilst they can.

however, you underestimated just how much booze the .1% could consume in an evening. traipsing back and forth across the ballroom in a constant duck and weave routine to avoid twirling couples, you would get to one side of the party, only to find your tray of champagne completely barren, and would have to trounce back into the kitchen for more.

and, of course, there was the uniform. you felt like a penguin, clad in a black and white romper that was so tight to your body it was giving you a perpetual wedgie. the neckline felt gratuitous in its dip, as did the sleek, black pumps that were murdering your poor feet.

moreover, you could feel a pair of piercing eyes on you every time you made another round. he was posted near the corner, arms crossed and had been wearing the same scowl since you’d first walked in. you knew who he was because of course you did, but you couldn’t find the nerve to actually meet his gaze— keeping your eyes fixed at the flutes balanced on your crystalline tray, instead. why was he glaring so hard? did you really look so out of place? or maybe it was the sheer ridiculousness of your outfit that he was looking at with disdain. but, if that were the case, why did you feel his stare on your face, as if he were trying to catch your gaze? moments felt like hours as you prayed the remaining glasses would disappear faster so you might have a reason to escape to the back again, but it seemed like Lady Luck was having too much fun in watching you stand there, blushing like a fool, trying not to look like you knew he was staring at you.

you fix your eyes to the dance floor, crowded with gorgeous women in gaudy gowns and dazzling jewels and their dapper companions, twirling and dipping them. it was almost like something out of a fairytale, a royal ball where every man’s suit probably cost more than your dented, little Camry parked outside. for a moment, you try to imagine what it might be like to be there, instead of on the sidelines, serving drinks. was it fun? freeing?

“Do you even know how to ballroom dance?” it was a curt question that comes from your left, cutting through your daydream and pulling you back to reality.

it takes you a moment to realize Damian had stepped up beside you, but now that you were aware of his closeness, you couldn’t think of anything else. the warmth of his figure, the softness of his suit, and the hints of sandalwood and vanilla in his cologne. “Um… no, not really.” you replied, bashfully looking towards your feet, “Just what I’ve seen on, like, The Princess Diaries.” you tried to chuckle, to make a joke of it, but he didn’t reciprocate. your awkward laugh hangs in the otherwise silent air and you force yourself not to roll your own eyes. what a lame attempt. you clear your throat, looking at your nearly empty tray. three left. just three.

“Dance with me.”

three words that had you blinking incredulous, unsure if you’ve heard him properly as your attention is directed towards him. he’s staring at you again, eyebrow quirked, both arms folded over his chest and his clear eyes were narrowed. did he look this angry all the time?

“What?”

“I don’t like to repeat myself.”

blinking again, you zip your tiers for a moment, and that’s when his hand stretches out, palm up, practically commanding you to take it. and you want to, but your hands are full. “I— I’m working.” you offer, sheepish, just as the last flute is plucked from your tray. you’re supposed to rush back and get another round, so you hug the tray close to your chest.

“Clearly. But I didn’t ask, did I?”

“What if I… get in trouble?”

Damian’s gaze hardened, his fingers barely twitching. “You won’t.”

you look down at his hand, and then back up to his face, stoic and expecting you to accept, but you can’t bring yourself to abandon a wage and make a fool of yourself in front of Gotham’s Elite. “I’m really sorry, Mr. Wayne. But I need to… uh…” gesturing over your shoulder, you took a couple of steps back, bumping into a gentleman’s back and sputtering an apology before you turned and hurried towards your roommate. maybe you could walk back with her. she sees you coming, a partial smile forming on her face until she sees the tense expression on yours. you grasp her arm pulling yourself close to her whilst your footsteps fall into a rhythm with her own.

“Hey! Were you just talking to Damian Wayne?” she asks; she sounds starstruck at the mere prospect. “What did he say to you?”

you sighed, “He… asked me to dance with him.” you pause, before shaking your head. “Well, demanded I dance with him, actually.”

her countenance screws into bemusement, “And you didn’t?”

those three words made you feel ashamed; perhaps you should’ve. you frown, indignant, and gesture to the tray in your hands. “No, I’m a little busy, remember?”

“Yeah but, come on, you can’t just reject Damian Wayne.”

why not? you wanted to ask. what the hell made him so special, other than his family name, anyways? what gave him the right to talk to anyone the way he did to you? you reach the door to the kitchen, only for her to stop in her tracks, putting a halt in your step as well.

“Oh, my god, he’s coming over here!”

“What?” you don’t look, you can’t, because your face is already on fire with another blush.

“He’s coming over here!” she repeats, giddy, and urges you to turn around. “Good evening, Mr. Wayne!” she gushes. you follow her lead, sheepishly glancing back up at him. his eyes are just as hard cut, as if carved from diamonds, and his brows are knit together. he doesn’t even acknowledge your roommate, he’s much too busy glaring at you. making you feel two feet tall. you shrink beneath his stare.

you half expected him to tell you to get lost; after all, he could’ve kicked you out of the party, couldn’t he? but, he doesn’t. his hand shoots out, wrenching the tray from your grip with a swift snatch, and he tosses it on top of your roommate’s empty tray in her arms, which she catches and holds tight, watching with big eyes. your heart is beating like a drum, and you swear he can hear it. but Damian doesn’t say a word. his stone features fixed on you, he grasps your wrist, tight, and drags you to the dance floor. he was determined to get this dance. you stumble along behind him like an uncertain puppy dog, looking around. “Mister Wayne, I really shouldn’t…”

“It’ll only be one dance.” he says, matter of factly, pulling you close to his body. you hit his surprisingly solid chest with a huff of surprise, blinking. impressive.

“Everyone’s staring at us.” you mumble, sheepish, feeling gazes of disapproval. you must’ve looked hilariously out of place out there, stumbling, clad in a server’s pantsuit, amidst the modelesque women in their long gowns and sparkling gems.

“So?”

“So…” you exhale, incredulously, “you might be used to that but I’m more of a fade in the background type of girl.”

Damian’s eyebrow arches, both hands firmly taking hold of your waist. “So then only look at me.” he commands, and you find yourself compelled to obey, eyeline drifting back to his. you reach up, carefully bringing your hands together at the nape of his neck. “And let them fade into the background.” you give a little nod, and he takes the lead.

your steps are clunky at best, and the heels weren’t helping, but instead of allowing yourself to overhear what the other guests had to say about your lack of skill, you simply watched Damian. his eyes would lock with yours every now and then, but mostly he studied your face, as if examining every pore. you noticed he didn’t even flinch when you stepped on his toes, which you did quite a bit. “Sorry.” you whisper, face heated.

“I knew you couldn’t dance already,” he replies, almost flippant.

“Then why did you want to—“

“Because you’re the only one here I want to dance with.” Damian cuts you off, holding you close to his body. whilst the other couples had fallen back into their own waltz, and their partners twirled them, you noticed Damian was holding you too tight to do that. as if he didn’t want to let you go, even for a second. “If that means you trip over my feet a little, I’m willing to deal with it.”

it takes you a moment to realize your mouth is hanging open, and you close it promptly, feeling flushed. what could you say to that?

“I kinda feel like I’m one wrong step away from breaking my ankle in these things.” you admit halfhearted, glancing towards your feet. whilst his move with such certainty, yours are awkward and unsteady. you give a little, awkward chortle.

Damian leans closer to you, so close that you could feel his breath on your cheeks. “I won’t let you fall. I’ve got you.”

there was something about him that was oddly charming. sure, he was incredibly blunt and, honestly, pretty rude, but when he ensured that he’d keep you upright, you believed him. and you felt a wave of relief washing over you. you hug closer to him, giving in to the urge to rest your cheek against his chest while you sway in tandem. his heartbeat was steady; in contrast to your thumping one, he seemed cool and collected. you wished he could give you pointers.

“What happens when the song ends?” you ask, almost fearful to do so. this already felt like some lucid dream that you might wake up from at any moment, the last thing you wanted to do was hurry it along. “Will you still have me?”

for a moment, Damian says nothing. his fingers lock at the small of your back, his chin resting atop the crown of your head. finally, when you’re ready to kick yourself for asking, he responds. “Yes. For as long as I can.”

Day 27 - Uniform

Pairing: Dick Grayson x gn!reader

Warnings: if you’re under 18, get out of the kinktober tag and go read the books you have for class

Summary: You come home and Dick is wearing his uniform. Nol not that one. But maybe that one too.

Note: ok first of all, I’m so tired of writing smut, I’m sorry y’all. Second of all, ACAB! But the person who requested this asked police uniform even tho canonically he wasn’t a cop for that long in the comics

Kinktober Masterlist

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Maverick Down || Maverick

summary: When Maverick wakes up very sick with a cold, you take him under your care, and he receives a surprise visit from his 'air children'.

pairing: Pete "Maverick" Mitchell x Wife!Reader

warnings: vomiting

✧ Maverick masterlist || My Library || My Kofi

When Maverick didn’t wake up at his normal hour of a prompt five o’clock in the morning, you knew something was wrong. Making your way into the bedroom, you saw that he was in the same position that you left him in last night– flat on his stomach. 

He had his arms curled around a pillow, a soft snore emitting from his mouth.

Checking the time, you realized that it was nearly six, and he normally woke up early enough for a quick run with Rooster who was more than likely about to knock on your door.

“Baby?” You call him gently as you walk over and touch his bare shoulder, only to find that he was very warm. Moving your hand up the length of his neck, you drop your palm against his forehead, only to discover a blistering heat beneath your hand. “Mav,” You whisper under your breath. Certainly so, the doorbell to your house rings, signaling Bradley’s arrival. 

Biting into your lip, you move out of the bedroom and rush into the entryway. You made a mental checklist of things to grab, such as headache medicine, cold medicine, and water. You pulled open the front door and met Bradley with a small smile. 

“Morning,” Bradley walks inside. “Is Mav ready?” 

Sighing, you shake your head.

“He’s burning up with a fever,” You inform him. “He’s hardly moved.” 

Rooster’s face softens. “Maverick? Sick? Should we call an ambulance?” He jokes as he catches sight of the freshly washed grapes you worked on before checking on Maverick. Plucking some of the green fruit from their vines, he pops a couple into his mouth. 

“Funny,” You chuckle. “I’ll be back, alright? You guys may have to skip out on the run.” 

Rooster waves his hand and shakes his head.

“No, we need Captain at his best.” He smiles. 

He waits in the kitchen by the bar while you take the necessary supplies into the bedroom. When you walked inside your bedroom, Maverick had begun to stir. A light groan fell from his mouth as he felt the sudden achiness developing across his body.

“Mav, I’ve got you some medicine,” You inform him as you rest a hand on his shoulder. He twists in your direction, the mention of medicine causing him to chuckle sleepily. 

“Sweetheart, I’m fine,” He assures you, taking your hand into his. 

He looks over at the clock, his eyes widening with the time flashing before his eyes. “I need to get up,” 

“Bradley’s downstairs, but you’re not going on that run, sir.” You push him back down. “You’re burning up with a fever.” 

“I feel fine,” He protests once more. Maverick looks up at him defiantly. His muscles ached, his legs throbbed, and he did feel nauseous, but he wasn’t going to sit there in defeat. He was going on that run, and he was going to work. 

“Listen, you may be the dangerous one between us, but you’re still my husband. And you’re staying here with me so that I can take care of you.” You lean forward and brush your fingertips through his hair. Cracking open the bottle of water, you dispense a few pain relievers and fever reducers into your hand to give to him.

Maverick looks between you and the water but finally takes the bottle and sips from it. The throbbing ache that resulted in his throat made his eyes close and a wince was undeniable. 

“Baby, I’m–”

“You’re lying.” You cut him off. “Drink up, Mav.” You encourage. 

Maverick sighs and finally takes the pills from you and swallows them with a chase of water. “I’ll go run you a shower,” 

“You don’t need to do that,” Maverick sighs. “I’m fine. I’m not sick.”

“You’re not going to work.” You tell him pointedly.

Maverick didn’t want to be babied. He was a grown man, 50, and he wasn’t going to sit there and take this. With a gentle huff, he is able to pull himself away from the blankets. It wasn’t until his feet made contact with the hardwood of the bedroom that the surge of pain filled his legs. He closed his eyes and stretched, the movement of his muscles generating a deeper ache he hadn’t realized was present until he stood upright. 

“I’ll call on your behalf and let the air boss know you won’t be at work,” You kiss the top of his head. “But I’ll go run that shower for you.”

However, Maverick was going to be impossible to stop. He walked over to the closet and retrieved his jeans and white tee, bringing you to furrow your eyebrows. 

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“After I shower, I’m getting dressed.” He says while rummaging through the top drawer. 

“Pete Mitchell,” 

“Yeah?” He responds. 

“Don’t make me call Hondo to humble you.”

Maverick squints in return. “I need to do something. The medicine will kick in, and I’ll be in the air by noon.”

“You won’t be in the air at all, Maverick!” 

From the kitchen area, Rooster can hear you two bickering as he continues to ravage your grapes. His eyes doubled in size when he realized that he had almost eaten the whole container, his eyes switching back and forth. He needed to make some phone calls, but first, he was going to add some humor to Maverick’s day.

“I’LL BE BACK!” Rooster yells before hurrying out of your and Maverick’s house. 

Maverick’s head shifts to the sound of Rooster and he looks at you.

“Darling, please don’t worry about me,”

You take his hand, guiding him to the bathroom. The quick motion causes his head to spin, and you can literally see your husband turning a deep shade of green. No way could he climb into a plane today. You see the way those green eyes spin out of control, the lightheadedness taking over his system. 

“I’m… Fine…” He whispers, but the thick bile that rises in his throat speaks otherwise. Moments later, you watch as Maverick files by, and he makes it to the sink just in time to empty whatever contents are left in his stomach. You sigh and rub his back in a soothing manner, never enjoying when either of you got sick.

While you drenched a rag in cold water to lay over the back of his neck, you hurried to the shower to turn it on. As you returned, he was already grabbing for the toothbrush and toothpaste, bringing a soft sigh to fall from your lips.

“Are you sick now?” You coax, running your fingers through his dark hair which you wet with your fingertips.

Low grunts emerge from his mouth as he cranes his head to the side to look at you.

“Okay, maybe I don’t feel good.” He admits breathily. 

Nodding, you kiss his back. “Let’s get you in the shower, honey,” You rub his bath soothingly as he stands upright.

You wait in the bathroom while he takes his shower, towel, and clothes at the ready. You replaced his desired outfit consisting of jeans and a white tee with a pair of shorts and one of his worn Navy shirts. Maverick would admit, being under the showerhead as hot water pounded against his back – did wonders. But when he stepped out of the warmth and immediately into the cool shower, he was a shivering mess. 

When you helped him get dressed, he looked at you with sorrow lacing his features.

“This is embarrassing.” 

Raising an eyebrow, you chuckle. “Embarrassing? Mav, I thought we said in sickness and in health in our vows?” You remind him. “You always take care of me when I get sick.”

Maverick’s back was throbbing when he made it out of the bedroom, hair still dripping from the shower. You threw the towel over his head and stopped him, roughly towel-drying his hair. His hands were rested on your waist, forehead coming to rest on your shoulder. He was still warm, but you accounted that to the hot shower he just took. 

“Yeah, but this is different,” Maverick contests. “I’m the man.”

“And men don’t get sick?” 

Maverick laughs quietly, a cough ensuing. 

“I’ll make you some tea, come on,” You guide him into the living room and make a spot on the couch for him with a pillow and a blanket. He was shuddering by the time you got him settled, and you promised that later on, you’d help warm him up. You weren’t sure where Rooster ran off to, but the moment you made the phone call to the admiral in charge, he said he already knew of Maverick’s absence for the day, and he wished him well. 

You returned to the living room with the hot tea that had milk and honey in it.

“The honey will help soothe your throat. Sip it lightly, I don’t want you to throw up again,” You sit beside him on the couch. He sits up slightly and takes the mug of tea from you, a soft smile on his face. You could see the heaviness of his eyelids. “Try and get some sleep,” You lace your fingertips around his cheek. 

Maverick nods his head. “I’m sorry for ruining whatever you had planned today,”

Sighing, you shake your head. “You needed me, darling.” You lean forward and kiss the crown of his head. Maverick eases into your touch and hands you the mug of tea. You place it down and start to rub along his shoulders, listening to the subtle grunts that fall from his mouth.

“Does it hurt?” You ask quietly.

“A little,” Maverick answers. “I’m just achy.” 

Nodding, you move between his shoulder blades once he turned onto his stomach, and that’s when he made very distinctive sounds that shouldn’t have had you thinking otherwise, especially when he was supposed to be your patient. 

But luckily, the back rub put him to sleep. When you stopped hearing him answer your questions, you craned your head over to see that he was knocked out, eyelashes fanned over the tops of his reddened cheeks. A bit of drool seeped from the corners of his smushed lips against the pillow, a smile spreading across your face. You kissed a trail up his spine from the small of his back before stroking your fingers through his hair, earning the soft snores to return from earlier this morning.

A couple of hours later when Maverick woke up, he thought death had finally come to take him. The deep groan that fell from your husband’s lips made your head snap up from your laptop as you were trying to get some work done. 

“Baby?” You put your laptop aside and walk over to the couch. 

He was irritated. He woke up and glared at you, shaking his head. His entire body somehow ached from the top of his head to the soles of his feet. The waves of nauseous returned, and before you realized what was happening, he was pushing his way from the couch, only able to make it to the kitchen sink this time. He was bent over the edge, fingertips flexed and gripping the granite. His head pounded with a vicious headache, the incoming bound of sunlight striking his eyes and generating a deep sense of pain in his emerald eyes. 

His forehead rested against the cold granite countertop as you hurried in before starting back with the cold rag over his back and neck this time. 

“You feel worse?” You ask him.

He nods violently, unable to produce a sentence. You bite into your lip, already prepared to make a phone call to the doctor to see if you could get him in. Once his stomach settled again, you were able to guide him over to the couch, where he practically fell into the cushions. 

His eyes were heavy, and he looked at you with such a pitiful expression, your heart broke into a thousand pieces.

“Oh baby,” You cup his cheek. His head lolls back to look at you. 

“I’m dying,” He groans.

Shaking your head, his fever seemed to have gone down slightly, but not enough that it didn’t concern you. 

“You’re not dying,” You promise him.

He was able to continue sitting there despite clutching his stomach, the threat of throwing up nudging him violently. Maverick didn’t want you to see him like this. He was a confident man, a man who was often prideful, but this was terrible. You lay there, stroking your fingers through his hair as he relaxed finally.

“If you’re not better by tomorrow morning, we’re going to the doctor,” You tell him.

He agreed. Maverick nodded, gulping. 

As you were about to open your mouth to say something else, to possibly offer him something else to settle his stomach, you heard a knock on the door. Checking your watch, it was just after lunch.

Making your way to the front door, you looked out the window, only to see that it was the Dagger Squad. Your eyes widened as you unlocked the door and pulled it open.

Rooster, Hangman, Phoenix, Bob, Fanboy, and Payback stood there with smiles, each one with something in their hands. 

“Is Pops still alive?” Hangman chuckles. 

Smiling, you figured that a visit from his practical children would do him some good. 

Letting them inside, Phoenix walks over, and in her hands was a bag with a container. 

“I brought you some soup, chicken noodle.” She winks and goes to set it on the counter. 

“Flowers tend to make me feel better,” Bob shrugs. “Hope you like sunflowers, Mav.” He makes his way behind Phoenix to set the prepped vase beside the soup. 

Fanboy comes in next. “I wrote down some rather… Funny things occurred with some students today. Figured you’d want a laugh,” He winks and hands Maverick the journal he wrote in. 

Payback grins. “You might be out of commission for a couple of days, and as much as you love working on that plane in your shop? Got you a miniature one,” He sets the modeled plane on the coffee table, bringing Maverick to chuckle lightly. 

“I brought the sarcasm,” Hangman insists. “You look just like an old man, Mav. Frail and brittle.” He winks, plopping down into the chair in front of Maverick.

“And I brought the best thing of all!” Rooster announces. He pulls out a big Get Well Soon card and opens it. “We all signed it,” 

Your eyes widen as you look at the group who came over just to make your husband feel better. Maverick looks at every single one of them individually and chuckles. 

“Also, Hondo said you better not give Y/n any kind of look while she tries to take care of you,” Phoenix added with a smile. 

“Penny said you’ve got a free beer on her when you’re back too,” Rooster adds. 

You walk over and take a seat beside him.

“You guys are so sweet,” You hold Maverick’s shoulder.

Maverick grins at them. “Thank you,” He announces. “Really, thank you.” 

They all shake their heads.

“After everything you did for us? This is the least we could do,” Bob answers. 

“You’re like our Navy dad,” Fanboy chuckles. 

“Dad?” Hangman responds. “He’s a fossil. Granddad is the proper term.”

Maverick shoots him a glare, but they both dissolve with laughter. 

You look over at Rooster, knowing well that he was the source behind this. You deliver him a wink to which he offers one in return. 

Maverick knew he was in good hands.

It’s A Long Way To The Top 🎸 | Pete Maverick Mitchell / Top Gun Maverick Imagine

Takes place after the events of TGM

Top Gun Maverick Masterlist

Characters & Pairings: Captain Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell x 80s Rockstar!reader (romantic), Bradley Bradshaw x reader (mother/son-type relationship), Dagger Squad (platonic) Hondo (platonic)

Content warnings: Fluff, slight profanity, flirtatious banter, light suggestive content, mentions of past drug use. | Female!reader (she/her) | wc: 13.5k

Social Media matching HC

Premise: The Dagger Squad didn’t know much about their former instructor turned friend, Captain Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell. Only Rooster had insight on all there was when it came to the famous pilot, and his love life certainly fell into that. When the squad shows up unannounced to Maverick’s San Diego home for his birthday weekend, they are greeted with the shock of the lifetime when it’s revealed Maverick’s lady once ruled the radio of the decade they were born in. And what better way for them to properly meet one of the greatest rockstars to ever exist than by attending the bands reunion concert that night.

Note: So TC was born in 1962 and that what it also says for Maverick (although with his rank I doubt it lines up but Imma just go with it), so for this imagine you were born in 1964 and were the front woman of a famous 80s rock band who Mav meets after the events of Top Gun. I love rock music and have been listening to it nonstop the past week and this inspired me. At first I was gonna do this with Rooster or Phoenix with a modern day rockstar, but then I thought Mav was better suited for what I had planned.

Also in my research I found that the Staples Center (which is going to mentioned a lot) opened in 1999 and is now called Crypto.com Arena, but for this just imagine it opened in the 80s and is still called the Staples Center. Personally I will always refer to it as that even though it got a new name. Last thing, my favorite band is AC/DC and i use two of their songs as ‘your’ songs verbally said. The album/era names are ones I thought of off the bat, and feel free to imagine your friends as your bandmates, I just gave them names to make it easier when writing. And the photo on the collage is to show the outfit reference—I don’t write with any indication of race/ethnicity/etc unless it’s for an OC. Hope you enjoy and let me know what you think!

————————————

“Are you guys sure about not warning Rooster we’re coming?” Bob voiced from the passenger side of Nat’s car. In the backseat were Mickey and Payback while Hondo drove the car behind them containing Hangman and Coyote.

“Bradshaw will spoil the surprise,” Fanboy reminds him, “And the whole point of this is to surprise Mav. We haven’t seen him in months and this is the first time we’re all together again.”

“I know,” Bob sighs, leaning back into his seat before glancing at Nat, “How did you even get his address, Nat?”

She doesn’t stray her eyes from the road as she responds, “I may have convinced Admiral Simpson to give it to me, saying we all wanted to send Mav a birthday gift but didn’t have his permanent residence. I know he’s often in the Mojave desert during his vacation, but Cyclone gave me his San Diego home address.”

“Hondo didn’t even have Mav’s address?” Mickey says more to himself, surprised the man did not. He was Mav’s closest friend and had been with him since the Darkstar project.

“Hondo only had his Mojave camp—which isn’t really an address when you think about it. It’s quite literally on an old airstrip that’s not even used by the Navy anymore,” Nat tells him, “Mav lived there during their assignment so it makes sense why he only had that one.”

“So what I’m hearing is you deceived Admiral Simpson so we can show up on Mav’s doorstep like ‘surprise! We’re here!’ And Cyclone just gave it to you with no questions asked?” Payback raises a brow, catching her eyes in the rear view mirror.

“Not entirely,” she defends, “I mean we are sending him a birthday gift…..it’s just we are the birthday gift.” At the laughs from the men Nat rolls her eyes, “Y’all are in this too, so I don’t know why you’re laughing. We’re almost there. GPS says ten minutes.”

The Pacific Ocean was to their right, the sun high in the sky as the time reached one o’clock. They noticed as they traveled down the road that the houses were becoming more distant and eye-catching. “Damn,” Fanboy whistled under his breath at one point.

When they got to the turn to enter the neighborhood, they were greeted with a closed gate and security. Nat mentally cursed, not anticipating Mav lived in a gated community.

Now the jig was up and they were gonna have to call Rooster.

While Nat spoke with one of the security guards Bob was already dialing Bradley, who answered with a confused, “Hey, Bob. What’s up?”

“Rooster, hey, I’m sorry to bother you but the squad and I were planning to surprise Maverick for his birthday tonight and well….we’re kinda at the entrance to his neighborhood. We didn’t think it would be gated and needed confirmation from the resident to get in.”

“Ah damn,” Bradley said with a laugh and Bob could hear him fiddling with his keys. “I wish y’all would’ve told me, but then again I know I probably would’ve ruined it.” It was the truth, Rooster could not keep a secret if his life depended on it. Last year he unintentionally spoiled Nat’s surprise party when she got promoted. Soon it became a running joke amongst the group. “Just hang tight, I’ll be right there.”

“Wait, are you at Mav’s house?” All eyes in the car turned to Bob, the WSO catching the sound of Rooster’s Bronco starting up.

“Yeah, I’m on the list and can get y’all in. Hang on, imma tell him I’m running out to get beers.” There was a pause on the receiver before a car door shuts and Rooster says, “I’ll be there in two minutes.” Bob stayed on the line before hanging up when they caught sight of the bright blue vehicle approaching from the other side of the gate. Rooster pulled off to the side, exited the car and approached the security hut where another officer met him in the middle. The team watched as they exchanged words before the guard Nat spoke with was called over.

When he returned seconds later he said, “we’re gonna open the gate and if you could please pull off to where my buddy directs you and step out. We have to check the cars.”

“Sure thing,” Nat says with a wave as he goes to relay the same to Hondo. Passing the gate, she parks the car where the guard instructs and all four step out from the vehicle. Hondo pulls up seconds later with Hangman and Coyote coming over to stand with the group as Rooster approaches.

“Well this sure is some special treatment,” Hangman jokes when an officer comes up with a metal detector to begin scanning the squad while the two search their cars. He notices one of the officers writing down the car information, including the license plate number. “Never seen this before when I’ve been to a gated neighborhood.”

“It’s just precaution since it’s your first time” Rooster says, dabbing up the guys when they are finished being scanned. “It’s good to see you guys.”

“It’s good to see you too, Bradshaw,” Nat gives him a hug and appears apologetic. “Sorry we didn’t let you know in advance.”

“Ah it’s all good. Like I told Bob I probably would’ve ruined it.” They all laugh, some muttering sounds of agreement. It was all in good heart though, Bradley wasn’t offended. He was just happy to see his friends again and celebrate Mav’s 60th with them.

The only thing….they were in for their own surprise when they got to the house.

“Does the governor of California live here or something?” Javy jokes, but judging by the way Rooster reacts he’s certain there is some truth to it.

“All clear!” The main guard shouts, nodding to Rooster. “Y’all are free to go, just make sure to call in if you leave the area and return later on.”

“Will do,” Rooster salutes, shaking his hand afterwards. “Thanks again, Frank.” Telling his friends to follow behind him, they all got into their respective vehicles and headed down the road leading to the neighborhood.

“Sheeeesh,” Mickey says in awe at some of the houses they passed. They looked to be a million bucks. Literally. They were distanced quite a bit like something you see in Calabasas and had long entrances. “Mav should be on MTV’s cribs. How the hell does a naval Captain get something like this?”

“Probably by saving for that perfect retirement home,” Nat comments, eyes lingering on one house that caught her eyes.

“Nah,” Payback shakes his head, “I’ve seen Admirals with places not even to this extent. No offense to Mav, but I don’t see how an O-6 could afford a place like this.” About a minute passed before they were turning into a long driveway, all four jaws dropping at the sight of the home.

Yeah they needed to know Pete’s secret.

It was a gorgeous two-story mediterranean style home with an iron gate surrounding the perimeter. The exterior was beautiful, with flowers and various plants on the grounds. A front enclosed patio was the first thing they could see connecting to a foyer where the front door was located. Only one word could describe the home: marvelous.

The driveway was crescent shaped and could fit at least four cars with a side entrance leading to the garage. Rooster pulled up to the furthest spot allowing Nat and Hondo to pull up behind him. “Holy shit,” Fanboy says in awe, hopping out of the car and shutting the door behind him.

Shutting his own door, Hangman whistles, “If this is what retirement looks like, I can’t wait.”

“C’mon,” Rooster chuckles, nodding his head to the entrance. “Mav’s in the garage working on his bike.” The squad all rushes to get the gifts, beer, and food they had brought for the pilot, following behind Rooster while trying to not make it look like they were gawking at the home. They hadn’t even seen the inside yet but could already tell it was going to be as incredible as the outside.

Putting a finger to his lips, the group remains quiet at Rooster’s command as they ease their way into the garage. It was very similar to the one at his camp hangar in the desert. Pictures hung on a wall with several plaques. Motorcycles lined up and sitting in the corner was a gorgeous 1966 Dodge Charger. Coyote had to put a hand to his mouth to keep from making a sound when he saw it.

“That you, Bradley?” Mav said with his back to the group, unaware his practically surrogate son was not alone. He was dressed in a greased up white tee with some old light washed jeans and boots. Playing on the radio was the 80s on 8 channel from SiriusXM.

“Yeah it’s me,” Rooster places a case of beers the squad brought on the counter near the fridge. “I brought some strays too while I was at it.”

“Strays? What—?” Mav laughs, moving to turn around which resulted in his mouth dropping and wrench clinking to the floor.

“Surprise!” Everyone shouted, grinning widely at their former instructor who was completely speechless. “Happy Birthday, Mav!”

“Wha-oh my gosh!” The pilot's feet moved before he could stop them, embracing Phoenix first since she was closest before doing the same to the others. As he pulls away from Hondo, patting his back Mav goes, “What’re you doing here?”

“Surprising you for your birthday, old man,” Hangman lightly punches his shoulder. “You’re turning the big six-zero, there was no way we were missing it.”

“Aww thanks guys,” the man blushes, grinning when they bombard him with gifts. “It’s so good to see you all—I-I wish I would’ve known you were coming.”

“Then it wouldn’t have been a surprise, Cap,” Fanboy points to him with a knowing look.

“True,” Mav laughs, directing the crew to put the bags and all on the counter in the garage where the sink was located. “Thank you all so much, you really didn’t have to do all this.”

“It’s been a long time since we’ve seen ya, Mav,” Phoenix tells him, accepting the beer Rooster offers her that was already in the fridge. He passes them out to the crew, except Bob and Mav who kindly decline. Phoenix waves a hand, “Quite the place you got. Rooster had to come save us at the gate.”

Mav raises a brow at Rooster, “You didn’t know about this?”

“Nope,” he pops the ‘p’, “I’m sure you can guess why.” It takes Mav a moment, but then he chuckles, thinking back to the many times Bradley did ruin a surprise. Nat’s promotion party, Hondo’s birthday dinner, and the tickets the group got Mickey to attend SDCC’s Star Wars reunion panel.

“We hope we didn’t catch you at a bad time,” Bob says. “Dropping in unannounced. We weren’t sure if you had anything planned this weekend, but we all took a few days off—got rooms in TLF back at Fightertown, so we would love to take you out for dinner or something this weekend.”

Mav glances at Rooster, who gives a knowing look to the pilot while sipping his beer. The two share a silent exchange of words before he scratches the back of his neck….a few catch the reflective metal of a gold on his left ring finger. Phoenix and Bob’s eyes widen, looking around to see if anyone else spotted what they did.

“Um, well we did have plans tonight—but I can make a call and figure something out. Tomorrow for sure I’m free all day so whatever you guys want to do I’m game.”

“What kind of plans?” Coyote asks before Payback and Hondo nudges him for being nosy. “Owwww.”

Hesitant to reply, Mav gives Rooster another look before nodding his head to the door, “why don’t you guys come inside. Make yourself comfortable while I make a quick call.”

“Are you not going to—,” Mav is quick to cut Bradley off with a wink. Confused, the entire squad look at each other with the same expression before following behind Mav while Rooster is the last to enter and shut the garage door.

Pete doesn’t have to turn around to know they were all gawking at the interior of the home. The first rooms closest to the garage were the laundry room, open kitchen and dining room. Sounds of approaching steps alerted the group and several audibly reacted to the adult Dalmatian, white husky, and golden retriever puppy racing after them.

“Oh my gosh,” Javy kneeled down to pet the Goldie pawing at his legs. “Your dogs are adorable.” The husky was licking at Jake’s face while Phoenix and Bob were occupied with the Dalmatian before each dog inspected each of the guests. “What are their names?”

“That’s Ice,” he pointed to the husky first then the Dalmatian, “Bella.” Lastly he pointed at the puppy, who was kissing up on Mickey, “and Goose.” They spend a good three minutes right there in the kitchen allowing the dogs to receive attention from the squad before Mav directs them to the living room.

And that’s when they pass the cabinet.

A cabinet that was just one of many.

“Uh, Mav,” Payback stops, causing those behind him to do the same, gaze locked on the floor to ceiling glass cabinet—if you could call it that, it was more like a shrine.

Dedicated to one of the world's most renowned rock bands.

“Yeah?” Mav already knew what they were looking at. And that was only scratching the surface compared to the others in the house.

“Say, uh—,” Payback tilts his head, pointing to the cabinet, “Are you like, obsessed with ‘Y/n & the Romantics’,” several eyes trailed along the various shelves lined with actual Grammy awards for ‘Best Rock Performance by a Duo/Group’, ‘Best Rock Album’, ‘Best Rock Song’, ‘Record of the Year,’ & ‘Album of the Year,’ going back as 1980 to 2021 as the most recent. Other awards included almost a dozen in MTV Moonmen, Billboard Music Awards, American Music Awards, and an Oscar for ‘Best Original Song’. Framed photographs of the band hung on the walls and perched on the shelves. Some included them with famed music legends like Cher, Prince, Micheal Jackson, Cyndi Lauper, Lionel Richie, Def Leppard, and Duran Duran….those of which the squad could make out the signature on the photograph itself. An eye catcher was the USA for Africa signed photograph of every artist, including the Romantics, featured in Michael Jackson’s “We Are The World.”

One shelf pretty much was reserved for all the times they were the musical guests on SNL. Four times to be exact. Another shelf, that had their eyes boggling, was dedicated to their 1999 Super Bowl Halftime performance with a football signed by the band and head coaches of the teams that played that year.

Fanboy nearly shit his pants when he saw the guitars mounted on the wall. Not only were they signed by absolute icons, including Elvis fucking Preseley, but one of which was the iconic checkered neon pink Fender Stratocaster frontwoman Y/n L/n played in the 80s.

Y/n L/n. Dubbed the ‘daughter of Rock ‘n’ Roll’ with a voice that had people say she was what an angel would sound like if they rebelled from God to become a rockstar. Together with some of her best friends from high school, formed the group ‘Y/n & the Romantics,’ signing with a small label in Atlanta, Georgia in 1978 at aged 14 after being discovered on the corner of a street playing covers of Elvis, The Beatles, and Billie Holiday. What had the producer write up a contract right there was when he heard Y/n’s rendition of ‘Crybaby,’ by Janis Joplin. It was as though Janis had been reincarnated. Her voice was unlike anything he’d ever heard.

They released their first single on New Year’s Day of 1979. That first single that had RCA Records knocking on their door and shot them into becoming one of the best selling rock bands of all time. When MTV launched on August 1, 1981, their music video for their Grammy Award winning single was the third to be played after ‘Video Killed The Radio Star,’ by the Buggles, and ‘You Better Run’ by Pat Benatar. Y/n & the Romantics became teen sensations, dominating the 1980s and 90s before going on hiatus in the early 2000s. Y/n was not only known for her recognizable, unique voice but also her split dye hair, leather outfits, stage presence, and signature pink guitar she named, ‘Dirty Shirley.’

And it was in Maverick’s house.

“Holy shit,” Phoenix breathed out, patting Payback to look to the left. That’s when he noticed the wedding picture hung on the wall not too far from where they were standing. The bride, kissing Maverick in the photo, was the same woman holding a Grammy with her bandmates.

Eyes bulging out, Payback whistled and asked what they were all thinking, “Or…. you got something to tell us?”

August 15, 1989. Los Angeles, California. Club Electic Idol

“Tell me, Pete—or do you prefer Maverick?” The blue light shining above her in the bar had the glitter on her face reflect. She was dazzling. Unlike any woman he’d ever met. And Pete met a lot in his career, though they never captivated him like she was now. He wanted to dance with her forever

Arms around his neck, their bodies pressed together as they swayed to the beat of ‘When Doves Cry,’ by Prince. The leather adorning her body was smooth against his fingertips. Completely ignorant of the flashing of cameras from the side and envious gazes of both men and women around them. Never did the pilot think when he, Ice, and Slider agreed on coming to that bar after the concert that he would end up with the frontwoman in his arms. They were just looking for a place to grab a quick drink, maybe dance with a girl or two, and chill before heading back to their hotel.

Guess Y/n & the Romantics were looking to do the same. Fate seemed to bring them together.

“Either is fine, sweetheart.” She smirked at the nickname, finding it amusing. God, even her smirk was sexy. Everything about her was.

“You do that little show of yours each time you see a pretty lady? Or am I just special?”

Damn she caught him.

Truth be told it scared the shit out of him to even think about doing it. Had it not been for the light buzz from drinking a couple beers and encouragement from Ice saying, “You’re the only bloke in this bar who could probably get her into bed if you tried, Mitchell. I saw her eyeing you when you went to pick a song on the jukebox.”

At first he refused. It was Y/n fucking L/n of all people. And there were plenty of people, men and women, who were taking a shot at swooning the rockstar. Left and right they were offering her drinks and asking her to dance. Mav would only go up to her if Ice and Slider sang with him. There was no way in hell he would embarrass just himself. Especially if it didn’t turn out the way he wanted.

The fact it actually did work had the pilot thank his guardian angel, who no doubt had to have been Goose.

“I’ve only done it a few times. The first crashed and burned. Second time actually got me a date,” his lips curled up, “Now I’m hoping the third time’s a charm.”

“I see,” she hummed, never taking her eyes off him. The silence that indicated she was deep in thought. “What are you hoping to get out of it?”

“Honestly, maybe a kiss when the night comes to an end if you’d allow me the honor. But if not I would want you to never forget me. Just like I won’t ever forget you.”

“After a performance like that, Lieutenant, I’ll remember you till the end of time. And about that kiss….” She brings her mouth closer to his, but still enough distance to keep them apart. Pete felt his heart skip at the proximity, the perfume she wore filling his nostrils. “Keep impressing me and it just might come true.”

Present Day

“Wait-wait-wait,” Phoenix laughed with the guys as Maverick finished telling the story of when he went with Slider and Iceman to see Y/n & the Romantics perform at the Staples center in 1989. They were all seated in the living room—which had more framed photos of not just Y/n and her band but also of her and Maverick over the years and Rooster as a child.

Jake took photos of that on his phone to hold for blackmail. Now it made sense why Rooster was always singing their songs on the piano when they would go out.

After giving a quick tour of the first floor of the home, they all settled in the living room with his dogs as Mav sent a text to his lady to call him after soundcheck. Beers were brought out and some snacks, the crew still processing the news as they took it all in. Eventually after a quick explanation, Pete answered the many questions they had, including just how the hell he managed to pull one of the greatest rockstars to ever exist.

Whose band literally had a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame and were being inducted into the Rock ‘n’ Roll Hall of Fame in just a few months.

“So from what I’m gathering,” Nat points to her forehead, as though she were deep in thought, “If my brain is right on track here….you were, to put it lightly…a groupie?”

“Now hold on—.” Mav tried to say but was cut off by the obnoxious laughter that was Javy, Mickey, and Jake while Bob and Hondo just shook their heads, although they were grinning wide at the insinuation. Rooster was smirking like, ‘told you so.’ Mav sighed, but he was smiling as the laughter died down. “I was not a groupie. Okay—yeah I had the hope I would meet her after the show, but I didn’t go out of my way to make that happen. They just happened to come to the same bar that night—I swear!”

“That literally sounds like what a groupie is, Mav,” Hondo pats his back. “You just got lucky it went in your favor.”

Blushing, Mav coughed lightly as he laughed with the group before adding, “I’d like to point out that nothing … you know, happened, alright? We simply had some drinks, danced…I may have tried serenading her with my rendition of ‘You’ve Lost That Loving Feeling,’” the laughter got louder, making his blush deepen, “and then we exchanged addresses to send each other letters—because that’s what you did back in the day or call on the landline. It was history from there.”

“Don’t forget, Mav,” Rooster points at him. “You guys made out and then you exchanged addresses before leaving.” Mav has to cover his face to hide his blush when the group hollar and cheer.

“So how long y’all been together?” Rueben asks, finishing off his beer.

“Since 1990. But we didn’t get married until 2002 after the band went on hiatus.”

“How come?” Phoenix tilted her head curiously.

Though Phoenix and most of the guys were not die hard fans of Y/n & the Romantics, they were familiar with their music of course. As one of the most influential rock bands of all time everyone had heard of them in some way, shape, or form. Their parents often played their records, or they’d hear them on the radio and in movies. The squad were all born in the 1980s & early 90s so by the time they got into their teenage years the band had already stopped releasing music. It wasn’t until late 2020 they announced a reunion with the release of their latest album and were currently on tour across North America. During the hiatus however, Y/n still wrote songs for other artists and even released a few solo records. Some of the Grammy’s in the case belonged to only her and not just with the band.

Personal lives of the band members were not something they knew too well. The only people in the group who had knowledge of some details were Mickey, who was a big fan growing up, and Hondo. Bob was also a fan, having played the drums as a teenager and cited them to be a big influence. On google information showed that the group consisted of Y/n, the lead vocalist who also played guitar, Maya the bass player, Evan the lead guitarist, Danny the drummer, and Ronnie on keys. All of them provided backup vocals on tracks.

Maya and Evan ended up falling in love, confirming long time rumors they were together in 1987 and had three kids over the course of the 90s. Danny married a famous actress in 2000 with whom he had a son. Lastly Ronnie was once married to the lead singer of another rock group before divorcing and finding love with a movie producer from when she landed a role in a tv drama, the two adopted a son and daughter in the early 2000s.

Y/n’s information did actually include the fact she and Maverick met in 1989 when they played at the Staples center, that he was a Captain in the Navy being the only man to shoot down five enemy planes in the last 40 years, and were together for over a decade before finally getting married. They did not have kids and the text read how they liked to keep their personal lives private.

Rooster of course knew everything. The first time he met Y/n was in 1991 when he was 7 years old and looked at her like a second mother growing up. She taught him piano and guitar, let him attend shows when the group were on tour in Virginia, and was always a phone call away even after he and Maverick were at odds. Since she didn’t have kids, Bradley was the closest to what it was like having a son. There was no way she was going to let them drift apart after vowing to Carole she would take care of him. They spoke almost weekly with Rooster updating Y/n on his career and asking when she was getting the band back together, knowing she missed going on the road and performing.

“Soon,” she would tell him with a laugh, “I’m working on some songs in the meantime. We all agreed once the kids are older that we’ll come back.” That was in 2012. Now it was 2022 and finally Y/n & the Romantics were on stage performing for a sold out crowd full of people from all ages. They were all in their late 50s but still knew how to rock n’ roll like the good ole days. Y/n never lost her stage presence, the audience thrived on it. Over the years she took care of her voice so she would sound exactly like she did in the 80s. It was her staple after all.

Answering Nat’s question, Mav gave a light shrug, “It just sorta happened that way honestly. We were happy with how things were—marriage was not for us until then. I should say legally married actually, because here in California the relationship was viewed as common law marriage since we had been together for so many years,” Mav explained before taking a sip of water, “Around the time they disbanded the others had young or were starting to have children so they decided to take a break until the kids were grown up.”

“I think that was the first time I saw my mother cry,” Bob chuckled, fixing his glasses as all eyes turned to him. “My mom was—is a huge fan. Anytime we went on road trips she’d play one of their albums. I think she even saw them live when she was in college—said it was one of the best nights of her life. She had a crush on Danny if I’m not mistaken.” Mav smiles, not surprised it was Danny. In the 80s the man was quite the heartthrob.

“How come you never told us?” Mickey cut in. It was a question all were curious to know. Hondo knew Mav was married, but not to whom. He and Penny had history and were friendly at the Hard Deck so they assumed they were together or possibly going to. Finding out he’s been in a long time relationship with Y/n L/n was the shock of their life.

“We like our privacy. It’s why we waited to get married also, because of how big they were in the 80s and 90s. I got followed by paparazzi in the beginning—which was causing problems with my job. We actually pretended to break up in the late 90s to get them off my back,” Mav shrugs again, “I also don’t like the idea of bragging that my wife is Y/n L/n. I love and respect her so much. Yeah I was a fan of her music, but what made me fall in love with her was getting to know her for who she was. Not Y/n the rockstar, but Y/n the girl who replays her favorite songs if someone talks during it. Who can quote every single line from ‘Dirty Dancing’. Who will scold me for leaving seven half filled water bottles on my nightstand.” Laughs rang out at that. “We personally enjoy letting people discover it on their own, rather than telling them upfront.”

“I still can’t wrap it around my head,” Jake waves a hand to emphasize his point. “That you pulled pretty much the woman all our dads, maybe even moms, had a crush on. Your game is on another level. Like please tell me your secrets, pops.” Phoenix playfully slaps Hangman on the shoulder.

Before he could answer the pilot, Maverick’s phone rings causing him to jolt from the couch. “Give me a moment guys,” excusing himself he goes around the corner into the hallway before answering, “Hey, honey.”

“Hey, is everything good? Your message sounded urgent.”

Mav heard sounds in the background, possibly the crew setting up the stage for the night’s show. “Everything is great….uhh-say is tonight’s show sold out?”

“Yessss,” he could hear the confusion laced in her tone. “At least that was what I was told by Hank. Why? Did Bradley want to bring a friend? I’m sure I can get a pass.” Mav let out a sigh, scratching his chin.

“If it’s too much to ask then don’t worry about it, I know you gotta get back to soundcheck and have a few hours until the concert starts. But my former students from a few years ago surprised me today to celebrate my birthday. They’re here at the house—Bradley didn’t even know they were coming, honey.”

Y/n laughed, “I wouldn’t have bet money on him to know,” they laughed together, Y/n following with, “But that’s so sweet of them! I know how much you’ve missed them since you retired last year. How long are they in town?”

“Just for the weekend. They all got rooms on base and were hoping to take me out either tonight or possibly tomorrow. I told them I had plans tonight….”

“But you didn’t tell them what plans, huh?” Mav could picture the smirk on her face. “Do they know?”

“About us? I just finished telling them why I never mentioned anything. They seem to understand and were apologetic for dropping in unannounced. But…..I have not told them that the last stop in your tour is tonight at the Staples Center and Bradley and I were going to be leaving in a few hours.”

“Who all is it?”

“My buddy Hondo from when I did the Darkstar project—I think I’ve told you about him, the two foxtrot teams I did the uranium mission with and two of my reserves. So seven total.”

“I see,” Y/n humed, finding her husband’s situation amusing. He let out a groan, apologizing but she just laughed and said, “Well since it is your birthday and I’ve been wanting to meet your little dagger ducklings forever now,” he smiled at the nickname Y/n had given the pilots. They really were his ducklings. “Let me talk with Hank and the venue manager. Show doesn’t start till seven so there’s plenty of time. Just hang tight and I’ll call you back, okay? I know you're probably losing your mind because you don’t want to miss tonight’s show knowing it’s the last of the tour, but you also want to spend time with them while they're in town. Imma make sure you get both, pretty boy…..and maybe a little something more when the night comes to a close.”

Fuck that got Mav blushing, knowing exactly what she was implying. “Y/n…”

“Love you, Pete. Wait for my call.” Telling her the same, Mav hangs up the phone and reenters the living room. Rooster immediately meets his eye, lifting a thumbs up to which Mav returns with a gesture to signify he was working on it. For the next thirty minutes the squad makes small talk until his phone rings again. “Hey.”

“Would it be okay if you put me on speaker?”

A smile forms on his lips, “Sure thing,” he looks at the group to catch their attention, “Someone wants to say hi,” they all, minus Rooster who’s smirking, watch with confused expressions as Mav hits the speaker button and places the phone on the table. “What have you got for us, honey?” The second the pet name leaves his lips, Mav sees Fanboy drop his now empty cup of water, Phoenix slap a hand over her mouth, Javy pushing Jake and vice versa muttering ‘holy shit.’ Everyone else pretty much does something similar when Y/n’s voice echoes through the receiver, “Hello hello, aviators.”

“Oh my God.”

“Yo this ain’t happening right now.”

“Guys, guys, shut up—holy shit.”

Y/n laughed at the reactions. “It’s so nice to finally—even if it’s over the phone at the moment—meet you guys! Pete talks about you all everyday.”

“I-I wish we could say the same about you, ma’am,” Payback nervously laughs. “We didn’t even know the man was hitched until an hour ago. Also we apologize for the fanboying-fangirling, it’s an honor to speak to such a legend. You’re an icon.”

“Oh you’re too kind,” she awes, “thank you so much. I hope you guys can forgive him for not saying anything—he meant well.”

“We understand,” Phoenix says on their behalf. “We’d also like to say sorry for showing up to your house uninvited—your home is beautiful by the way. We-we just wanted to surprise Captain Mitchell since it’s been so long since we were all together and he’s done so much for us.”

“I think that’s so amazing you guys did that! I wish I could’ve been home to greet you guys and see the look on his face. Did he cry by any chance?”

“Honey please…” Mav pleaded, causing everyone to laugh.

“I’m sorry, babe. Anyways, Pete tells me you guys are in town for the weekend and well……tonight the Romantics and I are playing our last show in L.A at seven. Bradley and Pete were set to leave San Diego around four to make it on time and if y’all are up for the short drive…..I have seven passes reserved with your names on them.”

The reaction of the dagger squad could only be described with a singular word: chaos.

First it was more of denial, but then they saw Maverick and Rooster’s face and realized Y/n was in fact serious. She was inviting them to her concert. The final show in her band’s reunion tour. The soon to be Rock n Roll Hall of Famers.

Yeah, they about lost their minds.

“I gotta call my mom—she’s gonna flip!”

“How the hell am I supposed to continue living life after this?”

“This is your birthday Mav!” Phoenix pointed at him while Bob had his hands in his face, expression unreadable. “You’re not supposed to be giving us anything, it's the other way around!”

“Nat, I would love nothing more than to spend my birthday with you guys at the concert tonight.” That just about made her tear up.

“Yo so this is legit?” Coyote held up a hand, trying to calm his excitement. “We’re actually going?”

“Hell yeah!” Jake said, Rooster and Payback agreeing with a high-five. “What the birthday boy wants, the birthday boy gets.”

“Y/n, thank you so much,” Hondo said on their behalf. “I’m sorry if you can’t hear over these clowns in the background, but I’ll speak for everyone when I say that we are so grateful for you to invite us to experience your show together and celebrate Mav’s birthday. I don’t think we’ll stop thanking you so be warned.”

After a few more minutes of mainly the squad bombarding the rockstar with words of gratitude and thanks, Y/n informs Pete of where to go when they get to the venue and she’ll meet them backstage to give them the passes. When they say their goodbyes and hang up, Coyote goes, “Okay so I don’t know about y’all…but I cannot walk into a rock concert dressed like this,” he gestures to his gray Navy t-shirt and torn jeans, “How much time we got, Cap?” The question has Pete check his watch.

“If we wanna get there before the doors open, I’d say we should leave in about two hours. It’s gonna take at least two hours to get to L.A, and we gotta consider traffic.” Mav thinks for a moment before saying, “I may have something that can help. Follow me.”

In one of the many closets used as a storage place, Pete removed a box from the self and opened it to reveal a bunch of vintage t-shirts of Y/n & the Romantics.

“Oh my gosh this is so cool,” Fanboy awed. Some of the shirts were literally from the 80s and 90s but looked to be in new condition, meaning they must have been extras Y/n kept for safekeeping. Nowadays it was hard for someone to get their hands on anything with the classic logo of Y/n & the Romantics unless it was from Etsy or a private seller. Stores like Hot Topic, Spencers, and those dedicated to the 80s or retro-like were the only places to buy the new style of merchandise. But these in the box, they were classic.

“Look through and see if you can find anything. There’s several sizes and styles—most of these were from their ‘Heartbreaker’ era but you may find some from ‘Love is the Eighth Deadly Sin,’ or ‘Rock ‘n’ Rolling to Heaven.’ We have some leather jackets I’d be happy to lend you guys—and Nat, Y/n wanted me to tell you that you’re more than welcome to borrow anything you’d like.” Her eyes go wide.

“Oh I couldn’t possibly—.”

Rooster claps his hands excitedly, cutting Nat off much to her annoyance, “Time to turn you guys into rockstars. Fuck yeah! This is gonna be the best night ever!”

So that’s how the famed naval aviators ended up in their vehicles on a two hour journey to Los Angeles. It was far from what they expected when they set out to surprise Pete Mitchell, but in Maverick fashion things take a different turn when one least expects it. The couple’s dog sitter was called to tend to their animals since it was likely they would not be coming home till the next day. Just after 3:30pm the squad, now dressed like they were straight from the 80s by cutting holes in their jeans and wearing leather jackets and chains Maverick provided, gathered in the cars and hit the road. Maverick and Rooster ended up driving, with Hondo, Coyote, Hangman and Payback in Mav’s SUV and Fanboy, Bob, and Phoenix with Rooster in the Bronco.

Upon instance from Y/n after chatting briefly with her on the phone to make sure it was okay, Nat relented on wearing the red leather Prada two piece set the rockstar wore at the 1994 MTV video awards. It fit like a glove on the pilot, jaw dropping when she looked at herself in the mirror, “Damn.” While in the car she applied some black eye pencil and smudged it out to give her that 80s grunge appearance, to which she made Fanboy and Bob do the same, “Bradshaw, I expect you to rock this too.” At a red light he applied it like a pro, like he’d done it many times before not even needing to fix it.

The entire way both vehicles played Y/n & the Romantics decades worth of music. It surprised a lot of the crew when they recognized some songs from movies and tv shows they had no idea were by them. “This was in Stranger Things!” Coyote shouted over the sound, head banging his head along to the beat. Another song had Bob go, “Wasn’t this in the Guardians of The Galaxy?”

By the time they got to L.A the city life was at its prime. Traffic was insane as usual but thankfully they made it to the Staples Center just before six o’clock. The sign outside the venue glowed bright with ‘Y/n & The Romantics—Rockin’ Down Memory Lane Reunion Tour. TONIGHT ONLY—SOLD OUT.’ Pete pulled in front of Rooster to speak to the guard when they got to the back gate. After speaking through a radio for confirmation they allowed the two cars to enter and directed them on where to go.

When they get in the building it’s buzzing all around them. Crew members of both the band and the venue run past and speak into radios. They could barely make out the words combined with the faint rumble of the crowd inside. Before a security guard could ask why they were there, Y/n’s managers, Hank and Tasha Robinson noticed them and rushed over. “Pete! Great to see ya!” The pilot exchanged hugs with the couple. They then greet Bradley, who they’ve known since he was a child, and the squad, “You guys must be the pilots! It’s nice to meet you all—are you excited for the show?”

“Absolutely.” “Can’t wait!” “We’re so excited.” “Thank you for allowing us to come on such short notice.”

“You all look great!” Tasha grinned, gasping when she saw Nat’s outfit, “Oh my goodness. Hank, look! You recognize this?” Blushing immensely, Nat didn’t know how to react besides laughing nervously as they complimented her. “You look fabulous, darling.”

“Thank you. It’s an honor to wear it—I-I hope I did it justice.”

At that moment Y/n came around the corner, a slight skip in her step until she was lifted into Pete’s arms causing her to break into giggles. They hadn’t seen each other in almost two weeks while she was touring the west coast cities. It filled the squad with warmth seeing their mentor/friend so happy. Nerves filled them, they were about to meet one the greatest voices of rock music.

Mav spun Y/n around before setting her back down, the two sharing a sweet kiss. “Missed you, baby.”

“I missed you too,” he says against her lips, kissing them once more before guiding her to the group. Bradley is the first to hug Y/n, who squeals in delight since it had been months since they last saw each other.

“Hey sugar, look at you! It seems like every time I see you, you got a new look going on,” she fluffs his hair which was now lighter in tone after he got some highlights. “You look good, Roo. Is this a new shirt?” she gestures to the Hawaiian shirt beneath the leather jacket Bradley was wearing.

“Had to pull it out for the special occasion,” he gives her a sweet kiss to the cheek while handing her the bouquet of flowers he and Mav got. Thanking him, Y/n grins at the sight of the group standing behind him.

“And you fellas must be the famous dagger squad I’ve heard all about!” They were literally speechless as they stared back at the singer. She literally was what one would envision when they thought of a rockstar. Smudged eyeliner with sparkly eyeshadow framed her eyes, dark red lipstick and her outfit was black leather that showed a bit of skin due to some cutouts, but was still modest. Where the skin showed they could make out intricate tattoos and both her arms had half sleeves of ink. She had on a harness with silver chains, thigh high boots with studs along the sides.

She was THE rockstar.

Though in her late 50s, Y/n was still breathtakingly beautiful. Yeah there was some grayness to her otherwise shiny, healthy hair, and some age lines around her eyes and mouth that poked through the makeup, but Y/n could literally pass for mid to late 40s. Same with Pete who just turned 60 and looked amazing for his age. Standing next to each other, they were one hot ass couple.

“It’s so wonderful to finally meet you guys—in person now! Ah I’ve been buzzing with excitement since we got off the phone earlier,” she clapped her hands, moving to Fanboy who was internally losing it like his namesake.

“I-I hi, w-wow. I’m Mickey Garcia—or talk about irony, you may call me Fanboy. It’s an honor to meet you, Mrs. L/n—Mitchell uh-I’m sorry. I’m a big fan.”

Y/n giggled, shaking his outstretched hand before bringing him into a friendly hug. “Oh honey, I don’t even know what to call myself sometimes. But, please call me Y/n. You guys are family now.” She goes down the line to meet each pilot, shaking their hand and hugging while saying their name back to instill it in her memory. Of course she knew their names and faces from photos, but meeting them in person was completely different and Y/n wanted to make sure she would remember who was who. When she gets to Natasha’s she can’t help but shriek, “Yay you wore it! You look amazing-oh my gosh!”

“Thank you so much,” Nat blushes again, this time because the owner of said outfit she wore was gushing over her. “Thank you for letting me wear it—I will do my best to not let anything happen to it.” Y/n assures her to not worry about it and the two have the band photographer take a couple photos of them. The guys video the whole thing causing Phoenix to flip them off at times which has the married couple laugh. Soon the band comes out, causing Fanboy, Bob, and Coyote to almost lose it and before they know it everyone is conversing like it was an ordinary Friday night. Hondo, Mav, Y/n, Phoenix and Payback are off to the side with Maya, Evan, and their kids while the others are chatting with other members and their families who came to the show.

“It’s unreal to think this year marks forty-four years,” Evan said, sitting on one of the chairs with his hand on Maya’s lower back who stood beside him.

“Yeah,” she agreed with a smile, “just a group of kids we were then. With a dream only the effects of good ole weed could give us the confidence to have our asses out at that park and hope someone would hear us.”

Y/n drops her head laughing, aware of the somewhat surprised looks of the aviators and Hondo. “Wait-really?” Y/n was known for her exhilarating stage presence. She was like Elvis, Janis Joplin, and Micheal Jackson, always captivating the crowd and keeping them hype. When watching the performances it was like Y/n was in her own little world and thrived on the energy.

“It was the 70s,” she shrugged, still smiling which made her eyes crinkle. “Believe it or not we all used to have stage fright—especially in the beginning when we first started performing. We were….gosh fourteen when we signed, fifteen when we performed on Johnny Carson. Good Lord I was shaking in my boots in the dressing room,” she gave a mock shake of the shoulders, reliving the memory, “The only way I could get up there and sing was if I had smoked. Took the edge off.” Maya and Evan nodded in agreement, Y/n leaning into Maverick’s arms as he stood behind her chair. “I think it was after we toured in ‘85 for ‘Love Is The Eighth Deadly Sin,’ that I could perform without anything. Though I still did it at times,” her smile fell into more of a sad expression, adding, “and unfortunately being in the industry at that time, and being so young, we were exposed to other things.”

She didn't have to explain to the aviators, for it was public knowledge when they read up on the band during their drive that Y/n, Ronnie and Danny had admitted to experimenting in the 80s with cocaine. It was common in that era, with many artists and actors in Hollywood able to get their hands on it easily. For Y/n, it was the frontman of another rock group she’d been romantically linked to who introduced her to the drug. Thankfully nothing ever happened that caused a big scandal or had the members needing professional help. They had their family, the support of their crew and each other so they never let anyone fall too deep to where they couldn’t get back up.

“But we survived,” Maya emphasizes, beaming at her husband, “and it sure has been one hell of a ride since. I can’t wait for November—I think I’m more excited for the induction ceremony than I was for the Super Bowl.” Evan goes on to playfully reject the claim, insisting his wife was way more excited about getting that call over 20 years ago than the news just last month about the Hall of Fame.

Y/n just shakes her head with fondness, leaning more into Maverick, who kisses the top of her head.

“Brings back memories, huh? Here at the Staples Center again after so many years.”

“Yeah,” he says softly, his friends chatting with the guitarist and bassist. “I just wish Ice and Slider were here. Then it would really be a blast from the past.”

“I saw Slider when we played in Florida. He brought the whole family—it was amazing.”

“Yeah he called me afterwards. Said you guys put on the best show of the year,” his lips curled up, leaning more towards her ear, “he also told me you threw in a song in the set I was going to get a kick out of.”

Y/n mirrored his smile, eyes full of mischief, “Oh you will, but I ain’t saying nothing, hot stuff. You’ll have to wait for when it comes up.”

“Can’t wait,” he chuckles, kissing her cheek lovingly.

Roughly ten minutes later the stage manager was rushing over, “We’re down to t-minus twenty till showtime people—we gotta start clearing!” Immediately the band are hurrying to say their goodbyes. Y/n practically runs to find the person needed to take the group to their seats. When she does, they hand out the passes to each person, “Julius is going to take you all up to the room. It’s gonna be one of the VIP boxes, the closest to the stage I believe, and it should have sodas, water, alcohol, and food. But if you need anything then just run it by him.”

They all spit out words of gratitude, blown away by the special treatment they were receiving. Y/n takes her time to hug each one of the pilots, who wish her good luck and thank her again for everything. Rooster lets his hug linger a bit longer, as does Maverick who brings the woman into a passionate kiss. “Thank you for doing this, baby. I owe you.”

“It’s your birthday, Pete. You know I would do anything to make you happy,” she lowers her voice into his ear, kissing the area just below, “Sorry it couldn’t be like the good ole days when I would sneak you into my dressing for some fun.” His hands squeeze her hips, sighing at the memories as she giggled.

“There’s still the after party,” he warns her, tone thick with something she knew all too well.

“I’m well aware, hot stuff.”

They share another kiss. And another. And another before Y/n pushes him away at the teasing shouts of everyone around them, Pete bidding good luck to her and the band before he sets off with the group. Rooster nudges him, smirking at the retired pilot, “well that kiss sure would motivate anyone about to go on stage.”

“Don’t start, Bradley.”

By the time they reached the room, they could literally feel the rumble of the crowd when the lights in the arena shut off. “Holy shit,” Mickey said, the first to open the balcony door of the room where they would view the show. Inside were couches, chairs, tvs, and refreshments. Coyote had his phone out, videoing the scene for his instagram story as they all grabbed beers and water before taking spots on the balcony.

The sight was surreal. The stage was to their left and extended out, splitting the floor in half. Approximately 20,000 people could fit in the Staples Center, and from the looks of it 20,000 people were in attendance. It was a sold out show after all. People from all age groups were there. Hell Bob swore he saw some young kids on the shoulders of their parents. The most were obviously the older crowd who likely grew up in the 80s, but there were definitely college kids and Millennials.

It got louder and louder when the two minute countdown appeared on the Jumbotron, along with a video montage of the band. Some clips showed them when they were first starting out up to them preparing for the reunion tour. As it drew closer to zero, the video showed a pre-taped montage of each member taking their place on stage. Maya wrapping the strap of her bass around her shoulder, Evan with his guitar. Ronnie taking place in front of the keyboard and Danny sitting at his drums. Lastly Y/n strutted up to the microphone, the clock hitting zero the moment her hand raises in the air and the arena goes black.

Not even a second passes before Evan’s opening guitar riff sends the crowd roaring. It was the opening to, ‘Thunderstruck,’ a song that literally was in almost every modern day action movie known to man. It was hilarious to see the guys and Phoenix lose their shit, recognizing the iconic song. There was a black curtain keeping the actual stage hidden from everyone's view, but chills came onto everyone’s arms when Y/n’s voice filled their ears

“I was caught in the middle of a railroad track.” The crowd echoed the ‘Thunder,’ with the band. “I looked ‘round and I knew there was no turning back.”

“THUNDER!” The squad shouted, fist pumping and beginning to dance. Already they knew it was going to be the best night of their lives.

When the curtain gave way as Y/n hit the chorus of the song, the audience literally exploded, increasing in volume when she shouted into the mic, “Los Angeles let me hear you!!!!” The camera’s were glued to her as she strutted down the middle of the stage where it split the floor. Her voice carried with each lyric, living up to the hype and sounding as though it was still 1985.

Nat—scratch that all of the guys, especially Maverick, were in awe. Jaws dropped, except Rooster who was living his best life having experienced a Y/n & the Romantics show as a teenager. Now as an adult man the aviator was overjoyed seeing his second mom performing on stage again with her best friends.

“Cap, your wife is the coolest person on earth!” Hangman shouted against the loud music. Maverick simply beamed, eyes never leaving his wife, “I know.”

When the song came to an end, Y/n sighed lovingly, “Ahhh it’s good to be back. We’ve missed you all dearly. Did you miss us?” She paused, screams igniting before adding, “That’s what I’m talking about, baby. It’s been twenty years since we last performed here at the Staples Center in Los Angeles, and we’d like to thank you all immensely for welcoming us back. We’ve worked hard the past two years putting this show together for you, the fans. For all of you regardless if you’re just discovering us, or have been rockin since 1979.”

The energy was off the charts the entire concert. Y/n was feeding off of it on stage, and in turn her presence was feeding the crowd. In between sets she interacted with her friends/bandmates, often coming close to those on the floor to ask how they were.

“You having fun tonight?” Everyone nodded frantically, a woman close to the stage shouting, “So much fun! We love you!”

“We love you too, doll. Don’t worry the night is just getting started.” After the first couple songs Y/n informs the crowd, “I hope you all don’t mind, but as you know this is the ‘Rockin’ Down Memory Lane’ tour,” cheers erupted from every angle, “so as a treat for you fine folks this evening, we won’t just be rockin down our own memory lane. We wanna give some shoutouts to some of the greats rock music has ever seen, and some of the friends we made being a part of this world thanks to all of you. And what better way to start than by kicking it off with the song that got us discovered in the first place.”

The audience was going crazy, die hard fans knowing damn well what song the rockstar was referring to. “Whoooo!!!” Coyote felt the chills when Y/n belted out the opening of ‘Cry Baby’ by Janis Joplin. “Damn girl, sing it!” One of the hardest songs to sing, Y/n had so much emotion it nearly brought a tear to some of their eyes. Rooster brought his finger to his mouth to whistle when the song finished.

The band would do three more of their songs or a medley before covering another artist/group. “Y’all may have heard the rumor…..of the special club we’re being invited to join this fall,” Y/n smirked, hand on her hip next to Maya. Cheering indicated the crowd were aware of the news. “We’re not the only ones. Some friends of ours were also invited. You may have heard of them….Duran Duran?” She pauses to let them scream, the woman chuckling before bringing the mic back to her lips. “They just played recently at the Garden and gave a special rendition of our ‘Highway To Hell,’….so we thought to return the favor,” pausing again, Y/n nods to her band where they begin their cover of ‘Hungry Like The Wolf,’ sending the audience into a frenzy.

“I fucking love this song!!” Nat screams excitedly, passing her beer to Rooster so she could freely dance without worrying about spilling it. The outfit she wore likely cost more than her college tuition. She’d be damned if she let anything happen to it.

“Darken the city, night is a wire,” The smile never left Y/n’s face, “Steam in the subway, earth is afire.” Chills happened along her arms when the entire stadium echoed, “do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do.”

She couldn’t wait to see how the guys of Duran Duran, who she and the Romantics were lucky to call friends, react to them singing their song. On Twitter she hinted at wanting to do another collaboration after seeing the video of the band perform their ‘Highway To Hell’. In 1988 the two groups released a single together, topping the Billboard charts for nearly 30 weeks. Plus both were being inducted in November to the Rock ‘N’ Roll Hall of Fame. Surely it would the collab of the century if they did.

Halfway through the show they took an intermission. During that time everyone had a bathroom break, ate some of the food provided and grabbed more drinks. Thankfully Mav did inform them Y/n’s managers got them hotel rooms not too far from the venue so they didn’t have to worry about driving back to San Diego late. When the band returned on stage for the second half of the show it appeared they had changed outfits. Y/n now sported black leather shorts that ended midthigh with fishnets tucked into her leather knee-high boots and a cropped Def Leppard shirt. The sides were cut out showing off her lace bodysuit beneath it. They went straight into songs from their ‘Love & Thunder’ era that took place in the early 90s.

Not too long after she was flagged down by the stage manager, Rick, who was in front of the floor barricade. “What do we have here?” She hummed curiously, taking the two evelopes from him. Rick shouted that it was from the couple directly behind him, who were waving frantically at the singer. The envelop on top said ‘read first.’ Confirming she could read it aloud, Y/n brought the audience to a low tone so everyone could hear.

“Dear Y/n, Maya, Evan, Ronnie, and Danny,” she read off into the mic, glancing to her friends who appeared just as curious as her. “Our names are Damien and Alana Michaels, we’re both 31 years old and met six years ago because of our shared love for your music,” Y/n awed, beaming at the couple then laughed when the letter followed, “We met at a record store and practically fought over the last copy of your limited edition vinyl of ‘Rock n Rollin to Heaven’. We were over the moon when you announced the reunion tour and feel we’ve come full circle tonight seeing as that we fell in love because your music has been an influencial part of our lives. Alana is five months pregnant with our first child,” cheering erupted, causing Y/n to speak louder into the microphone with a giant grin, “Would you do us the honor in revealing the gender of our baby?”

Y/n let the crowd scream for a moment before calming them down again, settling her gaze on the couple, “This envelope right here,” she holds up the unopened document, “has the gender of your baby?”

“Yes!” Alana shouts in glee while Damien nods, mirroring his wife’s expression.

“Give me one moment, honey—don’t go anywhere.” The stadium watches the rockstar rush to her friends, calling them over away from the mics to have a quick chat. Opening the envelope, the camera catches their reaction for the screen and they all talk for a moment before taking back their respective places.Y/n runs over to the couple again, a little out of breath, “Alright! Alana, Damien, congratulations are in store. You are bringing a new life into the world, and the Romantics and I think the best way for you to welcome them is by singing this song when they arrive,” she then looks to the crows, “To anyone who knows the words, feel free to sing along. On three guys,” she points to her friends and counts off, “One…two…three!”

“Isn’t she lovely?” Alana visibly broke into tears while Damien jumps up and down in joy. The band where harmonizing with the frontwoman, the stadium so loud it was hard to hear at times, but thankfully the speakers were at full amp to hear them sing. The couple embraced each other, consumed with happiness at the news. “Isn’t she wonderful?”

“Isn’t she precious?” Staples Center practically echoed with 20,000 people singing Stevie Wonder’s song. Y/n grinned, loving ever second of the coordinated tune. “Less than one minute old.”

“I never thought,” Y/n belted out, “through love we’d be.”

“Making one as lovely as she.”

“But isn’t she lovely, made from love,” Drawing out the ‘love’ Y/n finished the verse by shouting against the screams, “IT’S A GIRL!” Handing back the envelope with the gender to Rick, Y/n asked if she could keep the letter to which the couple agreed. Pocketing it in her shorts, Y/n says, “Congratulations Alana and Damien! Thank you for allowing us to be a part of this exiting moment. On behalf of the Romantics and everyone in attendance, we wish you the absolute best on bringing your daughter into the world and may she be blessed with joy all her life….and maybe unleash her inner rockstar from time to time,” laughter erupted, “give it up for Alana, Damien, and Baby girl Michaels!!”

Fifteen more minutes pass of the band performing their songs before taking a five minute break to set up for their next cover.

“Alright,” Y/n takes a breath, walking down the end of the extended stage. “This next trip down memory lane, has me want to ask you all a question. Ready to hear it?” When they respond with an echo, ‘yes!!’ Y/n allows the smirk to appear, “Do you guys have that one song…that you would call, your stripper song?” A laugh escapes her by the increase in volume from the sold out arena. She could just picture what looks her husband received from his former students. “You know that one song that has you thinking, ‘Gosh give me a pole and I will work it better than anyone has before,’ that kind of song?” Y/n stops halfway through the long stretch of platform, glancing around to the various sections of people.

“I would like to sing for you my stripper song—o-oh okaaaay that’s a nice reaction,” she chuckled, winking at a few spectators on the floor who were like, ‘Hell yeah!’ Pointing a finger out to a random direction, she says with a knowing look, “Now if this happens to be your stripper song too, don’t you get naked—this ain’t that kind of show,” laughter fills her ears, “Plus there's children here tonight, so technically this is a family show. So I would like to apologize now to the parents, but then again, this is a fucking rock show,” the cheers escalated, agreeing with the woman on what she was about to say, “So if you didn’t want them to see us in our element, you should’ve left them at home. But please, for the love of God, keep your clothes on if this song happens to get you in the same mood it gets me. Ready guys!”

“We're ready, babe!” Maya shouts with Evan, Danny and Ronnie giving a thumbs up.

“Step inside!” Y/n yells into the mic.

“Walk this way!” They shout into their own.

“You and me babe!”

“Hey! Hey!”

unworldly, was the way best to describe the Staples Center when the opening chords of Def Leppard’s ‘Pour Some Sugar On Me,’ sounded through the speakers. No wonder she wore the band’s shirt, hinting they were going to cover one of their songs at some point. Fans went crazy when Y/n did some of her iconic moves like crawling on the floor, flipping her hair back and forth and even usuing the mic stand as though it was a pole. She was in her element, the stage was truly where she shined.

Some of the guys were hollaring, patting Maverick on the back with knowing looks. The older man was blushing mad when they realized something was on his mind with the way he was staring at his wife. It didn’t help Y/n was biting her lip, running her hands along her body during the ‘Sugar me sweet,’ line. The camera was glued to her the entire performance.

“I know that look!” Hangman pointed out the Captain’s expression.

“Yeah, Mav, if you plan to sneak off to the dressing room after the show, don’t worry we won’t say anything.”

The band went straight into ‘Hollywood Nights,’ by Bob Seger as way to pay homage to the fact they were performing in Los Angeles, Hollywood not too far away. Jake was a big fan of the song and Rooster videoed the pilot dancing his heart out, spinning Nat around at times as they belted the lyrics.

Coming down to the final 30 minutes of the show, Y/n called the crowds attention, “This next song….is dedicated to someone very special in the audience. He’s turning 60 tomorrow and I’m celebrating twenty years of marriage with him in October.” Her smile became wider at the cheers, walking to the side of the stage closest to where Pete and the gang were.

“That’s you, my man!” Rooster playfully shakes Mav, the squad cheering when the camera pans to him. Giving a little wave, Pete blows a kiss to Y/n, who pretends to catch it.

“Captain Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell everyone,” she pauses lightly, “With him tonight is someone who is practically our son—Lord knows I treat him like one,” Rooster does a little dance, the camera zooming out from Mav to capture the aviator next to him. “And some of his former students, the Navy’s finest fighter pilots, who I like to call his, ‘Dagger ducklings.’” The squad awed at the nickname, Fanboy and Coyote hugging up on the man.

“Does this mean you’re our papa duck, Mav?”

“Imma let y’all in on a little secret,” Y/n leans into the mic with a whisper, “That whole thing about us breaking up in the 90s? Yeah, it didn’t happen.” Laughing, Y/n stands back straight, “Right now I’m feeling a little sentimental. Pete and I actually met at a bar about two blocks away after we played here in 1989. It was there he….to put it lightly, swooned me like nobody had ever done before.” Dropping his head onto the railing, Pete’s shoulders shook as he laughed, the memory of that night replaying in his mind. “Maya knows what I’m talking about.”

“Sure do,” the bassist replied. “I think he put on better show than we did.”

“Oh God,” Maverick put a hand to his mouth to cover his grin. So many emotions were flooding him. Mostly warmth, but a tad of embarrassment.

If only Ice and Goose were here to see this.

“He sure did. And tonight I wanna take him and I down memory lane. So ladies and gentlemen, this is for anyone who’s lost that lovin’ feeling.”

Words couldn’t describe what Pete felt listening to Y/n sing, ‘You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feeling.’ Maya and Ronnie provided the back up vocals, harmonizing with Y/n during the chorus. The entire time she sang Y/n was swaying and keeping her body faced to the section Pete was at. The two connected eyes at times, lost in each other’s gaze causing the two to feel the love radiate one another.

She sounded so beautiful. Of course it was well known Y/n was very versatile with her music and voice. She could take it high and low, mellowing out for a slow tune. There was a lot of soul in her and the band, which is not surprising since they starting in Atlanta. They grew up on blues, jazz, and classic rock. Inspired by the greats like Billie Holiday, B.B King, Janis Joplin, Elvis, Little Richard, and the Mama’s & Papas.

Pete cheered the loudest in their group when the song came to end, whistling along with Rooster. Y/n blew him a kiss, “Never lose that lovin’ feeling with me, honey.”

Not too long after it came time for the final number. “Imma need ‘Dirty Diana’ for this one,” Y/n announced, moving to the middle of the stage where the mic stand was. A crew member appeared from the side, handing over a neon green Fender Stratocaster. She pulled the strap over her shoulder, “Los Angeles, as we come to tonight’s closing I want you to know you all have, without a doubt, been the best crowd ever. L.A, you know how to bring the energy and we can’t thank you enough for what a blast it’s been playing for you all. What a way to end our tour—can’t believe it’s already over, but fear not…we’re not going anywhere anytime soon.”

Evan, Maya, Ronnie, and Danny all say a few words, then they all thank their managers, crew, friends, and family for allowing them to put on a great show. Lastly they thank the fans in an tearfelt speach, finishing it off telling everyone to have a safe journey back home and to keep rockin n rolling. Y/n closes it out with, “Los Angeles sing this last one with us. It’s been a long way to the top,” the screams got louder, “but worth every damn second.”

Staples Center erupted, Y/n letting her hands work magic on the guitar as she played the opening riff of ‘It’s A Long Way To The To (If You Wanna Rock ‘N’ Roll) .’ Then Evan came in his riffs followed by Danny’s drums. Maya and Y/n banged their head together, leaning toward one as they feed off each other’s energy.

“Oh shit!” Payback whistled, shaking his shoulder along to the beat. This was a song he used to dance to in college with his buddies. It brought back memories for the pilot, nostalgia filling him just like it was to many in the crowd.

Pretty much everyone shouted the lyrics in the chorus, one of the most recognizable ones in music history.

“It’s a long way to the top if you wanna rock ‘n’ roll!”

It went crazy during Y/n’s solo that had all the pilot’s, minus Mav & Rooster, jaws drop. The entire show she hadn’t played the guitar much save for maybe two songs, but it was not to the absolute greatness she was displaying now. Evan guitar solos were off the chain, as were Danny’s drums. Then they had Ronnie tearing it up on the keys with Maya crowning herself the queen of the bass. The voice of the band, Y/n showed she was as talented with the instrument as she was putting lyrics to paper and belting them out for her heart’s desire.

They truly were one of the greatest rock bands to exist.

Even after the song ended they were going hard on the instruments, finishing the show with a literally bang. Lights were flashing, every single person on their feet, Danny and Evan hitting one last solo and instilling the moment as one for the history books.

“Thank you, Los Angeles!! We’ll see you next time! Good night and keep on rockin’!!”

11:58 pm, two blocks away at Melvin’s Planet Enterprise Bar

“Feels like deja vu,” Y/n laughed, dancing with Pete to the tune of ‘When Doves Cry’ in the familiar bar. Though it had a new name and owner, it still gave the same effect as it did in 1989. This time, however, there were posters of Y/n & the Romantics, one of which was signed and framed just above the jukebox playing classic hits and even some of theirs.

Y/n had changed out of her clothes again, wearing black jeans and tank top with a blue leather jacket that had studs and chains attached to the sides. Her makeup had been touched up, hair pulled in a ponytail. It was almost comical how the scene was just like that night in ‘89 with blue strobe lights shining down on them, making her look illuminated.

The dagger squad were in their own little world, dancing and drinking with each other and the band’s crew members. Jake was getting along quite well with someone from Y/n’s glam team, Nat chatting with a member of the security. Then there was Coyote dancing with the oldest daughter of Maya and Evan. They had rented out the place after the show, everyone hauling ass to celebrate the end of the tour. All grown up, the children of the Romantics could enjoy the night as well, not having to worry about being underage now that the youngest of the bunch had turned 21 the previous month.

When they arrived the party was in full blast, Rooster pulling Y/n to the dance floor to share a dance. Then they duetted ‘Great Balls of Fire,’ with him on the piano. Everyone sang at the top of their lungs. Pete held Y/n, head banging with her at the ‘Mine! Mine! Mine!’ bit and sneaking kisses during, ‘kiss me, baby!’

When her feet started to hurt from standing, Y/n sat in Pete’s lap and nursed a cocktail while they chatted with Hondo and Ronnie’s wife. Over in a corner Bob was on the phone with his family after his sister saw Phoenix’s instagram story, “You saw Y/n & the Romantics tonight!?! How the hell did you manage to get tickets—they were sold out!”

“Uhh….you remember my instructor from that mission awhile back? Turns out he’s marrried to Y/n L/n.”

“WHAT!?! Pete Mitchell was your instructor!?” Bob swore his mother about went into cardiac arrest, screaming when Y/n appeared on screeen after he politely asked if she would mind saying hello to his mother. The rockstar of course said yes, she loved interacting and meeting supporters. They were the reason she got to live her dream. Bob nearly cried seeing his mother in tears, overcome with emotion at the fact she was meeting her favorite singer of all time. After the call ended Y/n gave the WSO a tour program she had all the members sign, “give this to your momma for me. Tell her I hope to see her on the next tour.”

The dagger squad were literally becoming Y/n’s adoptive children by the second. Mickey couldn’t believe he got her to do a tiktok with him, then she had a shot of tequila with Reuben. As Nat danced the woman hyped her up with Maya and she had a semi dance off with Javy. Throughout the night stories were told about meeting Princess Diana in 1995, playing in New York on New Year’s Eve of 1999, the Super Bowl, and their iconic performance at the first MTV video music awards in 1984. They were like children gathered by the Christmas tree listening to her read a book. All they could think was how cool she was and the fact the band had truly changed the world of music over their spand of 40 years.

Prince’s iconic ‘When Doves Cry’ started to play just before midnight and it was like slow motion for the rockstar, moving to her husband who was already staring at her with the same expression. Now they really were back in 1989.

“It does,” Mav beamed at his wife, the song hitting it’s second verse. “Only thing missing are the cameras flashing, Ice and Slider sending me a thumbs up, and jealous looks from patrons.” His words make her giggle, throwing her head back slightly.

“Ice is definitely giving you a thumbs up with Goose,” her voice turns soft, stroking the side of his neck, “Bradley’s got his phone out. No doubt videoing us as I speak. He knows how significant this song is.”

“Remind me to have him send me it,” he tells her, dipping her suddenly causing her to squeal. Lips press to her cheek when he pulls her back up.

“Wanna know something though, hot stuff?”

“What?”

The light hitting her eyes shows off the mischief matching her smirk, “This time ‘round, you won’t just be getting a kiss goodnight. You actually get to take me home.” Thank god the lighting hid the color of his face, otherwise she would get a good look at how red it was.

It didn’t stop her from seeing the smile however, Mav shaking his head playfully. He didn’t have to reply for her to know what he was thinking. Just his laugh was enough.

As the clock stuck midnight, Y/n brought him into a sweet kiss, “Happy Birthday, Pete. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, baby. Thank you.”

The rest of the night was filled with celebration, not just for the epic end of the tour and impending induction as Rock ‘N’ Roll hall of famers, but also the life of the Navy’s most famous pilot. Until it came time to leave, not a single minute was wasted in having the best night of their lives.

All of which happened because two souls decided to go to the same bar after a concert. One a spectator, the other the performer. Both who made names of themselves in their own right, embedding their legacy forever for generations to come. It took a hell of a time to do it, but as one knows….it’s a long way to the top you wanna rock ‘n’ roll.

……………………

TGM tag list: @avaleineandafryingpan, @caitsymichelle13, @poppyalice2001, @cutelittlepotatofry

The One… Masterlist

Synopsis: Two weeks before the particle accelerator exploded, two best friends, Barry and Y/N, had a drunken one night stand, leading to a child. Now almost 4 years later, Team Flash meets their future legacies, both of which are trying to change the future for very different reasons. COMPLETED

… Who Learned

… Who remembered

… Who was forgotten

… With the legacies

… With Power

… Where You Bleed Out

(Alternative endings?)

the rainfall series masterlist

bradley bradshaw x reader;

two weeks in an all-inclusive resort in bali; what could go wrong? a phone call and a plane back to fightertown, that’s what. who knew that so much could change because of one mission.

series warnings;

swearing, canon typical injury, parent loss/grief, mental health issues (read the warnings at the beginning of each chapter for more depth) disclaimer: i know nothing about planes/the navy so this may not be real life accurate.

playlists;

listen while reading for an extra level of immersion , i also just love making playlists ok , playlist is available only on spotify <3

bradley ( i watched top gun now i’m in love with bradley “rooster” bradshaw )

jake ( jake seresin is just a hookup but god he’s pretty )

part one

you’d always had a thing for your best friend. this mission didn’t help.

part two

you and bradley should’ve been in bali right now; but no, you were ten thousand feet in the air, sweating your ass off.

part three

a girl, the boy she loves, and another girl walk into a bar. wait - where’s the joke?

part four

this was the mission someone wasn’t coming back from; you were sure of it. you just hoped to god it wasn’t the man you loved.

part five

there was always going to be a final mission. maybe this was yours, maybe it was bradley’s. only time can tell.

part six

coming soon

part seven

coming soon

Baby and Pregnancy prompts

Summary: some prompts of the reader pregnant or funny moment with the baby featuring: Bob, Hangman, Rooster, Iceman, Maverick and Slider.

I found some prompts and fell in love with them but couldn't chose which one to do or with who so enjoy multiple stories all at once, it may be a bit of a mess! Honour goes to the people that wrote those prompts!

Trying to figure out the baby's gender by analyzing their symptoms with old wives' tales – Bob

“Bobby where are you?”, you yell through the house as you leave the bathroom.

“In the living room sweetheart.”, you smile at the sound of his voice, having missed him during his two weeks mission.

“There you are my dear husband.”, Bob has a bright smile as you appear and immediately brings you into his arms on the couch, carefully kissing your forehead.

“What are you reading?”, your husband blushes a bit and it makes you even more interested in finding out just what he was reading.

“I was talking to Mayhem, and he told me that his wife and him looked at old wives’ tales to figure out the gender of their baby.”, he says slightly embarrassed, and you chuckle before kissing him quickly on the lips. One of your hands is rubbing your growing stomach, you were nearing the three months and you both couldn’t wait to find out the gender.

“Want to see if we can figure it out before the ultrasound in two weeks?”, Bob’s bright grin was the only answer you needed as he quickly nodded, excited.

“Let me see what we can find out.”, you chuckled at the sight of your husband so focused on finding a good question that would figure out if it was a boy or a girl.

“Alright, first thing.”, Bob turns to look at you and you put yourself comfortably on the other side of the couch with your feet on Bob’s lap, enjoying the soft massage he had started.

“Are your cravings more sweet or salty?”, that was a good question and although you had always been more of a sweet person, these last two months you had been eating a lot of salty things.

“Strangely more salty things, normally I’m more of a sweet tooth but baby Floyd seems to like salty things.”, Bob’s smiles was bright as he looked at you and turned into a loving one as he looks at your bump.

“Now, this is a strange one but there could be a difference if I put weight alongside you.”, this made you laugh and Bob started laughing as well, this man went on a run every day much to your sadness as it meant less cuddles but that proved that Bob hadn’t taken an ounce of weight.

“We can cross that one out.”, Bob sends you a wink and you smile tenderly at him as he writes something down before getting to the third question.

“Are you moody or more relaxed?”, he seems scared to answer the question and you rolled your eyes fondly at you husband.

“I don’t know, I mean I’m more emotional but I’m not exactly crying all the time. You were after all the one that cried when we watched Nemo.”, Bob looks scandalized, and you giggle softly.

“His mother dies! I’m only human.”, you are now full on laughing while Bob huffs and you go closer to Bob unable to hide the smile.

“You are right darling, so I think that to answer your question I am more relaxed.”, Bob nods and writes something down, moving the paper so that you couldn’t see it making you pout.

“This question is a bit weird but are you carrying low or high?”, his eyebrows are furrowed like he is trying to solve a math problem and you feel equally confused.

“Well, the baby is low in my stomach, but I think that is always the case. Why don’t we skip that one.”, Bob nods and looks at the next question he wants to ask while rubbing your feet’s.

“The next one is, are you glowing or are you looking more pale and tired.”, you scoff and Bob snorts at your reaction.

“So, Bob, do I look like shit or not? What a question is that.”, Bob starts to laugh, and you slap his arm and the WSO quickly recovers giving you a quick peck on the lips before looking at you with utter love in his eyes.

“You always look beautiful, but people have been saying that you are glowing.”, you can’t help the blush that appears at Bob’s words and kiss him on the cheek. 

“True, although aren’t you supposed to glow when your pregnant?”, Bob laughs at your annoyance at the question and continues.

“I guess not. A last thing we can do is the ring test, you put a ring on a cord and how it moves will tell us what the gender is.”, you look at Bob impressed and let him go and take a piece of cord that is laying around and take of his wedding ring.

The ring doesn’t move first as you lay down on the couch with Bob above you until it starts moving in circles and your eyes widen just like Bob.

“Holy shit.”, the both of you whisper and look at each other in awe.

“Well judging by all of those answer we are having a”, Bob tries to put some suspense but at your raised eyebrows he chuckles and finally reveals the gender.

“A boy.”, he whispers softly, his forehead against yours and you can’t help but smile.

“You better be right Mr Floyd or I’m going to get my hopes up for nothing.”, he chuckles lightly and kisses you lovingly.

“Don’t worry Mrs Floyd, I’m always right.”, you snort at that, and Bob starts to tickle you as punishment making you laugh even harder.

"I feel like a fat cow." "Well, you're the most beautiful cow." - Maverick

Getting pregnant was a wonderful thing, but the one thing you hadn’t expected as much was getting this big during your pregnancy. Your first three months had been filled with morning sickness and cravings while your second trimester was filled with wanting to climb Maverick like tree, not that the man was complaining.

Now in your third trimester you were really getting bigger and as much as you loved the thought of your baby growing there you couldn’t help but feel conscious of the way you looked. 

Maverick had gone to buy the crib for the baby’s room with Ice, they had painted yesterday, and the soft green room looked beautiful. Ice could somehow paint and had painted some little F-14’s on the wall making Maverick grumble about how perfect he always was before receiving a bit of paint in his face from Ice. You had to try and not laugh at Maverick’s scandalized face and Ice’s mischievous grin.

The both of them arrived, bickering as always and Maverick quickly kissed your lips before going up to build the crib with Ice. It seemed to be going well before you heard some swearing and a laugh that could only be from Ice. You thought of going up but another round of swearing followed this time from Ice and you decided to stay in the living room enjoying Maverick’s laughter.

Ice stayed for dinner, and you had tried to make something light for dinner, to maybe be careful of what you were eating and lose a bit of the weight you were putting on. Maverick had furrowed his eyebrows while Ice had just sat down and thanked you for the food before leaving to go back home.

“Sweetheart?”, you turned around from putting the last things into the fridge at Maverick’s voice and he looked at you with concerned green eyes while leaning against the door.

“What is it handsome?”, you asked after a few seconds of silence and he sighed while looking around the kitchen, he often did that when he was trying to find a way to say things.

“You know that you are the most beautiful woman in the world, right?”, you looked at him in surprise before snorting.

“I look like a fat cow.”, you said followed with a chuckle and you quickly felt the strong arms of Maverick around you.

“Well, you’re the most beautiful cow.”, you couldn’t help the laugh that came at his words, but it turned into tears making Maverick worried and he turned you around.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what is happening.”, Maverick looks at you with a soft smile and wipes your tears away. 

“Don’t worry, although I think you know what the matter is.”, he has a knowing look in his eyes and you sigh, your husband knew you too well.

“I feel like I’m so big ever since the pregnancy and”, you can’t finish your sentence as Maverick kisses you deeply and you respond quickly.

“You are the most gorgeous pregnant woman I know, and you are perfect the way you are. Do you know how many times I want to drag you into our bedroom and ravish you?”, a blush appears, and you kiss Pete with all you have enjoying the feeling of his body against yours.

“You may be bigger than before but that is because you are carrying our child and you don’t know how proud I am of calling you, my wife. You are perfect just the way you are love, don’t change a thing.”, you can’t help the tears that come up at his words and Pete smiles lovingly before a smirk appears.

“Now, I’m going to show you just how much I love you.”, he picked you up and you started laughing but your laugh was quickly stopped by a moan as Pete dragged you to your room.

Person B – being usually the stoic one – somehow managing to evoke a laughing fit in the baby – Ice

It had been six months since you came back from the hospital with a beautiful baby girl who looked just like her father, with his striking blue eyes. Ice loved spending time with his daughter when he got home from work and adored her like she was the most precious thing on earth. She was definitely a daddy’s girl and Ice prided himself with it making you chuckle every time. 

Ice had to go back to Top Gun for a meeting, but he had forgotten his lunch, so you decided to bring it to him and bringing your daughter along for the ride. She had been babbling in the back of the car as you approached the base and was looking in wonder outside of the car. You picked her up and just as you were ready to go, she let out a small shriek and you turned around to see a plane taking of and a toothy grin appeared on her face. She really was her father daughter you thought shaking your head fondly.

The Dagger squad had been training this month and Ice had a mission for them, but he needed to review it before telling Maverick about it. It was probably stupid to think you wouldn’t meet any of them on the way to your husband’s office and just as you turned the corner you were met with the whole squad chatting.

“Isn’t it my favorite niece.”, you heard Rooster exclaim and you had to stop yourself from laughing as the grown man started babbling to the 6-month-old baby. The rest quickly joined him and started trying to make her laugh, but it was in vain. 

They had been trying to make her laugh for the last two weeks, but it seemed like it wasn’t working for the moment. Maverick joined them quickly wondering where they were and when he saw his goddaughter a bright smile appeared.

“There is my favorite Kazansky, how are you pretty girl?”, she started babbling in Maverick’s arms and the man was nodding along seriously like he was having a real conversation.

“What am I hearing about a favorite Kazansky?”, a wide smiled appeared as you felt Ice’s arms around your waist and Maverick looked at Ice unimpressed.

“She is cuter than you, get over it.”, Ice rolls his eyes, and you chuckle before Ice looks at his daughter with a wide smile.

“Your godfather is a bit of an idiot, isn’t he?”, you expected your daughter to babble or just try to go in her father’s arms, but she suddenly started giggling and everyone was surprised.

Ice looked stunned and you also started laughing at Maverick’s and Ice’s twin expression of shock, the Dagger squad also erupted in laughter.

“See, she agrees with me. Don’t you? Maverick is an idiot.”, she starts giggling again and Ice is smirking at his wingmen who is looking at your daughter in betrayal.

“How dare you? This is a betrayal!”, however his betrayed look doesn’t last long as she continues to giggle, and Maverick can’t stop the smile that appears before giving her back to Ice.

“I can’t believe Iceman managed to make her laugh!”, Ice looks at them with a winning smile before taking your hand and leading you towards his office. You daughter waving back at the Dagger squad as you left.

having the baby wear matching clothes with them – Goose

“Goose, we need to leave in ten minutes are you ready?”, you yelled through the house, wondering where your husband and son went.

“Just a minute sweet cheek.”, you rolled your eyes at the nickname but couldn’t stop the smile that appeared.

You started checking if you had everything to go to Ice’s house for the monthly barbecue with the class of ’86. All of Bradley’s stuff where there with an extra set of clothes if something happens. Just as you were wondering where your husband was you heard footsteps and a second later, he was there. Even years later Goose still wore his Hawaiian shirts and even though they sometimes looked ridiculous, it was still what made him Goose and you wouldn’t trade them for the world.

What you hadn’t expected to see was your son with a matching Hawaiian shirt, white undershirt and little jeans. They looked like twins with 30 years of age difference. You couldn’t stop looking at them in surprise and Goose chuckled.

“So, what do you think?”, you let out a soft laugh and looked at the two most important men of your life.

“You two are a sight for sore eyes.”, this made Goose smile proudly and Bradley followed his dad and babbled a few words.

“Now we only need to find you a matching shirt and we will all be matching. Isn’t that a great idea Bradley?”, he asks as he tickles your son’s side and the baby babbles happily making Goose look at you with a smirk. You on the other side didn’t feel reassured at all, as much as Goose loved those, they would certainly look like shit on you.

“No way, I draw the line there.”, Goose pouts but you know that he will bring the idea back tonight and everyday if he has too until you give in. You feel his body against your back and his arm around your waist as you pick up Bradley’s bag. 

“Ready to go beautiful?”, you nodded and took Bradley into your arms while Goose went to put everything in the car. 

“Don’t you look handsome?”, Bradley has a wide grin, and you can’t help but blow a few raspberries making him laugh. Goose looks at you with a loving grin and takes the opportunity to kiss you longingly before taking you to the car.

You quickly arrive at Ice’s house and start to wonder how the others will react at Bradley and Goose’s matching outfits. Just as you are ready to go to the backyard Goose stops you and after looking at him puzzled, he takes out mini aviator sunglasses out his pocket and puts them on Bradley before putting his on. 

“You really thought about this for far too long darling.”, Goose laughs before taking your hand and leading you to the backyard. 

Everyone seems to be there, and you have to stop yourself from laughing at Maverick’s reaction when he sees your husband and son.

“Goose, what did you do? You gave him your bad taste in clothes.”, you can’t help the snort and Goose rolls his eyes playfully while the rest turn around to look at the commotion.

Slider spits out the beer he was drinking while Ice is laughing at his place at the barbecue, Hollywood and Wolfman are shaking their head fondly while Merlin is looking in shock.

“Please, you are just jealous of how great we look.”, everyone starts to laugh, and they start to talk to Bradley with their baby voices and a lot of pictures are taken during the afternoon.

wait a minute. heartbeats?! plural?! we’re having twins/triplets/etc?! - Rooster

It had been a month since you had found out you were pregnant, and you were finally going to the doctor to see how the baby was doing and if everything was going accordingly. Bradley had taken the day of and had been like an excited puppy since this morning. 

Bradley was probably the most excited parent in the waiting room as he had a bright smile and was telling everyone he was having a child, making a few people chuckle at his excitement. 

“Mrs Bradshaw?”, you take Bradley’s hand in yours and lead him towards the designated room where he quickly sits down on the chair next to the bed.

“How is everything going? No complication?”, you shake your head while Bradley looks a bit curious around.

“Everything is going well, just cravings but otherwise no morning sickness.”, the doctor nods and starts to put the gel on the small bump.

“This is going to be cold.”, Bradley takes your hand in his and you smile softly at him, squeezing his hand reassuringly.

“You can hear the heartbeats of the baby’s right now.”, you were so engrossed by the image and the sound that you didn’t paid attention to what she said exactly but Bradley apparently did as he was hanging onto every word she was saying.

“Wait a minute. Heartbeats?! Plural?!”, you looked at him surprised while he looked like he was ready to faint, and you turned back to your doctor who was chuckling.

“Yes plural, congratulations you are having twins.”, shock couldn’t even describe what you were feeling, and Bradley seemed to disfunction at the words.

“Twins? Two babies? Holy shit.”, you slapped his arm, and he quickly apologizes to the doctor making her laugh. 

“That is going to be quite the adventure.”, you can’t help but whisper and Bradley has a bright smile.

“We are having twins! Are they identical?”, his excitement is only bigger now, and you can’t help the utter love that you feel for this man.

“They are identical.”, the both of you smile widely at each other and you start to feel emotional at the thought.

Your doctor starts telling you what you need to take and do and after a few minutes she lets you get your clothes back on. Bradley still seems stuck on the fact that you are having twins.

You leave the doctor’s office with a smiling Bradley and as you leave the waiting room you hear Bradley say.

“We are having twins!”, the people must look at him like he is crazy, but another man screams congratulations and Bradley couldn’t be happier.

Your child's been kicking me all day." "Oh, so now it's my child? - Slider

As much as you loved feeling your baby move and feeling him kick, it was starting to get on your nerves as it was three in the morning and your son didn’t seem to want to sleep. Your husband was fast asleep after a long day of training while you were huffing looking at your bump willing your baby to finally settle down and let you sleep. 

After a minute you didn’t feel anything anymore and you happily thought that your son was finally done but just as you got settled down you felt a strong kick. Goddamnit that kid really was his father’s child.

It had started this morning when Slider left for work and somehow your little guy had decided that he was doing some sort of sport in there as he constantly moved and kicked often. Now you love to feel him move and it always made your heart flutter at the sight of his little feet kicking but now it was starting to annoy you. 

You feel Slider’s arm bringing you closer and you sigh softly at the touch before another kick was felt and you grumbled, waking up your husband. He looked confused for a moment at the fact that he was awake and looked at you with sleepy eyes and his bed hair.

“Everything alright? You have a craving?”, he quickly asks, and you feel your annoyance melt at the sight of his worried eyes, but a sudden kick makes you think back to why you were annoyed.

“Your child’s been kicking me all day”. You say grumbling and Slider can’t help chuckling, but he stops at your raised eyebrows.

“Oh, so now it’s my child.”, he says with a teasing smile, and you roll your eyes.

“This can only be a Kerner trait, I’m telling you.”, your husband laughs and kisses you lovingly before caressing your bump lovingly.

“I think he got it from his mother.”, you snort and enjoy having Slider caress your bump and side making you relax more.

“That is a lie.”, he nods seriously but a smile appears, and you let out a laugh quickly followed by your husband.

It’s only a few moments later that you realize that you haven’t felt a kick in a while, you look down at your bump while Slider kisses your shoulder and neck softly while caressing your leg. 

“I know what you are doing there.”, you can feel his smirk on your skin, and he drops a few more kisses before looking at you with his most innocent smile.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”, after raising your eyebrows you see him give in and he kisses you passionately making butterflies erupt in your stomach.

“He seems to have settled down.”, you whisper and Slider smiles softly at you before looking at your bump.

“Looks like it.”, you smile at each other for a few seconds before you start yawning and Slider laughs quietly.

“Common lets sleep.”, you settle in Slider’s arms and finally fall asleep as you settle in bed with your husband holding you.

I'm starting to feel like this baby will have a lot of aunts and uncles. - Hangman

Jake wanted to tell the Dagger squad that you were pregnant in a spectacular way, because ‘we aren’t going to do it like everyone’ he said.

So now you found yourself waiting for your husband as he finished his last hop of the day and you waited for him to arrive. You had gone to Penny to ask for help on revealing your pregnancy and after a long hug and a lot of congratulations you started planning your reveal.

You had found labels that you could personalize, and Penny just had to put them on a beer bottle and give them to the Dagger Squad, for Bob it would be on a soda bottle. Penny had assured you that it wasn’t an issue as she loved the idea and quickly hid the labels. 

Jake finally arrives with a bright smile and kisses you like a starving man making the other whistle at the two of you. 

“We know she is your wife Hangman, no need to make a show of it every time.”, Rooster yells and Jake ignores him as you laugh.

“Ready for the surprise?”, he is smirking, and a mischievous grin can be seen in his green eyes.

“I was born ready.”, the both of you smirk at each other before leaving towards the Hard Deck and joining the others around the pool table. Maverick and Ice have joined them, and they are all chattering.

“Penny told us that she would bring us some new beers she bought.”, Fanboy tells them with a smile, and you have to hide you smile at the thought of what they were going to get.

Penny arrives and you can see that she is trying not to spoil the surprise as she smiles widely.

“There you go, do tell me what you think about it.”, the aviators quickly take a beer and some of them take a sip before Phoenix lets out a surprised scream.

“You are pregnant?!”, she seems shocked, and you laugh at her reaction while the rest looks at her puzzled.

“Baby Hangman coming soon in the air.”, she reads out loud and everyone looks at their label, a look of understanding passing through.

“Holy shit.”, you hear most of them whisper and you feel Jake’s arm around your waist.

Phoenix is the first to congratulate you and she takes you into a bear hug and tells Jake that he better be on his best behavior before hugging him too. The rest of the group follows with hugs and Coyote glares at Jake before hugging him hard.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me before the others.”, Jake smiles widely and pats Coyote on the shoulder.

“Where would the fun be in that.”, Coyote rolls his eyes but brings you into a hug congratulating you. Rooster wishes you a lot of courage and patience, managing to avoid Jake’s napkin that is thrown at him and everyone laughs.

The whole group is talking about the baby, and you quickly realize something.

“I'm starting to feel like this baby will have a lot of aunts and uncles.”, Jake laughs at that and brings you closer.

“That baby is going to have so many uncles and aunts it’s going to be spoiled rotten.”, you laugh and settle into Jake’s embrace enjoying the sight of your friends arguing about who would be godfather and godmother.

Sexiest man alive’s photographer wife pt.l

Chris Evans is to be named People’s 2022 sexiest man alive, what he and his wife don’t know is that his photographer for the magazine is his very own wife. Who better to give the smoldering sexy look to than his wife?

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

“Yes I am still scrambling around London trying to make it back in time for Miles birthday party. The models I’m dealing with here believe I’m a complete ninny. If only they knew the real stars I’ve photographed. Tell me why I agreed to this shoot again?”

He smiles on the other end of the video chat saying “It was something new. You wanted to broaden your portfolio.”

I grumble saying “Biggest mistake ever. Never let me make another like this okay?”

He chuckles saying “I think you’ve spent too much time in Europe, you’re beginning to speak like them. Ninny? What does that even mean?”

I stifle a laugh saying “Gah.. I’m so sorry. I should be home. With you and Dodger. Not here.”

“Hey, we understand. You’re killing it there and we’re couch potatoes while you’re gone. After shooting I’m exhausted.”

I nod saying “How’s the shooting for the red one going?”

“Good. I love Dwayne. I know I said I didn’t know if he’d be weird but he’s so funny and so nice. You’d love him. You need to meet him soon.”

“I’ll be home soon. And I won’t leave again, for as long as humanly possible.”

He nods saying “Sounds like the best idea you’ve ever had.”

I shake my head saying “You look tired. I am screwing up your sleep routine calling you this late. I hate this stupid time difference.”

He shakes his head saying “I can’t and will not go to sleep until we have our nightly calls. You know that.”

I frown and say “Sometimes I hate my job.”

“But, you love it. You know that.”

Keep reading

FUCKING AEMOND SPEAKING HIGH VALYRIAN

like im supposed to be scared or idk but im actually hrny

𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐲, 𝐢 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 

𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵 ☾ 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘶𝘴 𝘭𝘶𝘱𝘪𝘯 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

chapters inspired by lyrics from "willow" (taylor swift)

incomplete! current w/c: 31.2k

you and the marauders become animagi for remus, despite his protests. you'd follow him anywhere: through the tunnel under the whomping willow, during hospital wing overnights, and even within a burgeoning war. you ruined every one of remus' plans, but it saved his life. (slow burn, angst)

dedicated to the wonderful @emmaev

series playlist

･ﾟ⋆☾*･ﾟ.・。.*゜✭・･ﾟ✫・⋆。.

➊ 𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚔𝚗𝚒𝚏𝚎

➋ 𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚎

➌ 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚒 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠

➍ 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚍

➎ 𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚊 𝚖𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐

➏ 𝚒'𝚖 𝚋𝚎𝚐𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍, 𝚠𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚔 𝚖𝚢 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚜

➐ 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚎

➑ 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚐𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚜

➒ 𝚒 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍'𝚟𝚎 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚘𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎

➓ 𝚑𝚎𝚢, 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚖𝚊𝚗

𝘛𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘱

𝖲𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒: 𝖶𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾-𝗍𝗎𝗋𝗇𝖾𝗋 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗄𝗌, 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝟨𝗍𝗁 𝗒𝖾𝖺𝗋 𝗈𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇. 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝖽𝗂𝖿𝖿𝖾𝗋𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾? 𝖨𝗍’𝗌 𝟣𝟫𝟩𝟨. 𝖲𝗍𝗎𝖼𝗄 𝗂𝗇 𝖺 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽𝗇’𝗍 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝖻𝖾 𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗂𝗇, 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝗅𝖾𝗇𝖽 𝗂𝗇, 𝖺𝗇𝗑𝗂𝗈𝗎𝗌𝗅𝗒 𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝖾𝖾 𝗂𝖿 𝖣𝗎𝗆𝖻𝗅𝖾𝖽𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝗁𝖾𝗅𝗉 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝗁𝗈𝗆𝖾. 𝖳𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗀𝗈𝖾𝗌 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗇𝖽𝗈𝗐 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖾𝗒𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝖺 𝖼𝖾𝗋𝗍𝖺𝗂𝗇 𝖻𝖾𝗌𝗉𝖾𝖼𝗍𝖺𝖼𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝖻𝗈𝗒. 𝖠𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗇𝖽 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗁𝗂𝗆, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗂𝗍 𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗐𝖺𝗅𝗄 𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗒. 𝖡𝗎𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗈…𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍?

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Soundtrack🎶

don’t know if this is to weird or what but can you do one where reader is on the phone with belly while conrad is eating her out?

pairing: conrad fisher x reader

smut warnings: oral sex, fingering.

note: not weird at all this is actually insanely hot thank you

conrad masterlist | requests

One thing you learned about your best friend over the years, was that she tended to have the most inconvenient timing for when she called you.

There was this one time you where disqualified on a test because your phone ringed in the middle of the exam. Of course, it was Belly. She wanted to call you to tell you about this new show she just found on netflix—you had to do extra-credit work to make up for the missed test.

There were also other plenty of times the girl had chosen the most unfortunate situations to give you a call, but if you had to pick the worst out of all of them, it would probably be this one.

You tried to ignore the first few rings of your phonre, given you were quite busy at the moment. Conrad had one of his legs in between yours, his knee causing friction on your aching spot, his lips were attached to the skin of your neck and your back arched wildly off the bed, your bare chest exposed. Soon, you realized you couldn't just ignore Belly.

"She's—" you tried to talk. You fingers pulled on Conrad's hair to try and make him pull away from your neck, that was probably already bruised with hickeys. It didn't work. "She's not going to give up until I answer her."

"Then do it." the words were mumbled around the area of your collarbone. You took a minute to ponder whether he was being serious or not. With your hesitation, Conrad propped his chin on your chest, looking you in the eyes dead serious when he said: "Pick up the phone, Y/n."

There was nothing he could ask you looking at you like that, that you wouldn't comply immediately. Your fingers were shaking when you picked up your phone in your hands, not taking your eyes off of Conrad's not even while you picked up the call and put Belly on speaker.

"What the fuck took you so long?!" the impatient vouce of your best friend filled the room, and you saw Conrad smirk. Your stomach churned in anticipation.

"I—I was busy."

"You were too busy for me?" she sounded insulted. You couldn't bring yourself to care. Not when a certain brunette was planting torturous slow kisses down your stomach.

Conrad was maintaining eye contact throughtout the whole time, icy blue eyes making goosebumps rise all over your skin. You bit your lip hard to contain a sound stuck on your throat.

"Anyways, that doesn't matter," you heard Belly keep going, but you weren't paying any attention at all. Conrad's palms grazed over your skin as he pulled up the skirt you were still wearing until it was halfway through your waist. Enough for him to place his head in between your thighs, your legs on his shoulders. "I just wanted to ask you if you want anything from the mall. You know, I'm looking at some dresses right now and they're all really cute! I figured you'd like one."

"S-sure." you sucked in a sharp breath. Conrad cuckled, his breath tickling you. Then he brought he closed his lips around your clit without any warning whatsoever.

You slapped your hand over your mouth so hard you were Belly could have heard it if she wasn't ramdomly ranting about pastel colors at the moment. Your hips tried to lift off the mattres in an unconscious movement, but a strong arm locked them back down with force. Your chest vibrated with a silent moan.

You could feel Conrad fucking smile against your cunt. He was attentively looking up and you, and his mouth placed wet kisses all over your entrance. His tongue teased you now and then, and your fingers gripped on his hair so hadd you were afraid you might hurt him.

"So we could match colors!" somehow you manged to catch on Belly's words. "Y/n? What do you think?"

"Whatever you want, Belly."

"Right. I have good taste anyways." then she went on about a whole different subject and you stopped listening again.

Conrad's tongue twirled a circle around your clit. You bit down on the back of your hand to hold back a scream when you felt him insert a finger in you.

The brunette sucked on you sensitive nub while his middle finger slided easily in and out, slowly at first and then picking up his own pace. Your hips rolled around as much as he let them, his arm still restraining any motion that could bring yourself relief.

You eatched nervously as Conrad's mouth left your aching core and he leved his face with yours again. He leaned in to kiss on the spot right below your ear, then whispered low so only you could hear: "What would Belly think if she saw you right now, huh? Letting me fuck you with my fingers, being such a good girl for me."

As if his words and the sound of his husky voice alone weren't enough to make your insides turn, he added a second finger. You couldn't help yourself then, your let out a small moan.

"Y/n? Are you okay?"

You took the deepest of breaths. "I'm—I'm fine, Belly. Keep going..."

Conrd's shoulder shook a little when he laughed silently. You could feel your legs shaking, your eyes treathening to roll back as his fingers thrusted faster than ever, your head throwing back on the pillow.

You grabbed Conrad's shoulders hard enough to make your muscles turn white. You could feel heat pooling down on your lower stomach and you knew that sensation very well. Conrad also knew how to notice when you were close.

"You need to cum, don't you?" his mouth captured yours, and he muffled a sound that could've sounded really weird to Belly if you had let it out loud. "Does everyone know you're that dirty?"

"Fucking God..." you breathed out. He was such an asshole, he knew exactly what he was doing to you and, if the huge grin he wore on his face was any indicative, he was enjoying it. A lot. "You're so gonna pay for this."

Then suddenly everything stopped. Conrad's lips were no longer touching yours and his fingers stopped moving inside you, making you have to swallow a whine down your throat. It was now so silent you could hear Belly's voice going on about something completely random again.

Conrad was no longer smiling, his eyebrows raised at you and his lips slightly parted in surprise. His expression told you he was still trying to register what you had just said. You were already starting to regret saying anything at all.

"Did you just threaten me?" you knew that tone.

Oh boy. You were in for such a long ride.

Drinny (Draco x Ginny) Recs Part 2:

Wip:

Witch Weekly, Witch Wizard, 157k (the best characterization of Ginny and Draco and within their relationship, angst, slow slow burn)

https://m.fanfiction.net/s/9912956/1/Witch-Weekly-Which-Wizard

Completed:

One Shots

The Sleepwalkers, 6k words (mutual pining)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/25739743

The Love We Deserve by @writerdragonfly, 4k words

https://archiveofourown.org/works/1487365

There Is Another Sky, 22k words

https://archiveofourown.org/works/93221

Three Years, Two Months, and Seventeen Days, 5k words (sappy, falling in love)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28453515

The Magic Of Rain, 9k words (marriage law)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/35060095

The Neverending Shift and the Prat Prince by @writerdragonfly, 4k words (both healers)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/1141564

Short Multichapter

Three Peas In A Pod by @botherkupo, 13k words (Blaise and Ginny are roommates)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17847548/chapters/42115946

If you want to see my first set of Draco and Ginny recs, check out this post:

https://crookshankscrew.tumblr.com/post/662719449008422912/drinny-fic-recs-for-you

Mind all the tags and ratings of the stories!

If you have specific Drinny or Dramione fic requests, send me an Ask!