#rockstar!reader

[samandcolbyownme]

The people wanted Colby angst & the people are getting Colby angst.

Summary: After a long, on and off, secret relationship with Colby, reader finally has had enough, or have they?

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, angst, kinda sad, arguing/fighting, mentions of alcohol, flirting, reader is the lead singer in a rock band, slight mentions of depression/anxiety, hair pulling, biting, scratching, choking, unprotected shower make up sex, filth

Word count: 6.8K | NOT edited

Inspired by the song, The Grey by Bad Omens. I will also be using a few of their other songs, so if you haven't listened to them, you definitely should. Noah Sebastian is chefs kiss 💋

╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗

The relationship you had with Colby was the first relationship you kept going back to.

You knew he was bad for you, mainly because it felt like he was holding you back more than pushing you forward, but you loved him with everything you had in you.

When you were together, just the two of you, it was pure bliss. Like seeing love through rose colored lenses.

But it never failed to change with each launch party of a new album or even an after party for playing at a sold out show.

Colby couldn't contain his jealously, but yet, he's the one who wanted to keep your guy's relationship secret in the first place.

He didn't want the lime light, he wanted to have you all to himself, but he failed to realize that with your career growing, so would your popularity grew with it.

You broke up for a while, spent a few weeks apart. You worked on your new album some more. Colby hung out with Sam, investigating the paranormal some more.

You and Sam were good friends, so around the time Sam told you they'd be back, you got that, can we talk? text from Colby, and ever since then, you've been better than ever.

You agreed to understand him wanting to stay out of the spot light, so in public you were friends usually have dinner with other friends, but when it came to your band, they knew which meant you could kiss each other in front of them and they wouldn't bat an eye.

He's come to your studio sessions. Sat up until three am with you while you wrote down and hummed to random song lyrics. He's even been front row at sound checks.

He's become an even bigger number one fan and you absolutely loved it.

Things seemed to be going in the right direction for a while, and you were thinking about talking to him again about going public, mainly because you wanted more from him.

More with him.

You thought that since your relationship was in such a good place and haven't called it quits for the sixth time, it could work.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

"Here's to y/n. Her talent is what got us here in the first place." Your guitarist, Lewis, raises his glass and everyone follows in with a loud, "To y/n."

You laugh, leaning into Colby. He lays his arm over you, taking a sip from his drink, "You really deserve this, babe." He smiles, planting a kiss on your temple.

You smile, taking a sip from your glass, "Let's face it though, I would be here without you guys." You motion to the rest of your band, "So let's give a toast to the people who stand beside-" you point to your drummer, Hunter,"And sit behind me on stage."

Hunter laughs, "Thanks for being so specific, y/n."

You nod, "Of course."

You look at Colby, "And thank you, for supporting me no matter what we go through."

He smiles, "I love you."

"I love you." You lean in, pecking his lips before turning to face your band, "Who's up for another round, huh?"

A few hours later, you and Colby arrive back to your house.

"So when's the album supposed to be finished?" Colby asks as he sits on the couch. You shrug your jacket off, walking over, "Hopefully by the end of the month. I have almost eight tracks so far? I want there to be at least ten."

"Are you going to release a single?" He extends his arm out as you sit down next to him, "Your singles are always a banger."

You laugh slightly and shrug, "I've thought about it. I mean, I have ideas but-"

Colby's phone buzzes and he ignores it.

Probably just Sam, you think, "I haven't really-" Colby's phone buzzes again, "Do you need to get that?"

He shakes his head, "I'm not worried about it. I'm worried about you." He pulls you closer and kisses your head, "So what are these ideas you have for a single?"

You blow out air, resting your head back onto his arm, "I'd have to go get my notebook, my brain is still kinda fuzzy from the show and then the post show alcohol."

You get up, laughing to yourself as you walk into the room that holds all your music equipment. You grab the notebook and turn around to walk back out, slowing down when you see Colby on his phone.

As much as you wanted to trust him and move forward, a part of you still had anxiety when it came to him with certain things.

You slowly walk over, "So."

He locks his phone and sets it down on the couch next to him, "Let's hear something." You sit down, facing him, "Okay. So I think these are going to go all in one song, but I so far I have I'm drowning in a dream I can't escape."

Your eyes can down over the page, "Then I have, ninety miles in the dark and family scars and electric hearts? I don't know there just something.." you look up at him, "That comes to me? I guess."

It was going so well, you didn't want to tell him that you were using your past times trying to make it work as a muse.

You weren't sure how he would take it, fine, probably. But at the same time, you didn't want to risk it.

"So Colby.." you set your notebook down, "I was thinking."

"Oh boy." He chuckles, "no, really. What's up?"

You smile as you move closer to him, "I was thinking that maybe we can.. grow.. more in this relationship?"

He tilts his head, looking over at you, "What do you mean?"

"I think you know what I mean." You look up at him, "I want more with you, Colby. I want to go out and be able to hold hands with you at a restaurant. I want to eventually get a house with you." You sigh, "I want marriage, Colby."

He stays quiet for a few seconds, "I've been thinking about it, too."

You raise your eyebrows, "Really? You have?"

He nods, sliding his hand up to grip your chin, "You are such a beautiful and talented woman, y/n. You genuinely surprise me every day I'm with you."

You smile and he leans in, "I love you."

You run your hand through his hair and lean in to close the space between the two of you, "I love you." You press your lips to his and move your head to rest your chin on his shoulder as he pulls you into a hug.

You glance down as his phone lights up and your heart starts racing as the name Serenity appears on the screen, "Who's Serenity?" You lean back and you can tell Colby is caught off guard, "It's.. No one, y/n. I promise."

You lean back and he tries to grab your hand, "Just wait.." you rip your hand away, placing it on your cheek, "Colby.. I thought.." you can feel tears burning in your eyes, "Are you fucking kidding me right now?"

"She isn't anything, I mean she was but-"

You cut him off, "When?"

"What?"

You raise your voice a little bit louder, "When. Colby, when was she ever anything?"

He stands up, "When we broke up this last time. I met her while Sam and I were in Georgia. It wasn't anything. I missed you, so that's why I-"

"You missed me? So you went and found someone to.. what, exactly? Distract you from the thought of me?" You throw your hands up, "Just when I thought things were changing."

"They are!" He says loudly, "They are! I haven't talked to her since the day before we left. I was focused on you because you're fucking everywhere y/n. but How can I get over you if-"

You raise your brows and he shakes his head, "No, that came out wrong.. I didn't.. I didn't it mean it to sound like that, I don't want to get over you." Colby walks over to you and you just stand there staring at the spot he walked away from.

He slides his hand up your arm, "I promise you it is and was nothing. Just a conversation.

"Did you sleep with her?" Your words are cold and you look at him. He shakes his head, "No. no we didn't do anything, and even if it did progress, which it didn't. Sam wouldn't have let anything happen, you know that?"

"Then why is she calling and texting you at three in the fucking morning?" You groan, "God, Colby. I genuinely thought we were going somewhere this time? All the times you showed up for me when you didn't before?" What was that just a cover so I didn't suspect anything?"

He shakes his head, "No, y/n. It's not like that at all."

"How can.." your voice breaks, so you pause, taking a deep breath before you sigh, "How am I supposed to believe you when you've done this shit before?"

"What are you talking about?" He tilts his head, "Please, tell me. I would lo-"

"Second time we got back together, I seen a Mariah on your phone. She was sending hearts, saying that if, and I quote, 'you and your mystery girl break up again, you know where to find me' end quote." You keep your stare on him, "we broke up shortly after getting back together that time, because things were getting too serious too fast, as you said."

"That wasn't.. she was.." he sighs, "We're talking about things over the course of a year or so, y/n. I didn't think I was ready to be with someone like you."

"Someone like me? What's that supposed to mean exactly?" You cross your arms and he sighs, "Again, didn't mean for it to sound like that."

"Just go."

Your words catch him off guard, "Huh?"

"Go. Get out." You point to the door, "I can't..." you close your eyes, begging yourself not to cry, "I can't keep doing this. Shutting myself down, trying to change you or even trying to change myself, Colby."

"Who's changing? What are you talking about?" He steps closer to you and you shake your head, looking up at him, "I just.. I guess I just gave you too many chances and you literally ran through them all."

You groan, "Fuck, I literally have everything I could ever want, but it obviously still isn't enough."

"Enough for what, y/n? You're enough for me." Colby's voice goes quieter, "Please." He steps towards you, wrapping his hands round your wrists, "Can you just please, sit down. Read the messsges. Time stamps. Everything."

"I just wanted more, Colby. More from you. This isn't.." you shake your head, "I just want to finally be with someone who doesn't leave me falling asleep confused every night."

"No, don't let me go." He rests his forehead against yours, "I mean it. I'm serious this time. I don't want anyone else but you."

"Who even am I anymore, Colby? Honestly." You step back, pulling your hands free from his grasp, "I literally don't even know who I am anymore. A singer who allows someone to just keep hurting her over and over again?"

"Y/n." Colby shakes his head, "Just please, hear me out."

"You had the chance to tell me. When we got back together.. I told you about the guy I had dinner with. I didn't even want to do it but I was so pissed at you for that Mariah girl, I just.. tried evening the score but I guess that didn't fucking matter, now did it?" You pace back and forth, feeling like you could puke.

"The thought.. of you even.." you lay your hands on your lips, "Being with another girl is enough to make me drop dead."

"I was never with any other girl, y/n. You have to-"

You cut him off, "No. I'm done. I'm done with this grey area of us that can only be seen when it's just us. It's not what I want, you know what I want and you just..." you look at him, "Clearly arent on the same level as me, you never were."

"But I am." He pleads and you shrug, "sure doesn't seem like it to me." You sigh, "Just.. go. Please."

"I'm not giving up on us, you can't just dig another grave and let me go, not like this." He stays in his spot and you just stare at him, "Colby. I'm tired. I have a headache, I'm not... I'm not doing this anymore. Just please, go home."

"Fine. But I promise, I'm not giving up. I'll give you space but I'll prove that I want you." He grabs his keys, walking towards the door.

You want to stop him but it's like your body is frozen in its place. You can't move, no matter how much you want to.

He gives you one last look before closing the door and you immediately break down, falling to your knees and leaning up against the couch.

You're gasping for air, clutching your chest as you try not to cry too loud.

You wanted Colby, but you didn't want the hurt that comes along with it anymore.

A part of you believed him, but at the same time, a part of you knew that you needed to let go.

Then it hit you.

Turn the pain, into power.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

Over the last two weeks, the only time you'd leave your house was to go to the studio. You had a new song in that was practically almost down.

A new single, and you had Colby to thank for that.

Other than that, you laid at home, in the dark usually just thinking about everything, Colby mainly.

It's been two weeks and you've barely made the effort to answer him. But you always do. Whether it's just him one word answers, or you wait hours, you can't seem to stay away from him no matter how much you wanted to.

That was until you got a text from him that set you off almost instantly, it feels like we don't talk anymore and you don't seem to care.

You sit up in bed, scoffing as your thumbs tap the screen at lightning speed. As you're in the middle of your paragraph, he sends you another text, I knew that would get your attention.

You clench your jaw. selecting your paragraph and deleting it to which you replacing with, what do you want, Colby?

He instantly replies, I want you to see that I love you.

You stare at the message, unable to come up with a response. He texts again, After your show tomorrow, I'm going to prove to everyone that I'm ready to join you in the spotlight you stand in.

You've been so caught up in your own shit, you forgot about the show you have scheduled for tomorrow.

Another sold out show.

You respond to Colby's text, what? Are you gonna join me on stage?

You laugh slightly as you click out of Colby's text thread and go to your bands group chat, meet me at the studio. We're playing that song tomorrow night.

Your eyes move up to the banner notification with Colby's text that reads, you'll see, baby.

A smirk plays at your lips, until you remember that you're mad at him.

Why you're mad at him.

You toss your phone down, getting up to change before you make your way to the studio.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

You walk into the venue, looking around in awe at the place you'll be playing. Thousands of seats scattered all around.

You were in shock each time you stepped foot into one of these places.

"Can't believe we'll be playing here tonight." Lewis walks up, slinging an arm over your shoulder, "You doin' okay?"

You sigh, crossing your arms, "Colby's coming tonight, and he says he has something planned to tell everyone he loves me. I don't.. really know how to feel but.."

You look up at him, "The show must go on, right?"

He tilts his head, "He isn't used to being with someone as pretty and famous as you are, y/n. I'm not trying to take his side, but maybe what happened between you guys, really opened his eyes."

You shrug, "I love him to death, but if we keep going in this direction, I don't think either one of us will make it out alive."

Lewis snaps his fingers, humming as he thinks.

You smirk, turning to face him, "What are you cooking in that head of yours?"

"Da da da.. da da.. da da.. Will we both go home alive? It wasn't hard to realize, love's the death of peace of mind? Think we can make a song about it?"

You laugh, thinking about it, "You know what." You nod, "Studio session. You and me. Tomorrow." You point at him and look over, seeing Sam walk towards you.

You walk over to him, bringing him in for a hug, "What are you doing here?" He hugs you and sighs, "Had to make sure my two people weren't going to kill each other, you know."

"So you heard about the argument.." you step back, crossing your arms over one another, "Sorry I didn't.. call you."

"Colby filled me in." He nods, "Plus I figured if you needed me you'd call."

"I haven't talked to anyone about what happened.. I mainly out focus into a song." You look at him and he tilts his head, "Does he know?"

You shake your head, "But he will tonight."

Sam wraps an arm around your neck, "You people and your song making." You shrug, "I felt like I couldn't explain it, no matter how hard I tried, so I wrote a song about it myself."

He laughs slightly, "What's it called?"

You bite the inside your lip, "The Grey."

"Hmm." He nods, "I'm actually really excited to hear it." He looks around, "Can't believe you sold this place out." He pulls you into him, "I'm proud of you, kid."

You laugh, rolling your eyes, "Thank you. Thank you." You sigh, "So is he here?"

Sam shakes his head, "Not yet. He's coming with our other friends later on." You nod, "Do you-"

"No. I don't know what he has planned." Sam laughs, "Nice try."

"Hey, couldn't hurt, right." You laugh and look up at Hunter who's waving at you. You nod, giving him a thumbs up, "I gotta go. Sound check you know."

"So I'll hear a snippet of the song?" Sam raises a brow and you shrug as you walk away, "Guess you'll find out."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

You bounce up and down slightly, taking a deep breathes as your nerves for this show are a lot higher than they've been for any other show.

Colby was in the audience this time.

Not hiding behind the curtain, off to the side like he has for every other show he's been to.

You wanted to know what he was planning, it's driven you crazy since he first said something about it yesterday.

"You're gonna kill it." Hunter says nudging you as he walks by. Lewis walks up, putting on his guitar, "It's just like any other show."

"Let's hope." You laugh slightly before putting your inner ears in, shaking out your hands before taking the mic from your stage director.

The band walks out into stage, taking their places and the music to the first song starts playing.

You put on a smile, walking out when you hear your cue. You move around stage as you sing your first song, waving to the fan.

You walk over to the mic stand, placing your mic in the holder as you finish, "How's everybody feeling tonight!?"

A massive sea of screams erupts in front of you and you can't help but smile, "Thank you all for being here. Another sold out show!"

You clap and the fans erupt again.

"I have something very special towards the end of tonight's show!" You look back at the band, laughing when the fans go crazy, "Too bad you won't know what it is until the end, "Anyway. Here's Like a Villain."

The rock music starts and you slowly head bang to the music, rocking your mic stand as you wait for your time to start singing.

Colby is heavy on your mind, so heavy you almost miss your cue, "Look into my face, then look again. We are not the same, we're different.."

You smile as you see the fans dancing and singing along. You absolutely loved being on stage.

You continue singing verse one, "You need a new clean slate without the dents. A place to put your pain, your consequence.. When you look into the mirror, are you even there?"

You take a breath, grabbing the mic off the stand. You bend down slightly as you belt out the chorus, "I don't wanna know all your secrets 'cause I'll tell. It's hard enough being alone with myself. I don't know how long I'll be holding on.."

You walk around the stage as you sing, giving them a performance. You dance around during the little break, walking over to the other side as you start to sing the second verse, "So write a brand new page, then write again. I know your act is staged, yet you pretend.."

Finishing the second verse, you move into the chorus again, "I don't wanna know all your secrets 'cause I'll tell. It's hard enough being alone with myself. I don't know how long I'll be holding on.."

You move back to the mic stand, resting it back in its holder as you wait for your cue for the bridge, gently singing, "Like a villain, I couldn't be I didn't need it, it needed me.. Like a villain, I couldn't be. I didn't need it, it needed me.."

It goes into the breakdown and your eyes scan the crowd and you see Sam and Colby standing in the VIP section of the pit.

Your heart skips a beat, and you start to sing again, "I don't wanna know all your secrets 'cause I'll tell. It's hard enough being alone with myself.."

The song goes into the outro and the band stops playing and the crowd goes crazy.

That one is always a hit.

You felt on top of the world right now.

You literally did have everything, but you still wanted more, just like your new song says. Just like you told Colby.

You were nervous. The closer you got to performing it for the very first time.

You weren't sure how Colby was going to react. Sam was the closest person to him, but you knew he wouldn't say anything.

At least you hoped he wouldn't.

A few songs later, almost ready to close out the show, you take a deep breath, "You guys have been absolutely phenomenal tonight!"

You raise your hands above your head, clapping for the crowd, "I mean it. I think this is the best crowd we've had this year so far."

The crowd screams and you sigh, "Alright guys.. so that surprise I was talking about earlier.." you pause, letting the crowd scream, "Alright, so I may or may not have been in the studio these last two weeks trying to get out a new single, and let's just say.." you pause, smirking out at the crowd, "I've done just that."

You laugh, grabbing your mic off the stand and walking around, "This single means.. a lot to me, for a few reasons and I'm very excited to announce that it will be out...."

The crowd go crazy, yet again, chanting in unison, "Tell us! Tell us!"

"Okay okay." You wave your hand, "I don't know when it'll be out, but we're going to play it for you right now."

You walk back over to the mic stand, giving your band a thumbs up, and they start playing.

You nod your head to the slow moving, then quick to pick up pace, "Evened the scores, then I let it all go fall apart." You take a quick breathe, "And every step forward put a little more sword in your heart, yeah.."

Your heart was pounding harder with each line, "Looking sideways when I say I'm okay with the past But I'm afraid of what I might say if you ask.."

You grab your mic, walking to the left of the stage, away from the side Colby was on, going into the pre-chorus, "Gave you way too many chances, you ran through 'em all..Got everything I could want, but it wasn't enough.."

"Nobody left for me to talk to, nobody to call.."

You take a breath, "Got everything I could want, but I still wanted more.."

"Yeah, I still wanted, more.."

You walk towards the right side of the stage, smoothly transferring into the chorus, "There's not another way, don't let me go.. Don't dig another grave today..."

"I'll make the same mistakes, I'll never know Who I was before I faded away.. Into the grey.."

You knew Colby knew. You were sweating.

You had a little break before you went back in for the second verse, "All of this time sittin' inside, sittin' in the dark.. And every night, I can see why you could never stop, yeah.."

"Lying is hard and the truth comes out anyway.. You're going way too far, gonna drop dead at this rate.."

You sing the chorus again before grabbing the mic, moving to the right of the stage, directly in line of sight from Colby.

You lay your hand on your chest, tapping it with the words of the post-chorus, "I did it to myself, tried to be someone else. I let it tear me down and I'll never be the same."

"I did it to myself, tried to be someone else..And you didn't notice 'til I finally got, finally got away.."

You drag out the last word and the crowd goes absolutely insane.

You smile as you sing the words to the bridge, then moving into the chorus one final time before moving back to your mic stand to close out, "Into the grey."

You step back from your mic stand and smile, looking out over the crowd.

Your eyes land on Colby and he's clapping and shaking his head with a smile on his face.

He pulls out his phone, turning around to record him and you on the stage. Sam starts smiling and laughing as he gives you a double thumbs up.

You blow a kiss to him, laughing as you wave and then suddenly the fans go even crazier.

You look down, shrugging as you ask, "What is happening?" You being the mic up to your lips, "Why are we having a second rush of cheering, I mean I appreciate it but, fill me in. Please."

You point to one of the girl's phone and security grabs it, handing it to you.

You watch the video play. It's what you watched Colby do, but you didn't know exactly what he did. You smile as you reach up to take your in ear out, "I have to be able to hear it right?"

The girls in front go absolutely insane screaming things you can't comprehend, "Okay, okay. Hold on."

You bring the phone up to your ear and you wanted to cry.

This is what you wanted all along.

Colby screams into the phone, "That's my fucking girlfriend." You hand security back the phone and the girl screams, "is it true? Is it true?"

You smile, giving her a nod, "Yes." You look up, bringing the mic to your lips, "Alright everybody. Thank you guys so much for a great show. We will definitely be back! I love you!"

You put your mic into the stand, waving as you run off the stage. You make your way back and your manager comes up to you, "Oh my god, y/n. That song. Top of the charts. You need to release it immediately."

You laugh, "I'll get it out tomorrow." You look over his shoulder, seeing Sam and Colby walk down the hallway, "Excuse me." You walk around him, making your way to the boys.

Sam gives you a hug, squeezing you tight, "Phenomenal."

You lean back, smiling, "Yeah?"

He nods, "Absolutely fucking insane." He moves to the side and you look up at Colby, "Are you mad?" He tilts his head, "Are you mad?"

You shake your head, chewing on your chew as you try not to smile, "No."

"Good." Sam lays his hands on each of your one shoulders, "Now kiss and make up." He pushes you towards each other and you laugh, wrapping your arms around Colby's neck.

You press your lips to his and lean back, "We gotta go. I need a shower. I was sweating because I thought you weren't going to like the song."

"I'll only be mad if it doesn't make top of the charts." He laughs, following you to your dressing room, along with Sam.

You walk in and go over to your bag, grabbing sweats and a sweatshirt, "I'm going to change quick." You walk behind the solid partition, quickly changing from your stage outfit into something comfy.

"So it was a good show?" You ask walking out to toss your stuff into your bag. You pull out your slippers, dropping them to the floor.

"Ten out of ten, will come to one again." Sam gives you a thumbs up. You smile, looking at Colby, "Ready to go home?"

He nods, "Yes. Please."

You zip your bag, walking over to Colby and taking his hand in yours. He gives your hand a squeeze and follows you out.

As you walk out, you see fans waiting by the one barricade, "I'm going to go see them." Colby nods, "Let's go."

You smile as you walk over, moving in between the two security guards. Colby takes your bag, waving and saying hi to the fans that call out for him.

"So you're Colby's girlfriend?" The one asks and you nod, smiling as you sign her paper, "I sure am."

"You looked so beautiful tonight." Another one says and you pout, "Stop it, you're so beautiful."

You turn, taking the one girls phone and taking a few selfies with her.

You do that with a few more and step back, "I hate to go, but I am exhausted. Thank you guys so much for coming out. I love you I love you!" You blow kisses to them and wave as you walk way, Colby glued to your hip.

"You're so cute when you do that." Colby opens the car door for you and you smile, "I love them. I want them to know that."

You get in, Colby moving to sit next to you.

"So. I have to ask." You turn to him, "Why now?"

He shrugs, placing his hand on your knee, "You wanted a huge gesture and our figured doing it at your show was pretty big."

You laugh, "I mean, yeah. And tweeting it.."

"I know we have some of the same fans so I figured if I tweet it, one was bound to see it and you know how fast that shit spreads." He squeezes your leg, "I'm just.. I wish I could prove to you how sorry I am."

"I mean.." you lay your hand on his hand, sliding it up his arm, "you're doing good so far... but I have a few more ideas.."

"Mm." He leans in, "Do tell." He kisses your cheek and you smile, "I'll tell you when we get home."

"But home is so far." He whines quietly, "Just one thing.. yeah?"

You turn your head, biting your lip as you look at him, "Don't push it." You laugh, pressing your lips to his and you couldn't wait to be home.

Soon enough, but it felt like forever, you and Colby are running up to the door. You work to unlock it as his hands slip under your sweatshirt.

"Almost.." You sigh, "Got it." You push the door open, turning around to face Colby as you walk backwards into your house.

His lips go to yours and your arms go around his neck as he kicks the door shut with his foot.

As you're making out, the post-show adrenaline wears off and you push yourself off of Colby, "Wait."

"Don't do this." He sighs and you shake your head, "How do I know it'll be different this time? How did I know that you'll be able to contain your jealousy and everything else that tore us apart before?"

A smirk grows on his lips and you tilt your head, "What?" He walks over to you, cupping your cheeks to give you a kiss before whispering, "I'm not jealous anymore because everyone knows you're mine."

He bends down slightly, lifting you up, "Now let's go get that shower, yeah?"

You smile, your hands on either side of his neck as he walks you into the bathroom. He pins you up against the wall, holding you up with his hips as he reaches in to turn on the water.

The bathroom quickly fills with steam as he sets you down so you can undress.

Hands are all over. Lips are kissing any part of your bodies they can get to.

It's hot.

He steps in, pulling you in with him and he spins you around as he closes the door. You gasp as your back presses up against the cool tile of the shower.

A moan escapes from your lips as his fingers move down to circle your clit, "F-fuck."

"This was I needed to do?" Colby asks and you shrug, lips parted slightly as you nod, "Kind of."

He hums in response, dropping down to his knees, "Or was it this." He lifts a leg, placing it on his shoulder before leaning in to lick between your folds.

Your hands move to his wet hair, tangling your fingers in as you arch your back off the wall.

His tongue circling your clit before gently nipping and sucking. You moan, tilting your head back as you close your eyes.

You missed him between your legs.

You missed him in general.

"C-Colby." You breathe out, "S-shit."

You look down at him, biting on your lip as you watch the image below you. His fingers dig into your skin and you roll your hips, "Yes, yes, yes."

He brings a hand over, slipping two fingers into you which earn a whine from your lips.

You pull his hair slightly harder which causes him to groan. The stroke of his fingers is absolutely perfect, he knows your body better than anyone.

"F-fu- co- col-" You squeeze your eyes shut at the pleasure of his fingers inside of you and his tongue on your clit.

He knew you were close, so he kept that pace as best he could.

Your hips buck out, moaning loudly as you push his gave into you, "Colby!" You clench around his fingers, your legs shaking more and more with each second you have to hold yourself up.

Colby leans back, setting your leg down on the floor but keeping a hand on your waist as he stands back up, "I fucking love you." He tilts your chin up and presses a kiss to your lips.

Your tongue moves in sync with his as he lets out a low groan as you wrap your hand around his cock, "Fuck. I need you."

You smirk at his words, "Fuck me."

He leans down, lifting you up and your arms wrap around his neck. He cautiously slips his one arm under your knee and you reach down to hold his cock steady as he slips into you.

You let out a loud moan, tilting your head back as you feel him rest inside of you.

"Look at me, baby." Colby whispers.

You tilt your head up, tightening your arms around his neck. He watches your face twitch as he slowly pulls out and thrusts back in.

You keep your eyes on him, forcing yourself to keep them open as you squeeze his cock, "Fuck, Colby."

He leans in, pressing his lips to yours and you slide a hand up to the nape of his neck, tangling your fingers in his hair.

"I love you." Colby mumbles against your lips, "It's always been you."

You moan into his mouth, digging your nails into his skin, "Don't leave me again." His lips attach to your neck, sucking a mark into your skin.

You moan, tilting your head to the side. Your eyes flutter closed as he kisses his way over your collar bones, making his way to the other side, "Never.."

He stops thrusting, resting inside of you, "I'm not going anywhere, and I plan on making sure everyone knows it."

You smile, nodding your head, "No more grey area?"

"Full on color, baby." He smiles and brings his hand up to cup your cheek, moving his lips with yours.

He sets you down, spinning you around so your chest is pressed against the glass shower door. His hand slides up to wrap around your neck, squeezing a moan from you as he slips his cock back in.

"F-Fuck." You whimper, pressing a hand to the glass and dragging it down. Your eyes roll back as he squeezes harder, cutting off your moans from sounded loud.

His thrusts are slow and hard, digging his fingers into your waist harder with each one, "F-fucking hell, baby."

He lets go of your neck and you gasp for air as he slides his hand to your shoulder, gripping it as he thrusts faster.

A string of moans and whimpers leaves your lips as his thrusts grow sloppy. He leans forward, resting his head on the back of yours and you can tell he's going to cum soon.

"Not gonna last much longer." He whispers, his voice raspy as he tries to hold it together, "Fuck, fuck."

"Don't stop." You moan out, "pl-ease don't stop."

You move your hips back into him, moaning loudly as you feel yourself growing closer, quite quickly.

"C-Colby!" His name leaves your lips in a scream as you cum around him once more. You moan, feeling his cock twitch deep inside of you.

You knew he came with you.

He lets his grip on your loosen, leaning up as he slides his hand down your back, "Incredible." He pulls you to stand up, his cock falling out as you turn.

Your lips meet his and he pulls you close to him.

After your shower, you walk out with a towel wrapped around you. Colby is lying on the bed and you can tell he's nervous about something.

"What?" You ask, stopping in your tracks, "What happened?"

He sits up, shaking his head, "Nothing, I'm just.. thinking.."

"Oh god, are you about to-"

"No, no. It's not what you think." He laughs slightly, brushing your wet hair from your shoulders, "I just don't know if this is the right time, but I feel like I need to just.."

Your heart is racing and your mind is moving too fast for you to even pick one thought to focus on, "Just say it." You blurt out and Colby sighs, "Fine. I will."

He takes a step back, getting down on one knee as he pulls out a ring from his pocket, "I don't even know if it's the right time but it feels like it and I jus-"

You cut him off by falling to your knees in front of him,  eyes glassy as you look from the ring to him, "Yes."

"I- what? Yes?" His mouth drops and he smiles, "You think it's the right time?"

"You told everyone I was your girlfriend at my show." You pluck the ring from his fingers, a smirk on your face, "Now at the next one, I can tell them I've been upgraded to fiancé."

He stands up and pulls you to your feet. He places the ring on your left hand and sighs, "I promise, we're going to work."

You look up at him, "We're endgame."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

I hope you liked it. As always, tell me what you think. Thanks for wanting more from me. It means SO much to me! Love you all!

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

Taglist: @fawned01 @theblackcatwitch @jaeyuns-world @littlec0ffeegirl @rosie-writings @nikkiwastaken @skyslondon @urmomsgirlfriend1 @this-is-not-eirini

[velvetcloxds]

📮DITCH THE WHOLE SCENE- send me a character and any option from my request guidelines and I'll write a baby blurb/dialogue for it

OFF-LIMITS | S.B.

word count: 0.9k

warnings: pairings in the tags, little suggestive comment at the end

summary: after getting a little carried away at the after-party, you wake up in your brother's best friend's bed, which is not the best situation to be in on the morning of a meet and greet

"My brother is going to kill me," you were searching for your socks, you didn't need them as much as your search made it seem but it was better than losing your mind while doing nothing. "My brother is going to kill you," you found one, groaning lightly as you kneeled down beside the bed to pick it up, looking up when Sirius sat up on the bed, throwing his legs over the side in the process.

"Good morning," he hummed and you wanted to throw him with the sock, be damned if it got lost again, because how very well dare he be so calm. Sitting there shirtless looking as unfairly sexy as ever giving you that same little smirk that convinced you that sharing a bed instead of booking another room wasn't as bad an idea as you knew it was. "Did you sleep well?" he was kidding, he had to be. Did you sleep well all cuddled up in his strong tattooed arms? Yes. Have you been dreaming about doing that since your first show together? Also yes, but none of that would matter once your brother found out and killed the two of you.

"Sirius, are you aware of our current situation?" he didn't seem like he was, gentle hand reaching out to help you up and sliding right down to your waist to keep you in front of him. He was showing you no mercy, allowing his thumb to slip past the hem of your shirt, brushing over your skin a few times, only satisfied when you shivered lightly under the soft, forbidden touch.

"Everything is going to be fine," he promised and you rolled your eyes, clearly not on the same page. "Love, we didn't do anything wrong, yeah, there's no reason to freak out."

"We cuddled," you began, allowing him to pull you closer, knees against his, your hand settling around his wrist. "And we kissed, a lot," you looked down shyly, there hadn't been much time to process that part just yet.

"The scandal," he mused, admittedly satisfied with your reaction as he laughed lightly, stealing a quick glance at his pillow stained with your makeup before looking back to you with a smile. "We didn't do anything wrong," his smirk deepened, eyes practically laced with mischieve as he shrugged. "Not yet, anyway."

"You don't get it, trouble," your body moved without your permission, his lap seeming to be the perfect seat as you settled on his thigh, dragging a hand through his hair with a little shake of your head. "He made me promise, once I stepped onto that stage with you guys, you were off-limits."

"You were off-limits too," he agreed and it was sort of pathetic how he became putty in your hands so quickly, the simple touch of your fingers threading the paths in his hair had him close to purring, eyes nearly closing. "Shit, maybe we really are screwed," he breathed and the grip on your hips was enough proof, his head lulling forward against your shoulder, kisses breathed over your skin.

"What are we going to do?" he wasn't all that eager to answer, a faint smile finding your lips as his kisses spread to your neck, a feeling you'd never thought you'd be lucky enough to be familiar with, but as guilty as you felt, you weren't sure you'd be able to stay away again. "Do we go back to just being friends?" you were nervous for the answer, your heart knew that whatever happened the night before was right, it felt right, too perfect to be wrong, but your head knew that things would be complicated if you continued to act on what your heart wanted.

"Could you do that?" he peeked up at you with big curious eyes, up through his lashes and it made your heart do leaps in your chest, your fingers moving gently to reach up and smooth the frown from his lips- you shook your head. "Then we take it slow, yeah, see if it works- we don't have to tell anyone anything just yet, not until we're sure."

"And if I'm sure now?" he smirked, any sense of seriousness gone in a second as he tightened his hold and threw you onto the bed beside him, crushing you under his weight but you didn't mind, anything but.

"Then we just get to enjoy our little secret for a while," you didn't know where to put your hands, sliding them up his chest and eventually stopping to cup his cheeks, not even daring to bite back your happy smile. "You like the sound of that, sunshine?"

"Maybe," you lied, he noticed, and the way he leaned down to kiss you was an excruciatingly long wait, so when his lips finally met yours you couldn't even help but melt, humming against him and the sound vibrated right through his body. "Didn't think I'd ever get to do that in real life."

"Is it better than in your dreams?'

"So much," he was pleased with that, making sure the next kiss lasted even longer, savouring every second, because he knew that for as long as you had to hide whatever you had going on, moments were going to be fleeting, special and he didn't want to take for granted the time he had with you now.

"Good, now what I'm wondering is what other dreams we could put to the test..." your cheeks were burning, skin tingling at his tone and you knew he wasn't one to tease without following through which is why the groan that left his mouth following the knock at the door was anything but exaggerated.

"Pads, you better not still be in bed," your brother's voice was like a cruel hand dragging you right back to reality, a finger on your lips reminding you to keep quiet when you tried to push Sirius off you. "You've got ten minutes before we're leaving, mate, I need to go find my bloody sister," and then he was gone, the last thing you expected to hear in return was the soft laugh of the rockstar on top of you.

"You're not going to make this easy on me, are you, trouble?" he shook his head and you were gone, there'd be no return to friends if that look, that torturous little look, was anything to go by.

"You know the answer to that, sunshine."

[nomizombie]

[You could be mine...] 🎸🎤🎶

fanboy!König x GN!rockstar!Reader || [Part 1] [Part 2]

[SFW/Wholesome] ; no usage of y/n, gender neutral pronouns, insane rocking out!!!, author has never been a rockstar or to a concert 😔, not proofread, written at 12 at night

[A/N] ; i was just really obsessed with the idea of König absolutely flooring it when he gets to meet his favourite rockstar!!! And then rockstar reader has to sign his forehead or smth

ALSO this is probably one of my first *longer* little drabbles so congratulations to msyelf for writing more than 3 sentences and not taking a nap!! 🎉

You stepped out onto the stage to a roar of fans. Hundreds were in the crowd screaming your name. Many scrambling to get to the edge of the stage and see you in full.

You greet the crowd enthusiastically, a gentle breeze flowing through the locks of your hair and tickling the ends of your shirt. With one strum of your guitar, the crowd goes wild, chanting and waving lights.

Not long after, your band begins playing. Drums, electric guitars, keyboard, and your smooth vocals, all come together to form song after song. Before long, the concert is almost over.

Sweat drips down your forehead as you pant, tired after jumping from end to end of the stage to interact with fans. You scan the crowd, at the front of the pack, barely hidden by spectators is a massive man, donning your band’s shirt and hat. You quickly snap your focus back to the blaring music behind you, more cheers erupting as you play the final song of the night.

You finally drop your mic. Singing a farewell to the horde of people as you leave the stage. Your shirt is soaked, hair damp and cheeks red. You high five your bandmates before disappearing into your area to change. The memory of the man still filling your memory as you wear a fresh shirt and pants, smooth your hair and dry your dewy skin.

Rushing out one final time, you find the long line of tables where your bandmates await you.

The obligatory autographing session after every concert. Tiresome, exhausting, but also something you look forward to.

Mindlessly scribbling your initials on albums and shirts, and thanking fans, you greet the next fan. But, when you look up, instead of seeing his face, your band’s logo crows your vision.

Your eyes trail further upwards before they land on a pair of crystal blue, anxiety-filled pupils staring back at you.

“Oh- Hello!” You croak out. It’s the man from earlier, and he’s so much more massive than you thought.

“Wow, big guy huh?” The words leave your mouth before you realise.

He stares at you silently, nodding frantically after a few seconds of awkwardness.

He’s not much of a talker, huh.

Desperate to ease the tension between you two, you flash your signature charming grin before speaking,

“Name?” You smile at him.

Once again, a few seconds of silence before another frenzied nod.

“König.” He says in a thick accent.

“Sorry? Repeat that would ya?” You turn your head to the side, leaning your ear into him.

His eyes widen before he comes a little closer and places his hand on the sides of his mouth. It was only then that you noticed how large his digits were. Each finger must’ve been at least one of yours and a half. Yet despite their size, he was trembling. Vibrating even.

He yells (or more accurately, speaks at a normal level) into your ear,

“König.”

You blink at him.

“Coonisch..?” You repeat at him confused. How do you even go about spelling that?

“It’s German.” He clarifies meekly.

Well that explains it.

He shakily places an album onto the cloth-covered table, then another, then another, then another, then one from your band’s first show and- holy shit, this dude must be a big fan. Physically and music-wise.

You reach your marker out to begin signing the stack before you freeze as he reaches into his bag and pulls out… guess what, another album! Then some faded polaroids that you faintly remember taking on stage before throwing them out into the crowd… then a small band facts book… exclusive posters, and some CDs still in the wrapping! When he finally stops digging around his bag, you finally notice the wide array of vibrant pins and badges stuck to his leather satchel. Unique pins from the early days of your music and badges that were never made again after the first drop. This man is beyond a fan.

He chuckles nervously as he noticed your wide eyes and slight gaping mouth. You were literally in the band but still you weren’t even sure you had some of the merch he did.

“All right… Coonisch… How do I… spell… that?”

“K-Ö-with the two dots above it-N-I-G.”

Oh.

“You want that on… everything..?” You gesture towards the stack of albums, posters, and pictures.

“Yes.” He responds. You can almost see his wide grin through the balaclava he wore.

You sighed, clicking your pen and getting to work. By the time you finished the last poster, he was practically vibrating.

“I take it you’re a big fan?”

He nods wildly again. Eagerly stuffing the pile of merch back into his bag. Once he’s all packed up, he doesn’t leave just yet. His eyes contemplate before he opens his mouth again.

“Can- Do you- Hand- Is it okay if you… shake my hand?!” The last part comes out a bit too loud. His eyes widen again, tips of his ears turning a light shade of pink as he lowers his head.

“Of course. Least I can do for a fan like you.” You beam at him. His eyes immediately return to their squinted eye-smile state as he holds out his jittery hand.

You slowly wrap your fingers around his (giant) ones and give him a firm, tight, shake.

“That good?”

He nods madly, eyes joyfully squinting. He looks like he just went to heaven.

A string of giggles leaves your throat. You can’t hold it back. He looks confused for a moment before chuckling himself, realising how much of a fanboy he must look like right now.

“Well, hope to see you around again, König.”

He thanks you profusely, bowing and nodding his head. He almost left before he froze, turned and quickly dropped something onto your table. You swear you could see him floating with stars in his eyes as he walked off.

You stare at the tiny red present box for a second before pocketing it and signing the next bunch of albums and posters. Before long, it was an hour and a half to midnight and you were tucked up in the back of your band’s van.

Squirming to your side, your brain replayed the interaction between you and König. Every timid word he spoke, his boyish mannerisms, even the look in his eyes as you shook his hand.

It was starting to get difficult not to think about him.

You felt your pocket for your phone before realising that the gift he left you was still unopened inside of it.

Quickly, you pulled it out, gently unwrapping the carefully lined paper and undoing the small ribbon.

Inside, the most precious necklace laid. Engraved with your initials and band’s logo. It was a locket in the shape of a sparrow, your favourite bird. You clutched the necklace, grinning from ear-to-ear as your cheeks burned.

Then, you noticed something scrawled at the bottom of the box.

A phone number.

You smiled so hard your face hurt.

dividers by @mmadeinheavenn

Tysm for reading!!! Please lmk if you’d like me to continue this silly idea of mine- i think im shaking at the thought of writing this aas a full fic witj multiple parts… 😭🙏

[remusslove]

Rockstar!reader x sub James ??

OMG OMG OMG OMG YES YES YES

I could just imagine rockstar!reader giving James a nice hard fuck or just a handy to tease him before she gets on stage. Just destroying him in her private room and she’s covering his mouth so no one catches them.

“gotta be quiet Jamie. We don’t want people hearing how needy you are” you said jerking his cock off faster as he instinctively bucks into your hand with tears streaming down his face from the pleasure.

Once he cums you clean him up quickly and one of the crew members knocks on your door and says “your on in two minutes” making you kiss him on the forehead as he’s just whimpering coming from his high making you smirk.

“If your good for me while im onstage I’ll give you a nice fuck once we get home. Have your pretty head all fuzzy for me” you said leaving the room with a shit eating grin.

[beautifulbrainrot]

Sub spencer x rockstar reader ?? ( lmk if this is something you don’t write )

Spencer Reid x Fem!Rockstar!Reader

thanks for the request! hope you don’t mind i did fem/afab reader and i hope this is what you want! this was acc super fun to write hehe

cw 18+ minors dni. kissing, grinding, oral (fem receiving), coming in pants, all my favs basically, and a bit of swearing

your face shined in the colourful lights as you moved around, mesmerising spencer from the side of the stage. you knew how much he hated being in crowds so you had made sure he could be away from them and still see your show, and goddamn if it wasn’t the best seat in the house.

he could se the thin sheen of sweat on your brow, the way you lips curled in a smirk - exposing your sharp teeth. you looked fucking gorgeous. as you sang a particularly provocative lyric your eyes snapped to where he was standing, winking playfully before looking back into the crowd, so fast he almost missed it. the combination of how you looked and your teasing had him trying to adjust his pants to hide his bulge, the movement only adding friction which made him choke back a moan.

as you exited the stage when the show was over, you grabbed him by the front of his shirt and dragged him back to your dressing room. you immediately pushed him up against the closed door, and dove in, kissing him with a fiery passion, the adrenaline from the show still coursing through your veins. your hands travelled over his body, gripping his hips and pushing him further into the door and then pressing your leg between his thighs to put pressure on the tent in his pants.

lewd moans immediately started pouring out of his mouth at the pressure which you eagerly swallowed, capturing his lips in another fervent kiss, practically devouring him with your intensity. spencer couldn’t get enough. he loved how you treated him after your shows, all clashing teeth and grinding bodies, so desperate for him that you couldn’t control yourself. and he wanted you just as badly.

he dropped to his knees as you pulled back for air, and tugged at the zipper of your leather pants, pulling them down as quick as he possibly could. when he did, he eagerly pressed his face into your clothed count - licking a stripe over you lacy black underwear - before pulling them to the side and diving in, licking up your folds hungrily, sucking harshly on your clit.

the sight of him looking up at you with hooded lust-blown eyes almost made your knees buckle. he looked like a goddamn wet dream come to life, rumpled hair, plushy, kiss -bitten lips, on his knees for you. soon you were toppling into orgasm, grabbing his hair and pushing him into you as you legs shook and clenched, loud moans ripping out of your open mouth.

he slowly stood up, kissing along your stomach and chest before landing a kiss on your lips which you gladly reciprocated, tasting yourself on his tongue. you reached down to help him with his situation but when your reached his crotch he shuddered, his knees buckling and his head falling into your neck. you brushed your hand over his crotch and smirked as you felt the warm wet patch seeping through the material.

“someone got a bit exited..” you purred, ruffling his hair with your other hand. he whimpered into your shoulder as a response, nuzzling into you as he breathed in your heady scent, the scent invading his senses and sending blood directly down to his spent cock. you giggled sadistically as you felt him get hard again before gripping him lightly and pushing him off of you so you could capture his lips in another kiss.

———————

it’s so hard to like finsish these off in a non awkward way lmfao! let me know if you enjoyed, likes, reblogs etc are all loved and appreciated!

[sleepy-gee]

rockstar's bf!coryo headcanons

☆ based on a newer au of mine, where reader is a famous musicianl/"rockstar" and coriolanus is their iconic partner, set during modern times.

☆ based on the song "paparazzi" by lady gaga :3

cw: suggestive themes, smoking, drinking.. yknow, sex, drugs & rock n roll! probably ooc!coryo but shhhh

☆ we'd be so fantastical

coriolanus has been your biggest supporter since day one. he's watched you practice a million times in your parents shitty garage, and he's head over heels in love with you. watching your hands move across the fretboard of your guitar/bass guitar is such a fucking turn on for him. he can't help but wonder what else those hands can do

☆ leather and jeans, garage glamorous

he's always, always stealing your clothes. what he steals the most, though, is your leather jacket. you thrifted it a few years back, and he loves the way it looks on you. it smells like coffee, cigarette smoke, and the perfume/cologne you wear. if it's missing before a show/interview and you wanna wear it, all you have to do is find coriolanus, because there's a pretty good chance he has it.

☆ ready for those flashing lights

most of your sexual encounters happen right before or after shows, where adrenaline is high. he'll go down in you in a closet to help you unwind or let you fuck him/fuck you if you have the time. he just thinks you look so damn hot in your stage clothes, he can't help it :(( and your calloused fingertips alone are enough to make him come. he loves the way they feel against his skin.

☆ you know i'll be your paparazzi

coriolanus has a love/hate relationship with the paparazzi. on one hand, you look fucking phenomenal in every photo taken of you, and he's often with you when they're taking, solidifying your relationship to any questioning tabloids. on the downside, the paparazzi is everywhere and you can barely get a moment to yourselves outside. and also? everyone else gets to see how great you look. he knows others are jealous, and it fills him with delight. he's just so damn obsessed with you..

☆ i won't stop until that boy is mine

you're his, and he wants everyone to know it. if you fuck a night or two before a show, just know he's going to leave dark hickies/bite marks/scratch marks/anything he can. (think gerard way with his gay ass scarf). even if you tell him to stop, that it's just making the gossip worse, he refuses. people need to know you're taken.

☆ i'll be your girl, backstage at your show

you've had a few girls and boys try to hook up with you a few times.. and it just gets under his skin. they see the marks on your neck, the way he's always in your jacket. don't they know you're taken? coriolanus makes it a habit to kiss you whenever there's cameras around, pinning you against a wall and shoving his body right against yours. you'll call him your groupie to tease him, and in all honesty? he loves it.

☆ you're my rockstar in-between the sets

coriolanus loves getting to hang out with you whenever you're on the road. there's nothing like it, really, being cramped in a bus with a bunch of other people, having to sneak around if you want time together.. he likes the thrill of it. one of his favorite things to do is share a cigarette and a drink with you after a long day. he tags along on tours when he can and cherishes every moment of it.

☆ eyeliner and cigarettes

coriolanus loves to help you get ready for your shows!! whether it's doing your makeup, assembling your wardrobe, or whatever you need, he's your little assistant. he'll kiss you good luck and help you adjust the shoulder strap of your guitar/bass guitar before sending you off on stage. he 100% gets hard watching you.

taglist: @on-plvto @theirgayyourhonour

[bettysupremacy]

Midnight rain | Steve Harrington

Summary: Steve wants a family and a home with you, but you’re still chasing the fame of being a rockstar.

a/n this is dedicated to all my swifties. i love u. also, i’m incapable of finishing a fic on a sad note. sorry! happy ending.

Lemme know if y’all would want more of this

Request

“One more tour.” You cradle Steve’s fragile face in your warm hands.

Tears run over your fingers, dripping guiltily onto the blanket. He shouldn’t feel like this, and it shouldn’t have been you to make him feel like this. He was sunshine. The sight has your heart in pieces on the comforter between you.

“One more tour,” you whisper. “And then It’s you and me.”

He shakes his head. “I want that now.”

You know he isn’t blaming you for his hurt, but it gnaws at you anyways. “You know I do too.”

It’s weak, but it’s convincing. And true.

“I know you do.”

Your eyes search for his glassy ones. “But this’ll pay for it. Another tour is a house, more than that.” Fame. You don’t say it.

His chest aches. He knows you’re right, and the thought of ripping you from the very thing you want the most tears him apart. He slides into your arms, needy for affection. Your hand glides from where it cradles his jaw to behind his head, holding under his other ear. It’s an intimate touch that has him hiccuping into your chest.

The gratefulness that he’s this comfortable being vulnerable around you is burdened by your guilt.

You’d had this conversation before. It had started with your confession that he deserves more, and ended with him in tears again because he only wants you. He can’t imagine children with someone who isn’t you.

You’d left it at that. He’d wait, however long it took, and be there when you were ready. He just wish it’d be quicker.

There had been three tours so far. Three sold out worldwide tours that Corroded Coffin had traveled, each one a little more taxing on Steve. He missed you. He didn’t like being apart from you for so long, didn’t like calling you and knowing you were on a pay phone. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust you. It was never that. He just missed the intimacy of home life he’d get in between travels.

“Eddie said this album would make the history books.” You whisper. You hate buzzing thrill in your voice. “This tour could mean big things.”

His head doesn’t move from your shoulder, but his arms tighten. “Big things that make the wait longer?”

“Big things that insure our future, Stevie.” You breathe out. “Another tour is the type of money where we’d never have to work again.”

“But you’d miss it.” He shakes his head the most he can. He’s right, you would. He couldn’t do that to you.

This was all you’d ever wanted, and you’d finally gotten it.

“We can still make music, corroded coffin can still make music, and once we’re settled, I don’t see why another tour isn’t possible.”

He sits up out of your hold, imagining this future. Your nimble fingers reach up to wipe over his cheeks, uncaring of the snot the runs.

His breathing is in staggers. “You, me, baby Harrington.”

“Yeah, baby,” Your shoulders shake with soft laughs, a light in the dark atmosphere. “I can still be rockstar with a kid.”

He smiles, pictures of you on stage with a bump flash his mind. “Totally metal to be pregnant.”

“That’s what I’m saying.” You brush his hair from his eyelashes.

He blinks funny because of it. “And I could go with you.”

Your eyes lock. He’s only ever been with you for one. It was too much for him, too much movement. And it’d only been the states.

“Yeah,” you nod. “I’d like that.”

He nods back. He doesn’t want to miss you again. Missing you was the worst ache he’d ever endured. Many sleepless nights, many red eyes.

His tired eyes claw at you.

This argument started at ten and now your bedside clock reads midnight. You hate to even call it that. An argument. He hasn’t tried to stop you, to argue that you shouldn’t go. He’s just upset, rightfully so.

You stretch to your nightstand, pulling the string on your lamp. The room goes dark, silent besides his breathing. Laying down, you give him enough room to lay down beside you, his ear to your heart. Your fingers tangle in his hair. You let the silence envelope you before whispering.

“In two years.. we’ll buy your parents house,”

He nods quietly. “I’ll knock you up.”

Your chest rises in quiet giggles. His mouth turns up at the feeling of it. “You’ll knock me up. She’ll grow up with her uncle Dustin and aunt Robin.”

“She?” His eyes close.

“We’re having a girl.”

“Okay.” He wouldn’t mind being a girl dad.

You scratch his scalp. “She’ll go to Hawkins elementary, tour in the summer.”

He hums.

“It’ll work out.”

“Me and you.” He agrees.

You were midnight rain.

[averagewriter-inthedark]

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.

“Ridin’ down the highway. Goin’ to a show. Stop in all the byways. Playin’ rock ‘n’ roll.”

“Gettin’ robber, gettin’ stoned, gettin’ beat up. Broken-boned. Gettin’ had, gettin’ took. I’ll tell you, folks, it’s harder than it looks.”

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’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

[streamafterlaughter]

Fundamental Differing

Chapter XX: A Fine Line Between Hope And Despair

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summary: your night turns sour when you can’t bring yourself to leave eddie’s side just yet.

a/n: everyone please give a round of applause to me, willow, for completing two chapters within four weeks of each other for the first time since october! i love when i’m motivated it makes me feel sooooo good about posting. i hope y’all enjoy! a scene included was inspired by this post

tags: rockstar!eddie x rockstar!reader, afab!gnc!reader, use of y/n, mutual pining, angst, these two can’t catch a break

cw: sexual harassment, descriptions of violence (eddie gets beat up), wounds, mentions of blood. this fic includes mature content not suited for readers under the age of 18. MDNI

March 1986

Eddie’s POV

“Eddie, please. Stay with us, please. Baby, baby please.” Your voice is muted, like he’s underwater. He’s hurt. Bad. Chunks of flesh have been torn from his torso, leaving only bloody holes that rise and fall as he tries to breathe with little luck. It hurts to move at all, and the corners of his vision are starting to blacken. He has a particularly large gash just under his chin, and you won’t look at him, afraid to reveal anything about his own condition to him.

He knows, of course. There’s no chance he’s making it out of here alive, but that won’t stop you from trying. “It’s okay, sweetheart. Get outta here while you can, yeah?” It’s barely a whisper, more of a rasp, a ghost of what his voice once was.

“No. No! How could you ask such a thing of me? Help is coming. I’m not leaving you. I won’t.” Your voice is beyond broken, each word forced out between violent sobs. The creatures responsible for tearing Eddie apart have seemingly vanished into thin air, leaving the world around him now eerily silent, save for Dustin sniveling behind you. “The rest are on their way. We’re gonna get you outta here, okay? Eddie? Baby you can’t close your eyes, keep talking to me…” But your voice quickly fades as his eyes start to flutter.

—

April 1986

“No. I’m not letting you do that.” Eddie turns his back to you, facing the wall. He’s been in bed all day, sulking, in pain, and taking his frustrations out on you.

“Eddie, please. Wayne isn’t home and you need to change the bandages. Please. Let me help you.” You reach for your boyfriend, and he recoils from your touch. It breaks your heart to see him like this, and you know it’s not his fault, but it still hurts your feelings.

An idea comes to you. It’s a risk, it could seriously piss Eddie off. “Okay. Guess I’ll call Steve.” You turn to get up, but you’re stopped by the firm grasp on your wrist.

“Absolutely fucking not,” For someone in so much pain, Eddie is still very strong.

“Will you let me help you then?”

He groans, long and low. “Fine.”

“There. Now was that so hard?”

—

Present Day

Your POV

“Thank you for comin’ out tonight, be sure to catch our show tomorrow night! You know this one, let’s fuck this place up!” Of course, they start in on Master of Puppets, the finale to end all finales.

You can sense Eddie’s eyes on you in your peripheral, burning a hole through the side of your head. When you look at him, he’s beaming, grinning ear to ear as he completely ignores the band in front of him, focused instead on you singing and head banging along. “What’re you all smiley about?” You tease him, nudging his shoulder.

He shakes his head shyly, hair obscuring the blush on his cheeks. “You know damn well.”

You giggle, taking his hand in yours. “Thanks for hangin’ out. I know it’s not easy.” Eddie scoffs, lacing his fingers between yours. “It’s the easiest thing in the world, actually.” You know he’s lying, but it’s nice to hear anyway.

—

The crowd disperses outside, the warm air hitting you as you exit the club. Eddie plucks a cigarette from the pack and offers you one that you take gratefully. Metallica fans do double takes as they walk by the pair of you, some mumbling to their friends about how “That’s Eddie Munson! and Y/n L/n!” You snort as Eddie waves to a group of gawking girls, and you have to hide yourself in Eddie’s chest as one of them trips over their own feet, not paying attention to where they’re going.

“You wanna grab a bite?” Eddie offers, swinging your arm and his as you walk back toward the hotel.

“Yeah, I’m starved.”

You walk for what feels like awhile, your hand never not touching his. Eventually, you happen upon the neon lights of a bar and grille, rock music from twenty years ago buzzing in the cheap outdoor speakers. The place is fairly packed, and you find yourself more anxious than you’d prefer. Eddie must notice your posture change, because he squeezes your hand. You look up at him, and the question is clear in his eyes. Are you okay?

You nod, and squeeze his hand in return before clearing your throat to answer the hostess. “Two, please?”

The girl is young, probably in high school. Her big eyes flick back and forth between you and Eddie a few times as she pops her gum, as if trying to place where she knows you. “Follow me.” She says finally, without any indication that she knows a thing.

“Psh, square.” Eddie whispers, and you have to bite back a cackle. She seats you at the bar, crammed between each other and a stranger.

—

Eddie’s POV

It’s your turn to ask, but you use your words. “Are you okay? Sorry, I mean, is this—“

Eddie shakes his head, halting your anxious ramble. “I’m okay, sweetheart. Don’t worry about me.”

“What can I get ya?” The bubbly bartender appears seemingly from thin air, causing Eddie to jump. “Ope! Sorry, didn’t mean to startle ya! I’m Lizzie, I’ll be your server this evenin’.”

As Eddie overcomes his startled heart, you order a drink for yourself, a soda for Eddie, and an appetizer of soft pretzels. When the waitress whose name he’s forgotten disappears across the bar, you turn to him. “What’s on your mind?”

“Hm?”

“What are you thinking about?”

Truthfully, not much. For the first time in a long time, Eddie’s mind is quiet. “Nothing, if you can believe that.”

Your smile widens, and Eddie feels his chest tighten. Oh, right. There’s always that. Always you. “What about you?”

You shrug. “I’m having a lot of fun with you.” You sound sincere, and without a drop of pity.

“Me, too. A really nice time.”

Bubbly Waitress returns suddenly, almost slamming the glasses on the counter in front of you. “Here ya are! I’ll be right back with those pretzels.”

She leaves, and when Eddie turns his attention back to you, you’re already looking at him, hiding your fit of giggles behind your napkin.

—

Your POV

“I’ll be right back.” You’re about halfway through your meal when your bladder betrays you. Eddie nods, and you push yourself from the stool to locate the restroom.

When you’re finally able to see the door marked RESTROOMS, your path is obstructed suddenly, vision blocked by the chest of a large, solid form of a bar patron.

“Hey honey, you here on your own?” His speech is dreadfully slurred, and you look up to find his lips practically wet with liquor.

Even if you were, what makes this brick think you’d reveal it to him? Oh, right. Probably the alcohol. “No, I’m not. Would you excuse me, please? I need to use the restroom.” You don’t want to make this man angry. Somewhere, deep in your DNA, you feel the need to appear pliant to this man. Because he is a man, one very clearly stronger and more confrontational than you.

“Aw, c’mon. Let me buy you a drink, sexy.” His hand comes far too close to your chest for your liking as he pleads again with you, the rank smell of whiskey tickling your nostrils.

You glance to where your company sits, and find him staring back at you, watching like a dog for signs of trouble. He catches your eyes and you let the tiniest of nods slip. He’s off his feet in seconds.

—

Eddie’s POV

“Hey, baby! There you are.” He approaches with his arms wide, and you latch onto his lifeline. He shoves the giant out of his way with little struggle and wraps his arms around you, squeezing protectively. His heart races as you claw at him, practically shaking as you bury your head in his chest.

“Yo, bro. I was here first.” This guy just won’t quit.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Eddie turns to face the guy, who’s about two inches taller than him and twice as built.

“You can have a go when I’m done, man. Back off.”

Eddie clenches his fists at his sides, so tightly he’s sure he’s drawn blood. He breathes deeply through his nose to stifle the fire in his chest.

“I’m not interested, asshole!” You spit from over Eddie’s shoulder, and he relaxes the tiniest amount.

“Oh shut up, bitch, you’ll get my dick whether you like it or not.”

He blacks out after that. When he comes to, Eddie is on top of the gigantic man, fist coming down onto his face at full force. Quickly, the guy rolls over to gain the upper hand, and Eddie has no time to react before his nose is crushed by his punch, gushing blood into his mouth.

“Hey, HEY! You two, FUCK OUTTA MY BAR.” The manager is a short, hairy man with a gold chain dangling around his exposed chest. Before Eddie can register what’s happening, three clones of you hover over him, scooping his limp body into your grip to carry him outside.

—

Your POV

“I know. I know! He’s sober. I don’t know why, Steve!” You’re trying to stay quiet as you beg into the phone for Steve to come bail Eddie out of jail. You're at the police station, filing a witness report, explaining in every way you know how to that Eddie is not in the wrong for this.

The cops won’t listen. Of course they won’t. Because “talking to a lady isn’t against the law, ma’am.”

It takes about an hour, but Steve shows up with words from the big fancy lawyers, and that somehow gets Eddie out of shackles. Typical.

Eddie is beaten, badly. His eye is almost swollen shut, turning black and blue at an alarming rate. His face is stained with the blood from his nose and mouth, as well as his white t shirt. You feel your heart crack and spider at the sight of him. The edges of your vision darken when he tries to smile and winces.

—

“What the fuck happened?!” You’re at the hospital. Eddie needs stitches in his forehead, and is being kept overnight to monitor him for a concussion. The ice pack given to him by the police sits melted in his lap. The usually bright fluorescents are dimmed to a hazy glow to accommodate for the time of night.

“Sh, Stevie. Stop yelling.” Eddie covers his eyes with one hand dramatically, reaching the other blindly to Steve’s face.

Steve slaps his hand away before continuing. “I feel like every time you two are together, there’s trouble. I’m starting to regret-“ He catches his tongue when your eyes widen. “Never mind. The guy said he won’t press charges if you don’t, and we gave him a thousand to keep that word. What the fuck were you thinking?”

“Steve, he was harassing me. I needed help, he was too big, he could have killed me.” You speak finally, angry at your friend now. “Eddie was there for me, something I’m pretty sure is your job, Steve.”

Steve gapes at you, speechless.

“It’s okay, Stevie. Don’t feel bad, I was sober. I made this stupid decision without a drop in me. There’s nothing you could have done to stop it.”

Steve huffs. “Well. I’m glad you’re both okay. I just need you guys to keep a lower profile when you’re out so this shit doesn’t happen.”

“Oh yeah, Steve, sorry. I’ll remember that next time I have to piss in public.”

The two of you bicker before Eddie interrupts with his shushing, finger to his swollen lips. “Though I would love to continue this very important discussion, I need to go to sleep.”

“Uh, Ed, I hate to break it to you. You’re not getting sleep tonight.”

Eddie sits up and winces at the pain. “What?”

You nod. “You can’t sleep. Not for awhile, anyway. They’re afraid you have a concussion.”

“Well, shit.” He groans, opening his eyes. “Now what?”

“We can keep you awake?” You offer, and Steve seizes the opening.

“We’ll do it in shifts. Y/n, take a nap first. I have to talk to Eddie anyway.”

—

Eddie’s POV

He doesn’t have the energy to fight with Steve, so he watches you exit the room with a small wave to him, and a quick hug for Steve.

“Seriously?” Steve places himself at the end of the bed. “You willing to risk everything for that? For some macho guy pissing contest?”

“You woulda done the same thing for them, for anyone. That guy was a moron.”

“Maybe, but you have a career, Ed. A reputation.”

“First of all, fuck you. I thought you got over that elitist shit after high school. Plus, if anything, I’m proud to have that reputation. I don’t take shit from guys like that, I don’t think that’s a problem.”

Steve sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Look, man. I didn’t wanna tell you this, but you’re on thin ice. The label wants to drop you.”

Eddie’s ears are ringing suddenly. He thinks he’s heard wrong. There’s no way. The brute must have punctured his eardrum. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“I don’t know the details. Your agent called me last week to tell me the executives weren’t happy with all the negative attention you’re getting. If this shit from tonight gets out, you’re almost surely cooked.”

Fuck. Fuck! “What are the chances of that happening?”

Steve shrugs. “Was anyone taking pictures?”

Eddie tries to remember. He remembers the song playing, I Can’t Live With You by Queen. He remembers the guy smelled like cheap beer and thick body spray. He remembers the fear in your eyes before he came over to you. He remembers the anger. Then nothing. “I don’t know.”

“Then I don’t know either. Guess we’ll have to wait and see.”

—

Your POV

You wake to Steve standing over your makeshift cot. “Hey, I’m gonna get back to the hotel. You okay to keep him awake?”

Your eyes wander to the clock above the door. 3AM. Shit. “Yeah, yeah I’m good. You sit up, squinting even in the dim light of the room. Eddie’s eyes are seemingly focused on the pages of a lifestyle magazine.

“Okay. I’ll see you later. Love you.” He places a kiss on your forehead.

“Bye, Stevie. Love you too.”

He exits after saying goodbye to Eddie, the door closing quietly behind him. “Alone at last.” Eddie teases, patting the bed next time. “Doubt it’s any more comfortable than the cot.”

You shrug, dragging your sluggish body into the small hospital bed, under the paper thin blanket barely big enough for one of your legs. “God, I don’t think you need me to keep you awake, this shit is so uncomfortable.” You squirm around trying to get cozy without imposing on Eddie, but he seems to catch on. He stretches his arm around your shoulders, pulling you in to lay on his chest.

“This okay?” He asks, voice hoarse with sleep.

“It won’t be if I fall asleep. What use will I be then?” You don’t bother lifting your head to speak, you can feel your eyes closing against your will.

“Guess I’ll have to keep you awake to keep me awake.”

“And how do you plan on doing that?”

You feel him shrug. “Tell me a story.”

“What?”

“Y’know. A funny story, a happy anecdote. I like hearing you talk.”

You debate arguing, but ultimately decide you owe him at least this much for taking such a beating. You think for a minute, what you could possibly say to Eddie to both keep him awake and entertained.

“Did I tell you about the time I met Bono?”

“What?!” Eddie cackles, shifting so he can look at you. “You’re lying.”

“I promise! I was in Boston, 1981. My dad took me to their concert at this tiny club called The Paradise. It was one of their first shows in the states, so they could play a teeny tiny venue with no issues.” You recall the night as you tell the story. Your dad had gotten tickets from a work friend, and he knew you were a huge fan at the tender age of thirteen. “We ended up running into him at the bar, and I had no idea what to do. I just kinda poked him.”

“Poked him?” Eddie’s bewildered.

“Yeah, like,” You playfully poke Eddie in his arm. “Poke. That’s it. Didn’t say a thing.”

“What did Bono do?”

You shrug. “I don’t remember. I think he just laughed it off, maybe said something to my dad.”

“Why’d you poke him?”

You shrug. “No idea.”

Eddie laughs, and you giggle with him. It’s such a stupid event, but it does the job of keeping Eddie’s eyes open.

—

The sun streams through the blinds of the stale, gray hospital room, rousing you from sleep. Sleep?! Shit! You wake up frantically, only to realize the bed is empty. “Eddie?!”

The toilet flushes, and you hear the faucet start. Okay, so he’s awake, that’s good.

Eddie exits the bathroom wiping his wet hands on his hospital gown. He’s put his jeans on underneath it, as if afraid you’d see his naked ass. The thought makes you blush. “I’m so sorry, why didn’t you wake me?”

Eddie sits back down on the bed, swinging his leg up and around you, locking you between his thighs. “You looked so peaceful, I couldn’t bring myself to. ‘s okay, I stayed up.” He shrugs. “Doctor said I was good to go, I was just waiting for you to wake up.”

—

Eddie’s POV

Steve is parked on the curb outside. He scowls at Eddie when he enters the passenger seat, leaving you to climb into the backseat. He’d usually let you ride shotgun, but he volunteers to take the brunt of Steve’s lecture. “Lay it on me, big boy. I know you wanna.” At first, Steve says nothing, stewing in his own frustration, chewing the inside of his cheek as he peels out of the parking lot.

“Y’know,” He starts after agonizing minutes, “I think I said my piece. I’m not pissed, if that’s what you mean. I know why you did it.” He lowers his voice so you can’t hear him over the music in the back, “I would do the same for them. For you, for anyone here. But you gotta remember who you are.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” He doesn’t want to argue, and his head is still throbbing, but Steve just knows how to light him up.

“It means you’re famous, Eddie! Like it or not, people know who you are. They like you, love you even! You can't beat up random guys in bars anymore. Not if you wanna keep your job.”

“What if I don’t want to keep my job?” He bites without thinking, but there’s a truth to his question. What if?

That catches Steve off guard. “What?”

“What if I wanna quit? Y’know, be normal, do normal guy things? I could work as a mechanic, move somewhere nice with the money I did save. What then?”

“Is that what you want?”

“I don’t fuckin’ know, Steve.”

He blows a breath through tight lips. “Well, you’ll have time to think about it. After this week, the leg is over. You get four weeks to do whatever you want before we hit New England and Canada. Give you some time to figure your shit out.”

This hits Eddie like a brick to the skull. A whole month of no touring. Where is he supposed to go? He can’t bear to face Wayne and Hawkins again yet, and Boston is way out of the question if you’re there. You. What are you gonna do? Do you even know about this month off? You probably do, you pay attention to those things, while Eddie barely knows what day of the week it is at any given point.

What is a month away gonna do to the progress he’s made with you? You said you needed time, but space, too? He’s starting to panic.

“Earth to Edward?” Your voice calls him back to the present.

“Hm?”

“Food. You want?”

“Oh. Uh, yeah, sure.” He shoves the cloud of dread out of his brain for now, and follows you and Steve into the diner.

—

a/n: believe it or not, the bono story is true, but it happened to my dad when he saw U2 in Boston in ‘81. My dad poked Bono. Not sure why, but he did!

tag list: @children-of-the-grave @five-bi-five @wiildflower-xxx @beebeerockknot @champagne-glamour @xxgothwhorexx @therensistance @chonkzombie @brxkenartt @sidthedollface2 @bibieddiesgf @gaysludge @eddiesguitarskills @littlepotatobeansworld @poisonedluv @kellsck @m-chmcl-rmnc @veemoon | send a message to be added or removed🫶

[cupid-styles]

red

rockstar!yn and groupie/tour photographer!harry

in which y/n plays guitar, drinks rum and coke, and wears red lipstick, and harry can never get enough.

content warnings: a little smutty but mainly just public teasing (slight dom/sub dynamics, spit play, choking)

word count: 1.1k

masterlist | talk to me

Y/N's hovering over the drinks table and making her favorite pre-show cocktail when James, their bodyguard, says the words she's been dying to hear all night: 

"Y/N, Harry is outside." 

She perks up instantly, lifting her unstirred rum and coke to her lips and taking a hearty sip. Her band whoops and hollers teasingly and she shoots her middle finger up with a roll of her eyes. 

"Thanks James, I can go grab him." She says sweetly, keeping a tight hold on her solo cup as she exits tonight's dressing room.

She's not quite sure where they are tonight, somewhere close to California, maybe, and she's just familiar enough with the hallways of the venue to find her way to the back door. Her platform heels clack against the linoleum flooring as she pushes the steel door open to find Harry standing there, how he always is: patient and with a camera looped around his neck. 

"Hey," he grins, stepping inside. As usual, he has a piece of mint gum wedged between his teeth, his jaw making subtle movements as he chews. The sight is enough to make Y/N clench her thighs. "You look hot tonight."

She's wearing her typical rotation of show garb, opting for a lacey black dress (she's pretty sure it's actually lingerie, but that's never stopped her), sheer black tights, and satin platform heels. 

"Mm, just tonight?" Y/N mocks lightly and he chuckles, shaking his head. 

"What d'you have in that cup? I'm gonna need a drink if I'm spending another night with you." 

She rolls her eyes, knowing that the teasing between them is just for show. The energy amidst the two is always electrifying and filled with sexual tension, regardless of how much time has gone by since their last meeting. It's apparent in the way he's currently pushing her up against the dirty wall backstage in this venue, matching smirks on their faces as he wedges his thigh between her legs. 

"You know what I drink before shows," she murmurs, lifting the red plastic cup between their bodies. "Don't think you should be drinking, though... aren't you on the job, Mr. Photographer?"

Harry rolls his eyes as he grabs the cup from her, downing a sip. "You're a menace, y'know that?"

"Is that why you keep coming back?"

He nearly chokes at that and shakes his head, clenching his jaw. She always feels particularly playful before shows — something about the nervous energy makes her test every last nerve of Harry's. He knows what she's doing, though. He's familiar with this game and he'll give in every single time because it's her, and they both know they'll never find anyone as depraved as the other. 

"You need to be put in your place tonight?" He asks, lifting his large hand to palm at her throat, daft fingertips trailing lightly over her windpipe. 

She shrugs and he ignores the quiet gasp that falls from her lips when he wraps his hand around her neck. He doesn't apply any pressure just yet, instead wanting her to feel desperate enough to beg for it. 

"Answer me." Harry instructs, the playful air between them sucked away with the quick shift into their usual dynamics. 

"Yes," she breathes, nodding her head, "Please, Harry." 

He smirks at her admission and squeezes her neck, making her eyes flutter closed. "My obedient girl, hm? Always so eager to please."

Harry knows he's pushing it — if anything obedience is the opposite of Y/N's personality. They don't always fall into typical dominant and submissive roles, instead switching it up based on what they're craving. It's part of what makes them such a good match: They can tell when the other needs to be dominated, vice versa. 

"Want you, please," Y/N simpers, jutting her bottom lip out in a pout. She dons red lipstick tonight and Harry has the incessant urge to mess it up, whether it be with his cock, fingers, or his own mouth. 

"Can't right now. You have a show to play, darling."

She huffs as if this is breaking news to her, and it makes him break character just for a moment, a small dimpled smile wiggling its way onto his face. He gives her throat a quick squeeze once more before removing his hand and sliding it down to her hip, just above the hem of her dress.

"Don't pout, baby. I'll give you a little something to hold you over until later, okay?" 

Y/N nods eagerly and he smirks, knowing what he's about to do is debauched, especially considering they're still in a very open hallway, where any one of her bandmates or crew members could walk out to grab her for the show. He can tell she doesn't care, though, already teetering on that sweet, submissive headspace that he adores. 

Harry takes another sip from her drink and plucks her bottom lip open with her thumb, wordlessly instructing her to keep her mouth wide. She knows what's coming and a bubble of satisfaction forms in Harry's stomach when she squeezes her legs around his thigh. Slowly, he dribbles the beverage into her mouth before closing her jaw shut. 

"Swallow." he murmurs, watching to make sure she does as he asks. She's been known defy him every now and then, but tonight isn't one of those nights. She opens her mouth once she's gulped down the liquid, sticking her tongue out. 

"What do you say?" he asks, giving her hip a squeeze.

"Thank you." 

He smirks and leans forward to connect their lips together in a messy kiss, well aware that her lipstick must be all over both of their chins now. She backs away a moment later with a giggle, reaching up to wipe the makeup away from his face. He's correct in his assumption, taking in the way the rouge has smeared along the surrounding areas of her own mouth.

"You even look hot like that," Harry mutters and she scoffs, pressing a hand to his chest.

"Lemme head to the bathroom to clean up. I don't wanna look freshly fucked on stage."

He smirks at that. She's about to head off when he grabs her hand to spin her back around, just for another glimpse of her messy hair, spit-swollen mouth, and sloppy lipstick. He can tell by the crease in her eyebrows that she's ready to argue with him, whining about having a show to play in 15 minutes, but he quickly lifts his camera to capture a shot of her face before she has a chance to. 

"A menace," Y/N mutters, though she surges forward to press one more kiss to his lips, "An absolute menace."

Harry chuckles and loosens his grip on her hand, watching as her heels sound as a goodbye.

He doesn't have to look at his camera to know that that was the most beautiful picture he's ever taken of her.

[collectivecloseness]

Eddie Munson x Rockstar!Reader

Eddie got into the nearly nonexistent line, hours before the show he’d saved up for so long for, the sidewalk behind the black rope soon to be filled with your adoring fans, who’ll wait for you to enter the stadium, hoping for autographs. You were so kind, Eddie knew, that you’d give some lucky people your presence! Or the ones who were good attention grabbers, and oh was Eddie skilled at that! Easily he made his way to the front, and he stayed there after being one of the first in the row, and through intimidating the many people who tried to barge in front of him. Body firm as he held tight to the rope, and stuck in place.

Until you came out of your car. Eddie’s body went through a rush then, every cell in him firing up and making his body soar, as he became just another part of the cacophony of screams, jumping up and down in place while you headed down the line to the stage doors, waving at everyone who screamed your name.

He couldn’t believe he was seeing you again! He’d seen you a bunch of times, but he’d never gotten this close! You were so... amazing, this close up, and not just on a poster or record art. This was you, in all your glory, pumped before a show with that intense surge he knew all too well from his smaller gigs. And Eddie was not only starstruck, but lovesick...

You signed two people’s books, who were closer to your car, before you reached Eddie. His smile beaming as he realised you were stopping! And then you took off your shades, just to smile and look into his eyes. Just for him. His mouth dropped open.

“Hey! I think I saw you this morning, outside of Brent St? I recognised your hair. It’s soooo pretty on you!” You genuinely compliment him, seeming enthused at his looks. Asking him, like this was just a normal conversation between two warm strangers. And that was Eddie. You remembered him...!

Eddie literally can’t help but cry. Fat tears blocking his vision of his dream girl, so he swipes them quickly away from his face, even as they keep coming. The charm bracelet he made based on titles from your albums, scratching at his cheek. Eddie nodded hard, his voice loud and eager. “You’re right! That was me! I’m Eddie! I’m your biggest fan I- I’ve been to every show!!! Thank you so much! You’re the pretty one!” He hopes that last one was okay, swallowing a lot of spit as it blurts out. After he tried to cram every thought into his small one on one time with you. Nervous, but you making him higher than any drug in his stash back home would do to him.

But you keep smiling at him, and his breath stops, as you lean over, and so tenderly play with his hair. “Don’t put yourself down pretty boy. You’re beautiful Eddie!” Your fingers are still teasing the roots in his hair and Eddie just about melts. It felt so good. Eddie couldn’t remember the last time someone played with his hair, someone touched him like this. And you’re touching him! You! Trying with near pain not to close his eyes from your caress, your petting, because he wanted to watch you holding him so fondly!

You sign the little autograph book Eddie can barely keep a hold of, that’d he’d almost forgotten about, and he’s thanking you over and over, just word vomiting about how he’s been following your music since day one, how much he worships it! Mentioning an underground concert basement he saw you play in, which he sees your body light up at, knowing it was one of your very first professional gigs. While you keep on signing.

But then you take his hands, cooing audibly over his rings, before letting your fingertips play over them, up to his own pads. “These are guitar players hands, right Eddie?”

Eddie nods, eagerly informing you all about the model he plays, knees trembling as you’re holding his hands. His eyes flitting between how beautiful you are this close, and what you’re writing into his skin, as you take the pen cap lid between your dark lipstick, and focus on his hand. He swears he’ll get it tattooed. Whatever it is, as soon as he’s home.

Eddie looks as you finally (unfortunately) let him go. It’s not only your autograph on his skin, but some random word. Fleeting panic bubbles up in Eddie for a second, was he supposed to understand some kind of reference? But you explained straight away, “It’s a password.” You had leant in to whisper, ducking your hand and your mouth under those pretty curls to press your cheek to his ear. Giving you two some privacy. “Give it to a backstage manager before the show. But don’t worry, I’ll still remember you again, like I did today.” When you finally leant back, you winked at Eddie. A few fans behind you screaming into his ears at the display. But almost like only you and Eddie existed, you stroked those gorgeous curls you couldn’t believe you’d only seen today, knowing you wouldn’t forget them now you had been so blessed.

Eddie can barely nod, his hands gently holding onto yours as it starts to softly slip out his grip. His eyes as wide as his lips were thick, mouth on the floor as Eddie watched you slink away. Not taking your affectionate eyes off of his until the final second, where you put your shades back on, and turned around to sign one more picture. Before ultimately waving to everyone, and heading inside. Disappearing from public view, behind heavy doors, and butch security.

Eddie’s puppy eyes could finally leave you, head slowly creaking down to his hand that was just trembling. Especially as he looked and saw the black ink still there. That just really happened... Now Eddie wasn’t running to get to his front row place through the auditorium’s doors. He was running to any stage door, any, so he could obey you. To see why you gave him this password and why you wanted to see him! And so, just like you wanted, he could go follow his star...

[prongslvl]

HEARTSTRINGS - sirius black

PAIRING sirius black x rockstar!male!reader

SUMMARY after a much prolonged period of waiting for the time to make his move, sirius went with remus to find the one thing he needed to contact you— a telephone.

previous chapter (2/2)

a/n: last part of heartstrings! hopefully you guys liked reading it as much as i loved writing. I actually have a first draft for this, i wrote a phone call scene. let me know in the comments if u wanna see it lol

The city of London was bustling with people, cars, and double-decker buses, which Sirius learned to love. He paid no mind to those, though, and kept his attention on the nearest electronics shop, as Remus called it.

"There's usually a lot around here, so just keep looking," the boy instructed, sucking on a lollipop he had bought for the both of them. It wasn't the first time Sirius had tasted the sweet candy from all the gifts and souvenirs from Lily and Remus. But the one thing he was never familiar with, despite how many times the two had talked about it, was a telephone.

Apparently, he didn't even need to buy one with how many telephone boxes they pass. Before Sirius could venture further into the search for the shop, Remus kept on insisting that he just use them.

"I need to get a permanent one, Moony! How else will they contact me again?" Sirius reasoned to his friend, who refused to move from the box.

Remus shrugged. "You can owl him?"

The long-haired boy could only groan before he shoved him off the telephone box, apologizing to the person who was waiting behind them to use it. As the man entered the booth, Sirius glared at his friend, who raised both hands as he did. "It's not like he'll be weirded out by it; the guy knows all about it. Lily must've told him about how the whole owl system works."

"Probably, but that's not the point. Wouldn't it be weird to keep sending my owl to the muggle world for a muggle? Not even Hogwarts would let it go, nor would the Ministry of Magic."

"Will they? But you and James sent so many letters back then."

Sirius rolled his eyes, continuing to walk along the pavement while Remus followed behind. "You're a Hogwarts student, Moony,"

The taller boy managed to catch up with him as he nodded. "Right, I forgot about that part."

The two novice wizards had been looking around the streets for about 30 minutes when they finally found an open shop with various electronics that Sirius could see through the glass windows. Remus hurried him to the establishment, the door opening with a ding, announcing their entrance. The man behind the counter smiled at them kindly and introduced himself as Grant.

"Good evening! Take a look around and feel free to ask any questions, if you have any."

"Oh, I'll definitely have a lot of questions about these things, Sirius whispered to his friend, feeling slightly overwhelmed with how many options he had.

Another thing he wasn't very familiar with in London were the shops. He's been inside some, mainly for food, but never for materialistic things like a telephone. He wasn't told how many colors they all had. But Sirius wanted something discreet—a size and hue that he could easily hide.

He also needed it to be strong enough to withstand magic. There were only a few days before they came back to school after the holidays, meaning he'd be in Hogwarts 24/7 with no electrical outlet that could plug in a telephone. James' dad, Fleamont Potter, was luckily a very enthusiastic man when it came to mugging things, so their home was pretty much the same as Lily's. He'll be able to call whenever he likes, back home and, hopefully, in school too.

He and Remus were too engrossed in a conversation about what model to choose to notice the bell dinging once more. Their eyes only peeled off the telephones when they heard Grant say his spiel once more, turning their attention to the familiar face.

"Remus! Sirius!" Your voice resonated in the long-haired boy's ears, his eyes widening at the sight of you. His gaze wandered to your outfit, which practically screamed musician from head to toe. It looked like you were about to hop on stage again, but minus your guitar and the fact that you're in a telephone store.

You approached them with a smile, "Enjoying the city?" Your question made Sirius go back to reality, blinking away his thoughts of you, "Uh, yes, yeah! Me and Moony, we're just having a look around."

"Mostly him, though," Remus pointed at Sirius, "I'm just a tour guide right now."

You chuckled at his response before glancing at him expectantly, though he had no idea what the look was for. He turned to the brunette, who only gave him a shrug.

He coughed into his head, repeatedly telling himself to play it cool as he turned back around to the telephones. "I was thinking of buying one for future use, y'know? That sort of thing." The smile you gave him almost made Sirius choke on his own spit. He watched as you moved closer, took a quick inspection of the models, and grabbed a black one.

"These are the ones that I used. Easy to keep under the pillow, from personal experience. But it's just a suggestion. There's a lot to choose from."

"That's actually the problem—there are so many to choose from that I don't know what to buy." The two of you chuckled. "But if you praise that one so highly, I can try it out." Sirius reached for the telephone in your hands, his fingers brushing along yours. Your fingertips were rough and calloused, just like his palm from holding his broom whenever he played quidditch, but they were warmer compared to the last time he saw you.

The memory of the pub was a bit blurry. Remus told him he had too many drinks with James, causing both of them to get knocked out in the middle of the night. Next thing he knew, he was sprawled on the Potters living room couch while James was on the floor, still asleep.

After a few days, contemplating whether to owl you or not took over his mind, but he never found the guts to do so. As the holidays slowly got shorter, Sirius knew he had to make his move before he got holed up with homework. Five days after that night, he finally asked Remus to help him.

Deep down, he was a tad afraid to call you, even if he had the telephone. The thought of you forgetting him and only being seen as one night flirting bugged him to no end. But seeing you in the flesh and clearly remembering them, his heart swelled up, beating too fast for his liking.

"Well, I am one of the most trustworthy telephone users out there. Aren't I, Grant?

"Sure you are, mate."

You grinned at him as the two of you, including Remus, who could only watch the scene quietly, walked towards the counter. Sirius tucked the bag that had the new telephone inside, exiting the shop.

"Can I ask you something?" Your sudden whisper startled him, clutching at his heart. Sirius smacked your shoulder for the surprise, but you nodded nonetheless as you chuckled at his reaction.

He watched as you awkwardly fiddled with your jacket before speaking up, "Have you lost my number?"

The boy wanted to respond humorously, maybe joking about a dog eating it before he could remember the number, but your tone seemed genuine with how carefully you asked him.

"It's just—you never called or owled me after; I thought you forgot me." You buried your hand inside the pockets of your pants, avoiding eye contact as much as possible.

Sirius almost got whiplashed at how fast he shook his head. "Merlin, no. Why would I forget about it? I mean—" He paused, feeling embarrassed at what he was about to confess. "I thought you might have forgotten about me, actually.

You looked surprised, almost dazed. Sirius can tell you didn't expect his words. Your rockstar aura suddenly depleting into what felt like a lost puppy finally seeing his owner entertained him a bit.

"I guess we both thought of stupid things?" The half smile on your face turned into a grin, which weirdly reminded him of James when he realized he wasn't actually in trouble after being called by Lily. The sight of your expression and his thoughts made him chuckle.

"You both definitely did," said Remus. "One can say you two are too idiotic for the world."

A burst of laughter erupted between him and you, the brown-haired boy, who was shaking his head in disappointment for just realizing their situation. "Despite how much I hated thirdwheeling just now, it did tell me what I needed to know."

Sirius raised his eyebrows. "And what's that?"

"Maybe entering a shop without actually buying anything meant something."

He felt even more confused. He was about to pry even further before he heard you coughing, turning his attention back to you. If Sirius were none the wiser, he would think you had caught a cold. But seeing your shifting eyes and sudden demure action, the scattered pieces of the puzzle began fitting into each other.

This time, Sirius' cheeks were warmer than in his dormitory during the summer.

"There he is." Remus voice was nothing more than a whisper, but with how heightened his senses were right now, he was able to hear it.

"I wasn't stalking you or anything," You said, rubbing the back of your neck. "I was on my way to buy stuff for a gig with my mates ("Oh, they're the ones sneaking glances at us when we went out.) and I thought of greeting the two of you." The explanation helped Sirius recollect his thoughts, or was it the sound of your voice that did it? Lily's words of you being angelic kept repeating in his mind.

He wanted to answer, to reassure you that he would've done the same—the thought of engulfing you in a hug flashed through his mind, stopping further into that when he saw himself getting a tad bit closer to your face. But he couldn't. Would anyone be able to talk casually when it feels like a hammer is thumping against the walls of their heart?

Sirius glanced at the telephone inside the bag he held, then asked himself what kind of expression you had when you saw him.

Did you immediately disregard your current agenda just to make it seem like you accidentally met them? Sneaked out of view of your friends so you could approach him? Or maybe you thought of Lily, wondering why she didn't inform you of his presence as soon as you saw hum yet brushed it off; frozen in your spot yet eager to get even closer—just like Sirius did the first time he saw you on the stage.

Sirius was never decisive with choices that involved the good things in his life: accepting himself as Gryffindor, befriending the people that were never included in his mother's list, and finally, leaving his home for good. His friends sometimes think that personality trait of his can end up with a wand to his face, but he never gave it up. This moment made him thankful for himself.

"You did more than just greet us though." He finally spoke, giving you a smirk. He could tell you didn't expect his reply as you chuckled. Sirius wanted you in his life, and he's done pretending he didn't.

He began to walk again, feeling Remus loom over to his right as he followed, along with you on his other side. You faced the view of the sun setting behind the buildings, squinting your eyes with a grin.

"Got a bit excited," You replied.

"So much so that you ditched your friends."

"They're big boys; they can manage."

Sirius turned his head and said, "What a good friend you are."

You shrugged and said, "Somethings are more important right now. You paused for a second, making eye contact with him. "Like you."

Sirius couldn't contain the smile on his face, even though his life depended on it. A tinge of blush covered both of his cheeks.

"I hate the way you talk," He joked, making sure you knew it was a joke as you laughed. He liked how good you were with your words and how easily he swooned over them. Experience with lyricism gave you that advantage—Sirius needed to hear more of it.

He lightly shook the paper bag, the machinery inside knocking against itself. "I might come to like it if you tell me how to set up and use this thing."

Remus, who was letting himself be the third wheel again, spoke up all of a sudden. "I thought I was here for that." Sirius knew his friend too well to know Remous would rather be at home and laze around their last few days of vacation than be tutoring him how to put someone's number on the telephone.

He rolled his eyes and said, "Your job's been taken, unfortunately." Deciding to play along, he pretended to feel bad for him, even patting him on the shoulder to console him. The fake disappointment on the boy's face made you laugh.

"So sorry, Remus. I'll make it up to you." You joined, putting a hand to your heart.

"No! Nothing will ever recover me from this. (Y/n), you have wounded me," Remus said.

"I can lend you pictures of Lily trying to make herself fly and, might I add, failing at every click of the camera."

Remus' solemn expression went away as fast as the Golden snitch: "You got yourself a deal."

The exchange and the conversation made Sirius laugh, holding onto his stomach.

At the moment, he knew your presence in his life was permanent. He swore that in a blink of an eye, he could see you casually hanging around the rest of his friends, freely showcasing their spells in front of you. While of that's happening, you'll be at his side as much more than the boy who sang a song that immediately hooked him for life and taught Sirius how to use a telephone.

[livfastdieyoung69]

Nikki sixx or Tommy Lee x reader where reader is like a famous pop star bubbly persona and she meets them at a award show maybe (Turns out she’s a metal head)

Award Shows

(90s!Nikki Sixx x Metalhead!bassist!reader)

Award shows suck. Sure, you might win some cool award and get your five seconds of fame but was it really worth sitting at a table with a bunch of people you either don’t know or probably hated all night long? On top of that, there was no alcohol in sight. So here Y/N stood in the world's most uncomfortable outfit, with the guitairst of their band, Kacey Towers, whispering in their ear to look atleast a little happy as they tried very hard to hide their aggravation from the flashing cameras. They ignored the shouting papparazi and continued down the red carpet into the venue with a sigh.

Vinnie Lake, Static in Conspiracy’s very own singer, had already made a detour to some hot chick he saw, leaving the rest of the band to figure out where they’re supposed to be sitting. After confusingly whisper-shouting at each other for way too long, their drummer, Trip Ryke, finally went to go find a worker or something, leaving Kacey and Y/N to awkwardly stand and watch as the other artists found their seats way too easily. Y/N looked over to Kacey at the sound of him quietly giggling.

“Whats so funny, dude?”

“Look, your boyfriends here!” Kacey teased as his giggling continued. Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion before their eyes starting scanning the crowd again.

“What are you talking ab- oh, holy shit! Why did nobody fucking tell me he was gonna be here?!” Kacey kept giggling at their expense while Trip finally returned.

“What are we laughing at?”

“Nikki Sixx is here with Motley and Y/N is totally freaking out.” Trip let a little airy laugh out before speaking.

“Leave ‘em alone while they have a crisis would you? C’mon were over here.” Apparently they had been on the exact opposite side of the huge room which made sense because MC Hammer was sitting at the table they were standing by. The group weaved their way through way too many tables, Vinnie eventually joining them at one point.

“Are you sure were not lost? I think we’re lost.”

“We’re not lost Vin! Look, I see it right over there.” Trip pointed to their table as he spoke. Y/N immediatley turned around at the sight of the other band at their table but Trip caught their arm.

“No. No, no, no, no, no. Oh my god, no!”

“Oh, you��ll be fine, babe!” Vinnie had a habit of calling everyone pet names, especially his band members.

“I absolutley will not be, I’m totally gonna embarass myself infront of Nikki Sixx- who incase you didn’t notice is totally the hottest guy in the world!”

“Thanks.” Y/N whipped around with widened eyes at the sound of the smooth voice to find the entirety of Motley Crue watching the other band as if they were a reality TV show, and Nikki Sixx himself staring directly at them with a grin covering his face from ear to ear.

“You…are welcome. I totally already embarrassed myself so glad we got that out of the way.” SIC moved to sit down at the half of the table Motley wasn’t taking up, unfortunately forcing Y/N to sit by Nikki, much to their embarrassment.

“If it makes you feel any better, you’re pretty hot too. Its Y/N, right?”

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, that's me. And thanks, but I definitely don’t look like this normally, these pants are doing like half of the work. Can barely fucking breathe in these things.” Nikki let out a small laugh at their comment.

“Yeah, they don’t look very comfortable. Maybe I can help you take them off later?” It was Y/N’s turn to laugh now.

“Just cause I said you were hot doesn’t mean I’m a groupie, dude!”

“Dude?”

“Trip- the bleach blonde down there- has been saying it since I’ve known him and I’ve know him since…5th grade I think? It’s kinda stuck on me over the years.” Their conversation went silent, but not uncomfortable. Nikki spoke up after awhile.

“Hey, listen, I really like your guys’ music and I really like you, would you maybe wanna meet up and get something to eat, maybe write some lyrics or something?” Y/N’s eyes widened once again at his words.

“Yeah, I’d love that! I really like you too.” Maybe award shows weren’t so bad.

this is totally not what the request was but this popped in my mind and I thought it would be a cute idea 😭😭sorry bae

written with the 1990 MTV Music Video Awards in mind, i kinda hate this but I feel bad not putting something out so here ya go i guess! I’m gonna try to write some chapters for Bones and RND. it doesn’t really say anything specifically about it but I did make the reader a bassist cause we never get any attention and i felt like it lol

[nomizombie]

(2) Fanboy!König x Rockstar!GN!Reader 🎸🎤🎶

[SFW/Wholesome] ; more rocking out!!!! Mutual pining, gender neutral, no usage of y/n!!! Author has never been to a concert or been a rockstar, not proofread…

[A/N] ; ty for all the nice comments on my last post! my face is gonna be sore from all that smiling 😭😭 heres a continuation from the last part, hope you enjoy!!! :)))

Part 1

Your hand hovered over the call button. Would it be so bad to call him? I mean, he did write his number down. The least you could do is call it. Thats normal. Yeah, that’s completely normal.

You tapped the call button and waited (for 3 seconds) until you heard the familiar click.

Silence.

“Hello?” You called out.

More silence.

“This is König right?”

Even more silence. Unbeknownst to you, König was a trembling mess on the other end. He parted his lips and no sound came out.

“Ah, I’ll just hang up then. Must’ve been a wrong number-“

“The albums. Thank you for signing them.” A meek voice spoke.

“So you are there after all!”

You hear nervous laughter on the other end.

“Sorry. Um. Whats the word? Starstruck?”

You couldn’t help but giggle.

“‘s alright, König.” His name was getting easier to say the more you said it.

More silence.

“Your singing. It was great.” He spoke again. This time a bit more confident.

“Well, I would assume so since you have so much merch of me.”

“Ah. Right.”

More silence. He was a lot more awkward over the phone.

“So… do you like the band or do you like me?”

Even more silence. Maybe you pushed too far. Maybe a guy like him doesn’t like teasing-

“You. You’re a good singer.“

You chuckled as you heard his response. Nevermind that, teasing him was fun. You could imagine the shaky hands as he held his phone, the pink tips of his ears, and the quietness as he thought of a response. How cute.

“Only good?

You pushed further.

More silence.

“It’s amazing. I’m in a trance when I listen to you.”

Now it was your turn to blush from your cheeks to your neck. Such simple words but it felt so good coming from him.

...

You had never texted with someone so much. Especially not someone as kind as him.

Every waking second, you spent tapping away on your phone. Before you fell asleep, in between shows, even during a meal with your bandmates.

It started off simple. You sent him a quick thank you message for the necklace and he responded with an also simple thanks for the handshake. Then, he followed up with another message complimenting your performance, and that might've been when you started expecting his texts.

Weeks later, you two continued to talk nearly everyday. Obviously, people began to notice. Your small smiles and giggles were frequent enough that even your manager got suspicious.

“Got someone special?” She snickered as she gripped the steering wheel. You couldn’t see her face but you just knew that she was raising a brow at the rapid screen smacking of your phone.

“Huh?- No! Its just a friend…” you quickly clarified.

Her eyebrow climbed a little higher as she gave you the look in the rear view mirror.

“Doesn’t seem like just a friend.” She laughed again, noticing your red cheeks, "Hey, I won’t get mad, I promise.”

Your cheeks continued to burn as she tilted her head to the side, silver earrings dangling and clinking as she waited.

“Okay, fine. He’s a fan from our December show.” You sighed. You really couldn’t hide anything from her, could you?

She gasped, “A fan?! Gasp! Our lead singer is into groupies!”

“He’s not a groupie! Its just- How do I explain this… He’s really fun to talk to.” This time your entire face burned.

“Fun, huh? Well I will warn you, dating a fan never goes well. Be careful alright? Can’t have our star vocalist getting heart broken now, can we?” She tutted her finger at you. Surely an experienced warning.

Before long you had arrived at the concert hall. This gig was probably the biggest youve had in months. Hundreds- no, thousands would be here tonight, watching you play. But, you could care less about the numbers, you only needed one person to come, the massive fanboy that you’ve been texting everyday the last few weeks.

You hands reach for your phone.

- im here at the venue. you almost here?

- Yes. Almost. Good luck with your show.

You two had been texting for weeks now, nearly everyday (or more accurately every hour) but he was still super formal with you. It was almost a little adorable that he still felt nervous interacting with you.

- awesome!! see ya :D

The typing animation played for a long time, disappearing and reappearing a few times before he finally responded.

- See you soon. 👍

An emoji. That's new. You grinned at the thought of him struggling to text you but that was quickly forgotten when you felt a cold hand on your shoulder.

"Stop texting your friend and start your warm ups! People are starting to come inside!" Your manager growled before quickly ushering you into your changing room.

By the time you stepped onto the stage, you were still struggling to rid your mind of thoughts of him. It's funny how much this boy has completely taken over your brain. But nevertheless, you greeted the crowd, strummed your electric guitar and started off with a new song. This one about your most recent obsession.

As you sang, walking from stage end-to-end you found yourself scanning the crowd for your favorite fan. But, oddly enough, he was nowhere to be found.

"That's odd." You muttered under your breath. Seriously. You have a massive audience tonight and the only thing on your mind right now is König? Get your head in the game.

Sweat beads dripped down your neck as you jumped up and down on stage, hyping up the crowd as you continued to hit ever note. The music was the only thing you could think about. You soon fell into the groove of the song, but yet, he still remained at the back of your mind.

With one final strum, you sank to your knees, panting. When's the last time you had really felt the rhythm? You smiled. Your new obsession was your muse.

As you trudged off stage, a damp mess dragging your feet behind you, you suddenly hit a wall. A very tall and solid wall.

You hissed, rubbing your sore nose as you opened your eyes. Once again, the worn out logo of your band crowded your vision. Your gaze travelled upwards as you finally realized that this wall, is in fact, not a wall.

A pair of beady eyes in a balaclava stared down at you.

"Hi." He said quietly.

"K-König! What are you doing offstage?!" You suddenly remembered how sticky and dewy your skin was, how damp your shirt was and the crazed, frizzy hair. You smoothed your hair out and wiped your face on the sleeve of your shirt frantically.

"Why are you here?" You asked a bit more calmer this time.

His ears turned a light red as he averted his gaze.

"Well... I wanted to watch you from here... and your manager… let me in." He breathed. Pausing in between words as he grew a little redder.

"My manager- her?!" Your calmness had left just as fast as it appeared.

He blinked at you. A few seconds of silence before nodding his head and rubbing his neck nervously.

"Ja, that's right."

"Holy shit- wait, how'd she know who you are..?" You asked curiously. You had never once mentioned his name or described him to her.

"Oh, uh..." He thought for a moment, finding the words in English.

"She's my... How do I say, like- aunt but not, kind of like my mother's friend." He muttered the last part quickly.

That explained the collection of exclusive merch.

Noticing your confusion, he continued, "Ah, it's not important. Your voice, lovely as always."

"Thank you, König." You grinned at him, your eyes squinting as you smiled.

His eyes widened before squinting as well. The way you said his name always made his heart jump in his chest. Meanwhile, you just couldn't get enough of his eye-smile.

The conversation was silent again. He stared anxiously at you before lowering his head.

“Can I… ask you something?”

“Of course, shoot away.”

He went quiet, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, before continuing.

"Well- do you, um..." His signature stuttering and stumbling over his words.

You hummed curiously.

"Do you want to get a-a drink together? Later? I'll wait for your autograph session and then I was wondering if you wanted to go out perhaps, of course you don't have to it was a stupid question, wasn't it? Excuse me then, I shouldn't have asked-"

"Of course. I would love to," you cut him off. His rambling was strangely... endearing?

Shock filled his eyes before he chuckled nervously.

"Ah. Sorry- I got a little anxious."

"It's okay!" You laughed. How was this behemoth man so cute? “What time?"

"I'll text you." He smiled and you noticed how his eyes crinkled when he did. That was never going to leave your memory, was it?

dividers by @mmadeinheavenn !!!!

Hii!!! If you got it this far, tysm for reading!!! ❤️❤️ Lmk if youd like more!! I like this au but i would also love to expand! If you have any ideas my requests are always open :)!!!

[bowsellie]

Number One Fan

Chapter One

The Tipsy Bison was the most crowded you've ever seen it, and the makeshift stage taking up several feet of the room did not help the crammed feel. The lights were dim, and chatter was hushed as people checked their watches and prepared for the show they were promised. The first of its kind, Maria had said, with live music from one of the newer residents.

You were heading towards the bar, making a path through the crowd using your long stride and a string of "excuse me's". Just one shot, you promised yourself, for the nerves.

Approaching the already sticky counter, you set your elbows down and waved to catch the attention of the middle-aged bartender. "Hey, Seth, can I get a shot of fireball and a bottle of water?" He nodded, and you scrambled through the tiny purse on your arm to find the drink cards you were praying weren't already lost.

Not the first time, it seemed like your prayers were unanswered. "Shit, sorry man, I can't find the cards," you apologized, half to Seth and half to the shot sitting enticingly in front of you.

"Hey, don't worry. I've got an extra here," a husky, female voice said from beside you. You looked over to find someone you vaguely recognized--you'd done an assignment or two together, but had only heard her referred to as "Joel's girl".

"Oh, you really don't have to--" you began, but Seth was already taking the two salmon colored cards the girl had laid out.

"Old fashioned for you, Ellie?" She nodded, not meeting his gaze. Instead, the girl--Ellie--looked at you.

"It's no problem, I try not to drink too much," she said, sipping the Old Fashioned in front of her.

"What brings you to the bar, then? Doesn't seem like your kind of place," you asked. Trying to be polite, you attempted eye contact, but quickly looked away from the depth of her dark green eyes.

"Heard there was a show tonight, first chance to experience live music...ever. I was curious."

"Yeah?" you asked. "What kind of music do you usually listen to?"

"Whatever I can find, mostly. I have no idea what the person performing is doing, though. Hopefully it's good."

Your lips pursed in a coy smile, but before you could find something witty to say the lights in the bar brightened and dimmed again. "Better go find a good spot," you said. "Thanks for the drink." With that, you stood up and made your way through the crowd to the side of the stage. Mia and Jayden were ready, holding their guitar and bass as you grabbed the mic and flicked the "on" switch. With that, the three of you were on stage.

"Hey everybody!" you said, smiling into the crowd against the lights and waving as if you could see them. "I'll be singing for you tonight, some original songs and some I've heard around. On guitar we've got Mia," you said, pointing your body towards her as she played a lick that drew cheers, "and on bass we've got Jayden." The smaller boy slapped and plucked a quick baseline, drawing his own applause. "We're the Floaters!"

Mia and Jayden began the first song exactly in the way you rehearsed, giving you a few bars to breathe and prepare before launching into the first verse. As you sang, your shoulders dropped and your breathing regulated as you remembered that this is it--this is what you've always done. Who cares if it's a new crowd, new town, new people? The music is always the same.

As the set went on, your eyes began to adjust to the crowd. Scanning, making eye contact, smiling at audience members to make them feel the connection you loved creating. Nowhere, though, was the auburned hair girl from before. Maybe this isn't her scene you thought, back turned to bar between songs. Maybe she was hoping for something else.

It wasn't until your eye was drawn to the bar that you saw her. In the same place, in the same position, sipping the same Old Fashioned with her intense stare on you. This time, you held it back. For far longer than was appropriate, you sang the song at Ellie, locked in a game of staring chicken that she seemed reluctant to lose. It wasn't until the end of the song, and the end of a set as a whole, that you were able to look back towards the rest of the group to bow with your bandmates.

When you looked back to the bar, hoping to catch her eye again, Ellie was gone.

[velvetcloxds]

hi hon! requesting an I’M LOST for remus taking care of drunk rockstar!gf

"No, no, no, listen-" You were equal parts earnest as you were drunk and Remus to the best of his attempts couldn't focus much on the first one.

He had managed to escort you out of the club, only because you were too busy giggling as he threw you over his shoulder to realize he was taking you out of the club in the first place.

"I'm listening, dove," he was definitely trying to, hands gentle yet forceful as he placed you down on the pavement, one hand staying on your shoulder to keep you still and the other waving over your car.

"I'm just saying if they're going to throw bras at me," you paused for effect but also to deliver an arguably adorable hiccup as you gripped onto your boyfriend's shirt for balance. "They shouldn't be bigger than mine, you know, that's rude," another hiccup and a little huff followed it. "Offensive, actually, right, Remmy?" he hummed, though only to humour you as he opened the car door, hand covering the doorframe as he guided you into the car.

"Scootch over, won't you, sweetheart?" he should've known better than to say it like that, the hand covering your mouth as you giggled something terrible at the nickname as if he'd not used it thousands of times before. You obeyed either way, but definitely making a right fuss about it, reaching out to pull him in next to you, not offering the same level of care for his head as he hissed from beside you.

"Shit, sorry, Rem," you were quick to wipe a lazy hand over the spot he'd hit against the door and place a sloppy kiss right over top it and he was the one to laugh lightly then, not surprised when you immediately shifted about to lay your head on his lap, legs up against the window. "We should put it on the poster, I think," he knew what you meant, took note of it but pushed for more anyway.

"Put what on the poster?" he brushed his finger up and down your nose, you knew why but you allowed him to do it still, if he made you fall asleep in the car it meant he'd have to carry you up to the hotel and that sounded like a win to you.

"Big boob girlies should throw panties at me instead."