#you see this in the club wyd?

[iristhepng]

WHAT! ARE THOSE DANCE MOVES!!!!!

HELPP WHY ARE THEY MOVING LIKE THAT

[cannibalmukbang]

this is The Duke to me. you could find that man bussin it down sexual style at the mardi gras revel.

[faarkas]

the gang tries to get along -a gift from my beloved absolutely iconic @nuclearstorms

[yonpote]

you see her at the pink pony club wyd

[snvffsoda]

some silly/random headcanons i have for Strade, Ren, and Lawrence!!

i know a lot of people like to think he kidnaps people from the same bar, using the kind of pick up lines, but that wouldn’t be an efficient way to keep the bodies coming, and he knows that, how long until someone catches him dragging an unconscious/unsuspecting person in his car? And makes a call to the police? Strade doesn't take chances, not with the cops, he may be insane, but he's still extremely smart at what he does, he would go out to clubs, late-night parties, concerts, crowded busy areas, anywhere he could slip in and find someone and leave toghther with less caring eyes on him.

has cut his finger while using his power tools and made Ren suck the blood from his finger before, not because he wanted comfort or anything he just wanted to see Ren's sheepish look while he did (Ren enjoyed it too for the blood, albeit nervously)

Strade is a confident, charismatic man, but i still think no matter how hard he tries to hide his sadistic psychotic tendencies, they bleed through him with the way he talks to people, you always get this underlying feeling of unease when he speaks which is why he prefers alcohol to be involved to get his victims, it'd be harder to notice Strade’s eyes staring just a little too long for comfort when you're 4 shots in

always keeps eye contact, almost to an uncomfortable amount, it feels like he doesn't even blink half the time his stare feels like his eyes are always threatening to pierce your skull open and see what's inside from his gaze alone.

Strade is strong, but he's no amazing fighter, if you're fast enough, and have the intent to win, or to kill him i dont think his brute force and heavy swings will do much plus i think he uses a lot of street fighting tactics ie; slamming, grabbing you and pinning you, using weapons instead of just his fist to his own detriment (and that’s what i think got him killed)

really good at texting, he's very descriptive when he texts almost like you're really speaking to him on the phone or in person, he doesn't use a lot of slang or emoticons, Doesn't abbreviate his words like ‘idk’ ‘wyd’ so on, and lots of Periods. Commas, exclamation points! might reply to something funny he sees with a ‘LOL’ in all caps or ‘😂’ but that's it.

really really wants to learn guitar efficiently, but his claws always cut and get caught on the strings when he tries to play so whenever he does try to play he plays with a pick, he doesn't play the best because of it, it was one of the first things he bought with Strade’s money after he died since Strade didn’t want him to get one because it was ‘too noisy’

avid gamer and discord user to an unhealthy amount, and will spam you with messages when you dont hop on the game he's spam inviting you to play with him

sleeps on Strade’s old shirts and pants and coats, anything to where he can get his scent again in his room will sometimes cry himself to sleep thinking about him when laying on them, muttering to himself how sorry he is for letting him die

he remembers and still can understand basic Japanese formalities and such, he's since tried to relearn his native language online, and he did horribly because he forgot almost everything

sassy, when he's stressed, or angry, he can and will be sarcastic and make sly remarks regarding the situation to you, roll his eyes, cross his arms, mutter to himself, just more on the pouty side when it comes to handling his stress

has a collection of old chew toys, he's torn and bitten through with his fangs when his more animalistic tendencies kick in when he's in heat or just needs to keep his mouth busy

has been sent to psychiatric mental hospitals many times before when he was an adolescent by his family he never made friends or spoke much when he was, he did well, and never caused trouble

he’s fallen asleep while in the bath and somehow hasn't drowned himself hundreds of times he can't help it, it reminds him of the river,,

smoking weed helps him sleep through the day, it keeps him in a deep sleep since he's a light sleeper, so he isn't startled awake by his neighbors stomping about during the day

enjoys horror movies like ‘Jacobs Ladder’ and ‘The Jacket’ movies where the protagonist feels as though they are already dead or trapped in their mind, he relates to that feeling when he watches those films

would definitely be the type to go nonverbal when he is high, resorting to nods and shaking his head to get his point across if he's with you and comfortable around you

hates sweet tea and store-bought tea in general, he hates the way they taste and the texture they leave on his tongue, he prefers making tea himself with his plants and the ingredients he grows

[bigandsoft]

You look across the club and see a fat demon staring at you wyd?

Super fun sketch commission for @enbywerewolf !

[sickfreaksirkay]

wyd if you see me at the club wearing the im gawain doing gawain things t shirt. would you ask me to be your third

[sageworld]

The Christmas Kids • Rafe Cameron. (part II)

“the christmas kids were nothing but a gift,

and love is a tower where all of us can live.”

he was really sweet in the beginning but then something changed

WARNINGS • Cheating, mentions of sex work, reader catches an STD, overall just a upsetting chapter

christmas kids masterlist; here

06/13/2021

it had been hours and you couldn’t stop the tears. you laid yours’ & rafe’s half full bed in your pajamas sobbing your eyes out.

1:34am

your bed side clock read, rafe still wasn’t home he had texted you saying he was going out with top & kelce to watch the football game at the local bar around 7:30 & that was the last you heard from him.

you ponder back onto the events that had happened before that. you had walked into your local planned parenthood, complaints of vaginal pain, slime like discharge & a overall smell that you’d been insecure about for about two days now.

“hi mrs. cameron, im maddy & i’ll be your nurse today. i see on file that you want to get STD tested today.” your nurse greets you while closing the door behind her.

“yes, i’ve been having some issues and i just wanna make sure.” the small talk continues on for some time before she gives you the small green lidded cup & you head to the bathroom.

as you finish your business you leave it in the small metal box in the bathroom, going back to wait in the nurses office like directed. the nerves running through you.

bing

your phone buzzed.

rafey💍🧿: hey babe, just checked your location. wyd?

y/n: just been having some cramp issues is all.

you put your phone down when the nurse comes back in, your phone binging as you do so but you choose to ignore it.

“hi again, so we got your results back & unfortunately you’ve tested positive for chlamydia.” you don’t hear much past that. trying to swallow down the lump in your throat, focusing on trying not to cry in her office.

“mrs.cameron?” she tries to gain your attention to which you look up to her from your chair, teary eyed. “you will have to alert all partners you’ve been with-.” “i’ve only been with my fiancé, they’re must be some mistake.” the tears start to fall.

“i know this is hard, you should recommend your fiancé come in for some testing as well.” she rubs your back. “i want to be tested again, there must’ve been a mistake.” you sob, feeling the headache coming.

“mrs. cameron, we can test again but i can assure you that you’re positive for it, im gonna prescribe you some antibiotic that you can pick up at any local pharmacy.”

fast forward back to now, over pondering on the events of the day. your heart aches, you knew rafe. you knew of his infidelities but the thought never crossed your mind that he wasn’t using protection.

a nervous rumble fills your belly as you hear the roar of his trucks engine pulling up in your drive way.

2:57am

your clock now reads, football game my ass.

you knew he was never really watching football, rafe had more than a few addictions. somewhere in between the cocaine and money, strippers had fell into it. there was a club about 30 minutes away on the mainland that you’d seen rafe’s location at a few times. and after a few text searches you knew top & kelce had always gone with him.

at first you didn’t think it was bad, you’d looked at other guys before while in the relationship, hell for your eighteenth girls sleepover your friends got you a male stripper as a joke. that was until you woke up and saw nearly 2900 had been withdrawn from your & rafe’s account. it didn’t say what on but you could only assume he had taken out cash.

as time went on & it got worse, you could only wonder. why them?

he was engaged to you but he always found his way back to them. why couldn’t you be good enough? it felt like no matter how many hours you spent in the gym, no matter how clean and lean you ate it wasn’t enough. you always wondered if he was bored of your body, seeing the same things over and over again. but, that’s not much of a topic you should be thinking about.

you try and contain your sobs as he opens your bed room door, stumbling over to you. it’s clear he thinks your asleep. “mm sweet kitty.” he slurs, liquor taken over him as he bends over the bed to plant a kiss on your forehead.

you don’t move or dare open your eyes even after you hear the door to your master bathroom shut & the shower water turn on.

you shove your face into the pillow and quietly sob, the pillow nearly soaked from the hours you’d spent crying, salivating & snot running onto it.

3:26 am

you quickly open your eyes to see the time as the bathroom door opens again, he turns off the light before hopping into his side of the bed, cuddling you under the covers. even though your backs faced to him you can now smell rafe and not some cheap whoreish perfume.

you debating for a bit, should i tell him or wait till tomorrow

but as soon as you get ready to turn you hear his soft snores.

6:24 am

despite the lack of sleep you’re up early & cannot stand the idea of staying cuddled up with rafe. you quietly get up and sneak away, grabbing a cute gym two piece set.

after doing a few hygiene things and grabbing the essentials, gym bag, pre work out, stanley, airpods & a small protein bar for the road you’re off.

working out was always a good way to clear your mind, just put your airpods in and focus on you.

your body drips in sweat as you’re 30 flights into your stair master. you’d done a few other things and had been here for god knows how long.

buzz buzz buzz

your airpods ring in your ears.

FaceTime call: Rafey🧿💍

you hesitate to answer but decide to anyways.

“mm kitty, why’d you run off so early?” rafe answers, sleepy voice and still in bed.

“just wanted to get out the house.” you simply answers,looking down to focus on the stairs. “should’ve woken me up i would’ve come.” rafe frowns. you shrug on the camera, “what’s wrong?” rafe asks, your attitude upsetting him.

“nothing just have somethings i need to talk to you about when i get home.” you can tell what you said make rafe anxious as his eyes open a bit.

“really kitty? about what?” his voice holds excitement. ok so maybe not nervous.

“im finishing up here and i’ll tell you when i get home.” the conversation goes on for a bit longer with rafe just wanting you to tell him but untimely he agrees for you to tell him at home, after saying your goodbyes and love yous, you make your descend off the machine.

you don’t wanna go but decide it’s for the best, packing your stuff into your gym bag & making your way out the door.

it feels all too soon as you walk into the front door of your house, the tv playing loudly. it’s a saturday so rafe’s off today, the sound off last nights football games highlights playing.

“hi kitty.” rafe smiles, man spread on the couch still in his pajama pants and no shirt. “hey rafe.” you say blandly, the sight of him disgusting you. “c’mere kitty, what’d you wanna talk to me about.” he pats his lap for you to sit. “i-i think i’m gonna shower first.” the definitely wasn’t a conversation you wanted to have with rafe.

you were sure, rafe knew you knew he was cheating. yet the one or two times you had even slightly brought it up he shut it down saying he didn’t know what you were talking about. you knew he saw your face when you once saw a hickey left on his neck that wasn’t from you. when you can smell another woman on him, when he comes home at the late hours of the night/early hours of the morning.

“no, no. i have to shower too but let’s talk first.” rafe’s voice is soft, inviting it usually is when rafe thinks he gonna get home kind of good news from you. what does he think i wanna talk about?

“rafe, have you been using protection like when you’re having sex?” the lump in your throat forms as rafe sits his body up completely, nervous look on his face. “well uh-kitty we don’t use condoms but you’re on your birth control.” he runs his hand through his hair, a tall tale sign he’s nervous or feels like he’s been caught.

“not with me rafe and, i swear to god if you’re not honest with me i will walk right back out that door and i will not come back.” you’re frustration only grows.

“i-i usually do but just sometimes i don’t but i promise when i don’t i pull out or-or-or i make them take a plan b in front of me i swear.” rafe stands fidgeting with his hands as he steps closer to you. “whyre you asking me this?” rafe stops in front of you, voice shaking.

“i went to planned parenthood yesterday & turns out i have chlamydia. we both know you’re the only one i’ve ever been with so, yeah.” you nod your head, a tear falling as you bite your lip.

“so you’re not pregnant?” rafe’s head hangs low as he reaches for you, making you step back. “why the actual fuck would i be pregnant?” is that what he thought?

“well i saw you went there yesterday and you said cramps but i knew you weren’t on your period because we’ve been having sex like everyday, so i just thought.” rafe explains, grabbing his hair in both hands before letting out a breath of air & before you know it he’s hyperventilating.

“r-rafe, calm down.” you wanna tell him it’s okay just to get him out of this state but it’s not okay, it’s not fair to you. you walk up to him and he begins to slowly place himself on the ground, one hand on his chest and one still in his hair and he tries to find his rhythm to breath. “rafe you need to calm down, now.” your tone more stern as you get down next to him.

“i’m so sorry my kitty, im so fucking sorry.” he sobs into your stomach. “rafe, stop fucking cry please and let’s talk.” you’re over it at this point. you’ve been cheated on, embarrassed & given an std by the man who’s supposed to love you the most & he’s here crying.

he looks up to you, shocked by your tone. “o-okay.” he sniffles, sitting his back up against the side of the couch.

“i’m just going to keep it simple rafe. i want you to go to planned parenthood for antibiotics, i want you to stop fucking these bitches, i expect you home by no later than 10:00pm and if you can’t do that then the weddings off.” you shrug and let out a sigh at the last part. “o-okay, i-i promise.” he stutters out when suddenly it hits him, “please don’t take away the weddding.” his sobs almost remind you of a child who’s favorite toy has been taken as he goes back to crying into your stomach.

“rafe, we’re still getting married as long as you get your shit together.” you sigh, scratching his scalp with your acrylic nails which you know he loves.

“i swear baby, im gonna ma-make this right.”

god i hope so.

[shittysawtraps]

you see john kramer and all his apprentices at the club. wyd?

[dapper-lil-arts]

There's the multiversal villains club that we see , villains from across the multiverse go there to gamble and drink

I remember lmao, and they STILL use a mirror to get in. Its made by discords cousin or something? I saved this because I think its funny

Wallflower, girlie, wyd here. You hated 1 girl you're not a universal bad guy

[eclecticqueennerd]

Bad Idea Right?

*inspired by the song ‘Bad Idea Right?’ by Olivia Rodrigo.

*Language, smut, violence, breakup, alcohol consumption* Billy Butcher x reader

It’s been a few months since you left the boys. The direction Butcher was leading the group was a surefire plan to get you all killed and you wanted nothing to do with it. Convincing Butcher to take a moment to mull plans over instead of going in guns blazing was a tall order, one that ultimately made you decide that a relationship with him was not worth your life. You tried to convince the rest of the gang to leave but all that got you was a bunch of noes and a broken heart. Butcher, even with all his asshole ways, held your heart in his hand and it hurt to walk away from him. At least you have Annie keeping you company.

-Wyd 2nite?

Tearing your eyes away from the TV as you lounged on the dingy bed of your motel room Grace Mallory stashed you in, you typed out your response to Annie.

-nm, u?

-wanna meet up w Kimiko n go out?

-yass!

You and Annie meet up with Kimiko just outside of a nightclub. After you gather and exchange hugs, you go in and begin drinking and dancing to the heavy bass playing on the stereo. Multicolored lights flash all around you as you allow yourself to succumb to the party atmosphere. After the song ends, the three of you spot a booth off in the corner of the club and make your way there, stopping at the bar to refill your drinks. The three of you catch up. Annie was still in Vought Tower, Kimiko still working with Frenchie and The Boys. Kimiko gives a recount of how everyone else was doing in the group, including Butcher.

‘He really misses you.’ Kimiko signs. ‘We all really miss you. You should come back.’ You shake your head.

“No, I think it’s better for me to stay away. Butchers gonna get someone killed.” You could feel vibration coming from your phone in the pocket of your dress. Lifting it in front of your blurry eyes you blink a few times to clear them. You try to make out the name but it’s an unknown number, you declined the call.

“Besides, he probably hates me now.” Vibration came from your phone again. *Decline* Another call from the unknown number.

“He doesn’t hate you, y/n. I don’t think-” Annie begins to say but then you interject,

“I’m sorry, I gotta take this. This asshole keeps calling me.” Walking out of the club, you answer the call and before you can talk, you hear a gruff voice on the other line,

“Y/n?” You’d recognize that voice from anywhere. The last time you heard him speak was four months ago when you told him you were breaking up with him.

“Y/n, you there?”

“Butcher?”

“I need your help.”

“What happened?”

“I’m hurting real bad. I need you to come help me.”

“If you’re really that hurt-”

“Y/n, please.” You hear the desperation in his voice. He never begs for anything; he must be down bad. You let out an exasperated sigh and then *click*.

“Butcher? Billy?” You look at the phone screen and see that the call has ended. *ping* An address pops up on your phone. You sigh again. Tapping the edge of your phone on your forehead in frustration, you make your decision. You meet up with Annie and Kimiko and tell them that you’ll catch up with them later, you’ve got something you have to deal with. Rather, someone. But you didn’t dare tell them that.

Hailing a cab and telling the driver the address, you kept thinking this was not a good idea. From what you heard from the gang; Butcher did not take the breakup well. He broke things, drank more, and pushed everyone to their breaking point. MM had to leave the group to regain his sanity, only to return shortly after leaving. Kimiko recounted that Butcher was better when you were around. So why the hell was he calling you if you caused him so much pain? Watching the progression of your map marker reach its destination on Google Maps, your heart began to beat harder in your chest. The car stopped outside of a tall brick building. Tipping the cab driver you made your way in, texting Butcher and asking which level and unit he was in.

Trekking up the steps, heart pounding in your chest, the blurriness in your eyes from the booze now cleared, you made your way to his door. *knock, knock, knock* The door swung open, and across the threshold was Billy Butcher. Still the same handsome man you turned to putty for not too long ago. He stood before you shirtless, clad in green sweatpants. Your mouth went dry, and the screaming thoughts in your brain telling you to march right back down those steps ceased. The two of you just stood there, staring at each other.

“You uhh… gonna let me in or what?” Butcher blinks and then makes an opening for you to slip through. Hearing the soft click of the door shut behind you, you take in the emptiness of his studio apartment. The only furniture in the room was a pull-out bed with tangled sheets, coffee table covered in empty alcohol bottles and a box TV on a beat-up nightstand. You feel guilty for a moment as when the two of you were together, the apartment you lived in never got to this state.

“You said you were hurt?” You said as you turned around to face Butcher. He just stands there, holding a sweating beer bottle in his hand, eyes scanning you up and down. His eyes settle on your cleavage. You snap your fingers to get his attention. It works.

“What did you need help with?” Butcher explains that he needed to be patched up on his back. Turning him around you see that it’s scratches with some gravel lodged in the deeper lacerations. Most of the wounds were superficial, and none of them needed sutures.

“Jesus what did you do tonight, Butcher?”

“Got in a tussle. You gon help me or not?”

“Yeah, turn around.” As you begin cleaning the wounds on Butcher's back, your thoughts then return telling you that you should not be here and you should have gotten MM to clean his back up. After using a tweezer to pull out the small bits of gravel from his back, you grabbed a paper towel and doused it with hydrogen peroxide.

“This is gonna sting.” Before you got a reply out of him, Butcher hissed at the light dabbing you placed on his wounds with the paper towel. As he hissed, you saw the muscles in Butcher's back tense, reminding you of the times he had you on your back and was fucking up into you, head cradled in the crook of your neck, giving you a perfect view of his shoulders and back. You shake your head.

“Okay all done. Be more careful next time.” Throwing the used items in the trash bag and make your way to the bathroom to wash your hands in the bathroom sink. Splashing cold water on your face, makeup be damned, attempting to slow down the growing desire in your core. Walking out of the bathroom, you spot a Hawaiian shirt on the floor, torn and bloody. You look down to inspect it.

“Aw man, this was the shirt I gave you for your birthday. It’s fucked.” You see Butcher pouring two glasses of amber-colored liquor, and he offers you a glass.

“My favorite shirt.” He replies. You shake your head to decline the drink, but Butcher, being who he is, insists. Yanking the glass out of his hand and downing the amber liquid in one gulp, you set the glass down on the counter. You give him a brief goodbye and walk toward the door. Butcher grabs your wrist; you turn and see a silent plea in his eyes. Your brain screaming at you to fly down those steps and out of the building, your heart telling you to be in his arms again. He’s not good for you, he’ll get you killed.

Fuck it, it's fine. You pull Butcher down into a feverish kiss. His mouth met yours with as much passion. You both shuffle to the edge of the pull-out bed, and you push Butcher backward. He falls back easily, letting you take the lead. You go to remove your dress when Butcher places his hands on yours and assists you in pulling it over your head. Once the garment was removed, you straddle Butcher and continue kissing him with the same fiery passion as before, his hands roaming all over your exposed form. You sit up and rock your hips against his, generating some friction for your needy core. Locking eyes with him, you see that Butcher's hazel iris is now covered by his pupils, eyes entirely covered in black. After a few more hip gyrations, Butcher pulls you back down to kiss you. He poured everything into the kiss, tongues, and teeth clashing. You pull away from Butcher and help him lower his sweatpants. Once free, you grab ahold of his throbbing cock and pump it a few times then line it up to your core, rubbing the tip along your slit. Butcher moans. As you sank down on him, you feel your cunt stretch to take all of him in. Once at full hilt, you take a moment to pause to get used to feeling him inside you again. Butcher sat up and rubbed your cheek with his thumb, wiping a few tears you didn’t realize were falling.

“I’ve missed you luv.” Butcher said as he stared into your eyes. It was as if he was looking into your soul, searching for something. You leaned forward and gave him a soft kiss on his lips as you began moving yourself on his cock. Butcher groaned, wrapping one hand around the back of your head and wrapped the other around your waist. The two of you moved in sync, you grind your hips to meet his light thrusts, gasps and moans filling the apartment. You feel the coil in your belly begin to tighten, Butcher felt it too. He then flips the two of you over to where you’re lying on your back and he’s positioned above you, grabbing your legs to wrap around his waist. He buried his head in the crook of your neck as he began to quicken his pace.

“Billy, don’t’ stop… I’m close.” You pant. Butcher takes his right hand and begins to rub circles around your clit, which pushed you over the edge. Butcher follows shortly after, spilling his cum into you with a roar. The two of you lay on the bed, fighting to catch your breath. After a few moments, you get up from the bed to get dressed. Looking for your dress under the bed, Butcher reaches his hand out and gently places it on top of yours. You look up at him and he says,

“Stay with me.” The internal struggle was real at this moment. Your brain tells you to leave, that this man was no good, but you loved Butcher. In the end, your heart won the battle, and you climbed in next to Butcher, snuggling up next to his side. Butcher whispered sweet nothings into your ear, promising you all the things that he said he would do from now on, and that he loved you. Silence fell between you. Just before Butcher fell asleep, you said,

“You know, Annie was proud of me for getting out. She’s gonna be pissed to hear that we’re back together.” Butcher turns his head to look at you.

“What’re you gonna tell her?”

“Oh, I dunno… maybe that I tripped and fell into your bed.” the two of you chuckle before falling into a restful sleep.

[vegaseatsass]

I'm rewatching Manner of Death with my friends who have never seen it in advance of 4 Minutes Friday, and experiencing Inspector M with people who have seen Wandee Goodday and more or less shriek like they're at a Beatles concert every time Great comes onscreen means I'm paying a lot more attention to his character this time around instead of just giggling at his incompetence and gratuitously tight uniform, then redirecting my attention. We all firmly believe he's in love with Doctor Bun but physiologically incapable of not fumbling that bag every chance he gets; I cannot believe M had a chance to court the hot doctor before every other character in the series fell in love with him, and he left Bun alone at a club to go pratfall into his future husband's arms instead of properly wining and dining him himself. Absolutely a metaphor for his police work. For me the absolute funniest thing M did so far was get REALLY insulted and upset when Doctor Bun said cops were wasting taxpayer dollars, like this really genuinely hurt his feelings, and go out of his way to follow ONE SINGLE CLUE (the abortion clinic clue he got from the journalist's laptop which BUN put all the effort and legwork into finding and rightfully steals back later), finally do ONE SINGLE PIECE OF WORK (but also arrest Fan, the town hero, so even his one win comes with innate-to-the-job copfails), and come running back to freely hand Bun police documents and bring him into a police interrogation just so he can be like see? see? I am helpful and good! I am still an eligible bachelor in a uniform three sizes too tight wyd tonight

Like he actually says out loud "Now do you think the police are wasting taxpayer dollars :D?" after he does this. He genuinely wants Doctor Bun's approval so badly despite making choice after choice that confirms every ACAB opinion he has. Lol I don't know if I can get across how funny I am finding it but I do think his writing is pretty great in that he is a COP cop, he obviously really believes in the police as an institution and will always choose them first and obey his commander's commands, but this hot man reading him to filth every time he turns around is still shaking him and making him want himself and the police as an institution to be able to be something they're not. Which is an entertaining position for an incompetent policeman to find himself in. I am enjoying it greatly.

[thewhiskersonkittens]

Drive In

Pairing: Pete “Maverick” Mitchell (Present Day) x Female Reader.

Summary: After unsuccessfully navigating the crazy world of online dating apps, you meet Pete “Maverick” Mitchell and agree to go to a drive-in and perhaps you have finally met your perfect match.

Warnings: Fluff, romantic, some profanity, toxic dating app horror stories.

A/N: This was requested by Anon. Hope y’all enjoy! :)

Back in the day, Maverick considered himself to be quite the Casanova. It used to be so easy, come so naturally. Maybe because thirty years ago he was a lot younger and his jet black hair wasn't fading. His body was still firm and taunt, in his line of work it was a major priority to keep in shape, but his face had become worn, the skin around his green eyes now had wrinkles.

"You're still a very good looking man," Phoenix told him when she, Coyote, Payback, Bob, and Rooster was helping him make his dating app profile.

All eyes were on her when the aviator quickly added, embarrassed:

"Respectfully speaking, of course, sir!"

The guys chuckled while Maverick tried to hold back his amusement.

Coyote let out a low whistle.

"Ooo, Phoenix got the hots for Captain." He teased.

"I do not!" Phoenix defended. "And I swear to God, if this gets back to Hangman, I'll kill you."

She shot a death glare at Coyote, that made him straighten up quick. She shot the look to all the guys meaning business.

Maverick patted Phoenix on her shoulder to assure her it was OK.

"Thank you, Phoenix. I appreciate the compliment."

He held up his phone and returned his attention back to the profile.

"Are you guys sure this is the right thing to do?"

He wrinkled his brow. The whole process seemed so unnatural to him.

"If you filled out all the questions honestly the algorithm will try to bring you the best possible matches." Bob commented.

"But the algorithm doesn't get it right 100% of the time." Payback added, looking at Maverick. 

"What do you mean?" Maverick asked.

"He means there might be a dud or two," Coyote answered.

"But still the odds are in your favor." Phoenix encouraged.

Maverick sighed as he closed the app and pocketed his phone. He was tired of thinking about it for now.

"There used to be a point in time when I could just sing to a woman in a club as a way of flirting."

"Sounds lame," Rooster finally chimed in.

Maverick gave him a pointed look.

"Lame, huh?” Maverick chuckled, the memories coming back to him. It all seemed just like yesterday but also a lifetime ago.  “Guess who was my wingman?"

***

You were two seconds away from throwing your phone across the room. You'd do it, too, not caring if it broke, the only thing was you knew how much you needed the damn thing.

Stupid dating apps. After trying a month without them, you were having zero luck dating out there "in the wild" so, reluctantly, you downloaded the toxic app again, damn well knowing it would all still be the same old bullshit. If it wasn't some fake bot, it was just the same losers over and over you matched with. You were going to pull your hair out if another dude sent "wyd?" at 11 am on a Wednesday.

You wanna know "what I'm doing?", Chad?! You thought. I'm at work at this time, that's where I am! Why aren't you doing the same?!

You didn't even want to think about how you basically had the same conversation over and over with these guys.

"Hello, beautiful baby gurrl. Good mornin!'"

"Hi, there. Good morning."

"How you sleep last night?"

"Just fine, thanks. HBU?"

"It could have been better. I'd rather be waking up next to you, babyyy."

" ... "

"Send me a pic?"

"No."

"Why not? You shy?"

"..."

" Hello?!"

*incoming unsolicited dick pic*

"You like dat? You like what you see? ;)"

" ... "

"Dat could be alll yours and more! You wanna come over later?"

"I don't think so."

"Why not? It's not like I'm gonna kill you..lol"

"...."

"Sooo...you gonna come over or...I could come over there?!"

"No. I don't even know you! I just met you five minutes ago."

"Don't waste my time! Ya know, a lot of girls like what I got. You're lucky I'm even giving you the time of day!"

"..."

"..."

"K. Go text one of them then."

" ... "

"Man, fuck you, bitch. Your loss! I didn't want your ugly ass anyway. LOL."

You sighed. Why was trying to find your person so physically and mentally taxing? Some of your friends actually had good luck on the dating apps but it was just not working out for you. You thought about all your options: keep trying the apps, try in person again, hell maybe even switch teams?! The best option was the idea of becoming an old, single, crazy cat lady. At this point, it sounded like the most peaceful choice.

You were laying on your back on your bed with one arm slung over your eyes, trying to block out all your frustrations.

Your phone next to you vibrated, signaling you had a notification.

Oh great, You thought. Can't wait to see what this one's got to say.

You picked up your phone, punched in your pass code, and opened the app.

Pleasantly surprised was an understatement! You had matched with the most handsome man you'd ever seen on any app ever.

He was definitely older, much older you were sure of it, but the age gap didn't bother you. He only had a few pictures but you saw he had dark hair, green eyes, perfectly chiseled nose and jawline.

Captain Pete "Maverick" Mitchell, USN.

As good as he looked, you couldn't help but have reservations. Living in San Diego, you had been on a few dates with military men before. They could be just as shady as the civilian Joe Blows, if not even more. Plus, he was way too fine looking to still be single. You tried not to judge. Divorced? Widowed? Perhaps he was looking for a last minute fling before his next naval cruise?

Your phone vibrated again and you saw he sent you a message.

"Hi, nice to meet you. I'm Pete Mitchell. But everyone calls me Maverick or "Mav".

"Nice to meet you! I'm Y/N." You typed back. "Cruise to any where fun lately, sailor?"

"What gave it away? The picture of me in my dress whites?"

"Not a bad picture, I must say." It was true. Technically he was old enough to be your father but he was still a smoke show. Silver fox, indeed.

"Ha, ha! Thanks. Ah, no fun cruises. I was recently called back to North Island for work."

You told him what you did for a living and you found out he was career military. A naval aviator for over thirty years. You kept chatting back and forth for the next two days and exchanged numbers. On Friday night Maverick called you.

"Look, I'll be honest with you, Y/N." Maverick explained. "This dating app thing...it's not really my style. My kids put me up to it. They said I needed to get out more and this is the way people do it nowadays. I just don't know..."

"Kids?" You repeated, slightly surprised he never mentioned it before. "You have kids?"

Maverick chuckled. "I'm sorry, I guess I should rephrase that. They're actually a squadron of Top Gun graduates I train. I call 'em my kids even though they're all about thirty-something years old."

You exhaled a sigh of relief. "Oh, I see."

"Anyway," Maverick went on. "How would you like to go out with me tomorrow night?"

You were pleasantly surprised again. Most guys you encountered on the apps were either one extreme or another. Some wanted to come over right away and others it was like pulling teeth to get them to actually take you on a real date.

"Is that OK with you?" Maverick asked.

"Oh, yeah!" You said. "Yes, that would be great! Dinner and a movie?"

"You read my mind," Maverick confirmed. "I was thinking I take you to the drive-in. They're doing an 80's movie theme night."

"Drive-in?" You repeated. You hadn't been there in ages. Maverick must have misunderstood your tone because he went to explain:

"Yeah, it's where they have a big outdoor projection screen and you pull up in your car..."

You burst out laughing.

"Pete," You started. "Come on. I know I'm younger than you but I do know what a drive-in is!"

Maverick laughed at himself.

"Sorry. Of course you do."

"That sounds like fun, Pete. Let's do it."

***

You knew you were breaking your own rules by allowing Maverick to pick you up but you felt like you could trust this man. Your jaw dropped when you saw the forest green vintage race car pull up in your driveway.

"She's a '56," Maverick explained as he helped you into the car. "She can go from zero to one seventy in about six seconds."

"Wow," You said, resting the bouquet he just gifted you in your lap. Out of curiosity, you ran your fingers along the dashboard. You'd never been in a car like this before.

Maverick started the car and began backing out.

"I usually just ride my motorcycle but this seemed more appropriate for the occasion."

You smiled. "I guess you have the need speed on the ground as well as in the air."

Maverick turned to look at you then as he shifted the car into drive and you weren't exactly sure how to describe it. It was like a mixture of surprise, curiousity, and a touch of sadness.

"Did I say something wrong?" You asked, concerned.

Maverick shook his head.

"No," He assured you. "It's just...so funny and...kind of weird you said that. 'The need for speed'. I haven't heard that in a long time. I had a friend I used to say that to. A long time ago. It was like...oh, what do you call it? Something that you and one other person knows?"

"An inside joke?" You suggested.

Maverick smiled. "Yeah," He agreed. "An inside joke."

"You don't talk to that friend anymore?" You asked.

"Oh, I do." Maverick replied. "I sure do. It's just...he's not here with us...physically anymore."

"Oh..." You realized and you felt a twinge of gulit in your stomach. This wasn't the best way to start off a date.

As if reading your mind, Maverick took one hand off the wheel and softly brushed the side of your cheek with the back of his hand. His hand felt callous, the result of decades of working on all sorts of aircraft, but it also felt strangely comforting. The feeling guilt in your stomach dissolved and felt something like butterflies replace it.

"It's OK, sweetheart," Maverick said and he really meant it.

After dinner, you two drove in the drive-in. A triple feature of John Hughes movies were playing. You and Maverick laughed when Kelly LeBrock turned Bill Paxton into a talking blob in Weird Science and cheered as Judd Nelson pumped his fist in the air at the end of The Breakfast Club. The final movie was Sixteen Candles and you couldn't help but sigh when Molly Ringwald finally got to kiss her dream guy.

"This is one of my favorite movies," You said.

"You like the romantic stuff, huh?" Maverick teased and you laughed.

"Yeah, I know it's cliche," You said. "But I can't help it. I'm such a sucker for it."

"Nothing wrong with that," Maverick told you. "Just between you and me...I'm a romantic myself."

He leaned in and kissed you and you couldn't help but smile against his lips.

When the two of you parted, your eyes fluttered open and you said:

"I know we just met but I feel so lucky to have found you. I was about ready to give up. The apps were driving me crazy."

Maverick rolled his eyes at the mention of the dating apps.

"I don't get them either," He said. "But I saw your picture and...I don't know. I just...thought you were really beautiful and I'm glad I met you, too."

You felt Maverick take your hand in his.

"If it's OK with you, would you see me again?"

You smiled and answered by kissing him again.

"Sure, I'd really love that."

[thisdingo]

Wyd if you see her at the club ~?

[froggirltits]

you see this girl in the club wyd ⬇️⬇️

[fizzypoison]

you see me at the alt club, wyd? x3