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#he met not only their kids but their descendants
cashweasel · 7 months
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I’ve not seen anyone talk about Julia Belmont yet which is crazy because,, she looks like this?! My honest reaction seeing her on screen was “damn boy that’s your mommy??” Can she be my mommy too? She’s stunning. I want her so bad rip tho queen
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andypantsx3 · 24 days
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𝑤𝘩𝑒𝑛 𝑖 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑒 : 𝑡𝑜𝑑𝑜𝑟𝑜𝑘𝑖 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑡𝑜 𝑥 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 : 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑖
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𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: In order to placate your anxious mother, you agree to return to your hometown to participate in a mating run—knowing full well that betas rarely get chased, never mind betas nearly old enough to age out of the practice. You’ve decided to treat it like a vacation, a chance to visit with your childhood friends, the mating run itself a nice relaxing hike. All in all it’s a solid plan—until alpha Todoroki Shouto, your best friend's little brother, steps in and blows it all to pieces. 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡: omegaverse, no quirks au, alpha!shouto, beta!reader, mating rituals, age gap, best friend’s little brother, older reader, afab reader, some class differences, aged up characters, semi-public sex, slight small town romance vibes, background implied dabihawks for some reason, smut, 18+; mdni! 𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑔𝑡ℎ: 5.7k | chapter 1 of 4
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Then
It was a freezing day in spring the first time you set foot in the Todoroki house.
You had shared a class with Touya for years now, and in that time you’d become something of his best friend. You’d bonded early over a mutual hatred of fish and your status as the two best tree climbers on the playground—two integral friendship quality bars if ever you’d met them—and your entente had strengthened over the following months.
After enough time together Touya had even seemed to like you, seeking out your opinion, deploying you like a shield between himself and the other kids. He wanted to be paired with you for group projects constantly, as he seemed to disdain the ability of the other kids in your class.
He eventually acquiesced to two other friends—Rumi and Keigo—as Keigo was a really fast runner, and Rumi could kick a kid almost clear across a playground. But the two of you remained particularly close, and a few years in, Touya had seemed to want to check the final box of your friendship.
That was the day he’d haughtily informed you that you were coming home with him.
You’d phoned your mother from the school office to obtain permission, and then pulled your jacket on to follow Touya out into the cold, his skinny legs beating a quick path through the streets.
You’d half-expected that Touya lived in a box behind a shop, with the way he descended ravenously on his lunches (as well as yours, and Rumi’s, when he could occasionally get them—though notably not Keigo’s, something that had only retroactively made sense to you as an adult). But the house Touya steered you to was enormous—easily the biggest house you’d ever seen—a stately pile at the end of a fancy neighborhood.
You’d later learn this was because his father was the mayor, and the Todorokis were neck-deep in generational wealth. At the time you’d been mildly annoyed, because what had you let him eat part of your lunches for if he lived in a house like this?
“I’m home,” Touya had called into the echoey foyer, grand but strangely barren. He’d kicked off his coat and shoes, discarding them carelessly—perhaps purposefully—on the floor, then gestured for you to follow him into the kitchen as a warm voice called out to him. “Welcome home, Touya.”
“I brought Y/N,” he announced grandly as he prowled into the room. To you he said, “This is my mother, Rei.”
The voice you’d heard resolved itself into a woman, tall, with beautiful long white hair and a small, but unmistakably fond smile on her mouth. You startled, immediately floored by her beauty. She looked just like Touya, the same delicate prettiness to her mouth, the shape of her eyes—but even lovelier. She looked simultaneously like she belonged on the cover of a magazine, and would be embarrassed by one saying so.
She also smelled like an omega—sweet, but a little wilder than you were used to. Like spring flowers blooming on a cold day.
“Hello Y/N,” she said warmly, turning to you. You gave a shy wave back, suddenly nervous in front of her.
As she turned you finally noticed the child on her hip—a small, round, pudgy little thing with half red and half white hair, and two mismatched grey and blue eyes that pinned on you immediately. It was wearing a horrendous polkadot onesie, and you felt your eyebrows raise without your permission.
“That’s Shouto,” Touya informed you, and the pieces slotted together in your brain. Ah, so that was the face to the name.
Shouto was the little brother Touya complained about incessantly—the one that was his father’s favorite, the one that stared too much and wanted to play with all of Touya’s toys even though he was too little for them, the one Touya was saddled with babysitting constantly. He’d made Shouto out to be this sort of tiny harbinger of evil—but Shouto did not look very evil, perched there on his mother’s hip.
He blinked at you, a flutter of surprisingly long eyelashes, for a baby. You had the thought that actually he was kind of cute. Most probably not a harbinger of evil, and actually very sweet-looking, if weirdly round.
“I need to be excused from Shouto duty,” Touya said, the question posed more like a statement.
Rei shook her head, a somber little smile playing about her mouth. “I have to make dinner before Fuyumi and Natsuo get back from their playdates and your father gets home. Why don’t you take Shouto to play with you and Y/N?”
Touya rolled his eyes in the long-suffering manner of a man who’d endured it all. Shouto didn’t seem to notice, however, his mismatched gaze barely detaching from your face. You noticed Shouto’s left eye was the exact vivid blue of Touya’s, and his other eye the same silver as his mother’s.
“He’s staring like a weirdo,” Touya complained, but collected Shouto from Rei anyway. Shouto let himself be passed over as placidly as a bag of potatoes, still watching you.
“Y/N is a new face for him, he’s just curious, Touya,” Rei said, smoothing Shouto’s hair down as Touya hefted him in his arms. Shouto reached out a hand towards you, fat fingers flexing.
“What, you think I’m some taxi service who’s gonna bring you wherever you want to go?” Touya demanded. Shouto ignored him, his little chubby arm wavering.
Strangely, something compelled you to step closer, reaching out a hand in return. Shouto seized it in his pudgy little fist, staring up at you with solemn eyes. His other hand reached out to you, too, twisting in Touya’s grip, and Touya let out an annoyed scoff.
“Y/N didn’t come here to hang out with you,” he said. But Shouto ignored him, his little hand fisting in your tee shirt. He seemed to be trying to lever himself up out of Touya’s arms and into yours.
You were startled, never having held a baby before, and Shouto was kind of a big one. But Touya showed you how to hold him under his butt and across his back, and you heard the rustle of his diaper as he was handed off to you.
“Hi Shouto,” you said, watching him watch you.
His eyebrows raised, some small happiness lighting up his expression, and he gave a little kick that wiggled his whole body in your arms.
“He likes you,” Rei said over the counter top, as she settled a cutting board and a pile of vegetables across it.
You looked back at Shouto, feeling weirdly pleased. Maybe babies weren’t that bad.
Touya made an annoyed sort of grunt, stomping past you. “We’re going to play in the living room,” he announced imperiously. You glanced at Rei to make sure that was okay, then followed Touya, Shouto heavy in your arms.
By the time you arrived, Shouto had settled a hand on either of your cheeks and seemed to be trying to stare directly into your soul, and Touya patted him firmly on the back, clucking. “Stop being such a little freak.”
“He’s fine,” you said, bemused. No one had told you really little kids were this intense and weird. But Shouto’s little round face was kind of sweet, and it was hard to be annoyed at a baby staring up at you, that clearly enamored.
“Actually he’s being way nicer to me than you,” you told Touya.
Touya rolled his eyes and busied himself pulling out a horde of action figures, legos, puzzles, and games, as well as a turtle with multi-colored blocks set into it that appeared to be for Shouto.
“Oi, it’s turtle time, weirdo,” he told Shouto.
That seemed to break the baby’s singular focus on you, and he peered around, lighting up nearly the same way when he saw his blocks as he had when he’d seen you. You laughed, and helped him settle on the floor next to you, watching his clumsy, chubby grip fumble on the blocks as he carefully removed them one-by-one from the plastic turtle.
Touya set up the legos around you, an older parallel of his brother, though you thought he would kill you for saying so.
A block appeared in your lap, carefully and deliberately placed by a fat-fingered hand. You smiled down at Shouto, picking it up and gesturing grandly. “For me?”
A grey-and-blue gaze attached itself solemnly to your face, as if awaiting your judgment, and an instant fondness swept over you. Who knew babies could be this cute—when they weren’t screaming and crying and generally being small and annoying near you. Touya had massively undersold his little brother, who was the sweetest baby you’d ever encountered.
You bowed your head, clutching your gifted block close to you. “Thank you, Shouto. It’s very nice.”
Shouto stared up at you, smiling a shy little almost-smile, clearly pleased. You couldn’t help but reach up and ruffle that distinct tuft of hair, taken with him already. Yep, definitely a good little kid.
And you decided then and there that you liked Todoroki Shouto—though for now he was a child—you both were children—and he could only mean so much to you.
You wouldn’t realize how much he’d actually come to mean to you, until many, many years later.
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Now
Touya’s white mess of hair was the first thing you spotted as you stumbled into the restaurant.
Outside it was unseasonably cold, an icy wind tearing through you as you’d rushed all the way from your mother’s house. The inside of the restaurant was blessedly warm, and slightly smoky from the meat and vegetables grilling away on each table top. Touya was on the far side, and you could see Rumi’s white hair beyond him, Keigo’s blonde riot of waves peeking over the top of the booth next to him.
Rumi faced the door so she spotted you first, a mouth-splitting grin overtaking her face as she waved you down.
You hurried your way over, letting out a surprised hrrk! when Rumi drew you down into a rib-crushing hug, her alpha strength barely contained. You fell into the seat at an awkward angle, your joints screaming.
“Well look what the cat dragged in! You don’t look a bit changed, you little beta cuck,” she crowed, making you choke on a laugh as you almost inhaled a mouthful of her hair.
“Rumi—!” you sputtered, half-pleased and half-scandalized that she clearly hadn’t changed in the years since you’d seen her last. She crushed you to her harder, and you could feel your eyeballs all but bulging like a rubber doll.
“If you plan to crush her to death you could at least wait until I clear the scene,” came Touya’s disaffected drawl from the other side of the table. “The last thing I need is police on my case again.”
That was so typical of him, too, after all this time.
“Good to see you too, Touya,” you said, even though you couldn’t get a look at him through Rumi’s hair. She ground her knuckles into the top of your head for good measure before releasing you, and you came up for air gratefully, watching the two men on the other side of the table grin at you.
Keigo looked exactly as you’d left him, a little bit more filled out than the skinny teen he’d been, the same wiry facial scruff growing in, those golden eyes alight with typical playfulness. Touya looked like he’d aged the most, his scars—fresher when you’d graduated—now deepened to the color of dark bruises. His features were still achingly familiar under them, however, the fine-boned prettiness of his mother shining through, his father’s blazing cerulean eyes the only nod to the other half of his parentage.
“So you really obeyed mommy dearest huh,” Touya said, pinning you with a smirk.
You rolled your eyes at him. As your closest childhood friend, he still knew all your weak spots, your mother the biggest of them. Growing up she’d been lonely and overworked, and you’d tried to care for her and please her the best you could. You still called her several times a week and sent back your wages to help pay for the house, and pay down the pile of debt your father had left her in when he’d died.
The concession of returning home for a few days to attend the annual mating run, as pointless as it was going to be, was the least you could do for her.
“You know as well as I do that no one is going to run down a beta,” you said, settling yourself in next to Rumi and shedding your coat and hat. “Especially not now that I’m well past newly-presented. It’ll be like a vacation.”
“You never know,” Keigo said, raising his fluffy eyebrows at you, his grin wicked. You flung the pile of your things across the table at him, but he intercepted easily, all alpha reflex. He stuffed your jacket down next to him, laughing at you.
“I do know,” you said emphatically. “And I’m not fussed about it. I don’t know who she thinks is going to pay her bills if I’m off getting dicked down by some knothead idiot.”
Touya made a dismissive noise and you looked around the table for something to fling at him too. He’d never had to worry about money, his future shored up with the Todoroki family fortune, built over generations and then basically quadrupled by his father. Since coming out of the correctional facility for a string of petty crimes, Touya had been skating by on family generosity, and you knew he wasn’t about to stop.
“Just burn her house down like mine,” he said, an unholy grin overtaking his face as he leaned forward. There was a light behind his eyes like he wasn’t entirely kidding. No one had ever been able to determine if the Todoroki family fire had been an accident or not, although Touya claimed it had been.
But you’d known Touya your whole life and you had your suspicions. Touya had hated his father for nearly all of your living memory—and the Todoroki men had an almost disturbing single-mindedness about them. You had long wondered if Touya’s fixation on his break with Enji had ever played into the fire that ravaged their house during your middle school years.
The one exception to the Todoroki single-mindedness was sweet little Shouto, who you’d last seen at your high school graduation. He was several years younger than you and had still been round-faced and chubby-cheeked then, all wide solemn eyes and pouty little mouth, just like when he was a baby.
You hadn’t seen him since, but couldn’t imagine Shouto turning out anything like Touya.
“I’ll take that under advisement,” you said to Touya, not liking how his grin widened.
Purportedly he’d come out of the correctional facility for good behavior, his record squeaky clean.
Purportedly.
“So why even agree to the run?” Rumi asked. “If you’re not looking to actually take anyone home?”
You helped yourself to the water that had been laid out before answering. “It’s just easier to appease my mother. She gets what she wants—some indication I’m open to my life mate-–and I get what I want, which is to be able to use this as an excuse next year.”
“Aww you won’t come back to see little old us?” Keigo asked. His tone was wheedling but his eyes tracked your expression carefully, always observing.
You smiled at him. You did miss your old friends, and you liked how easy it felt to sink right back into them after so many years away. You wanted to see them outside of the confines of a group chat or the rare facetime.
And you missed a lot about the town you’d grown up in. You liked the tiny storefronts of the downtown shops and the easy access to the coast and miles of hiking trails. You’d had a dream of opening up a little bookstore in one of the lovely brick buildings downtown when you were younger—but that was back before the staggering number of dollar signs on your mother’s bills had made themselves known to you and the romance of your daydream had begun to seem more like foolishness.
The bigger cities offered the bigger jobs, the bigger wages to send home. Even if it meant you could only see your friends every few years and mostly kept in touch via group chat.
“How about you guys come to me?” you asked. “There’s a chicken place I think Keigo will want to make the trip for.”
Keigo’s grin widened and he leaned in, interested. “Say no more,” he drawled.
On the table top, Touya’s phone vibrated. He peered at it, dismissing the notification with a swipe. “Rei wants to see you,” he reported, the usual blend of disrespect and unwilling fondness for his own mother layered in his voice. “She says you should come by the house.”
You smiled, pleased to be remembered. “I’d love that. Who’s living there now?”
Touya stretched, his back brushing the booth. “I do. And she does. Enji visits sometimes—” his tone was pointedly colorless “—and Fuyumi and Natsuo come by a couple times a week. Shouto is there almost daily for dinner when he’s not on shift, because his own cooking is absolute shit.”
You blinked, struggling to reconcile the idea of sweet-faced little Shouto with an adult who lived on his own now. “On shift?” you asked.
“He’s a fireman,” Touya rolled his eyes. “Little fucking do gooder. Ever since the house fire he’s wanted to.”
Your eyelashes fluttered again, your brain floating with the images of skinny, round-faced Shouto struggling to haul people out of a burning building. You struggled not to voice this disbelief.
“Wow, good for him,” you said.
“Not for me,” Touya complained. “Ever since he’s presented he’s been eating us out of house and home. Can’t find a fucking thing in the cabinets after he’s been through—”
And that shocked you, too, the idea that Shouto was already grown enough to have presented.
Objectively you knew he had to be into his early twenties at this point, but hearing the changes life had wrought on him was almost too much to contemplate. You wondered what he had presented as, and whether he’d be subject to the run this week as well. You’d always sort of suspected he’d be an omega, with that wide-eyed, beautiful face—almost a carbon copy of his mother’s, the same delicate prettiness in it as Touya.
And he’d been so sweet, too. When you’d been much, much younger—before Touya had become too cool and too emo for it—you remembered playing house together, remembered how often you’d dragged Shouto in to play the part of your son. He’d always sat there, a chubby-faced toddler, smashing blocks together and staring up at you with big eyes as you and Touya made plastic food and Touya unrolled a days-old newspaper collected from his father, bossing you around from his armchair.
Even when Shouto had gotten older and started to get as fresh with Touya as Touya was with him, he’d always been nice to you, always watched you with those same wide, mismatched eyes.
Yeah. He was most probably an omega.
“Well I’d love to see Rei, and Natsuo and Fuyumi and Shouto,” you said.
Touya stretched in the booth, not minding Keigo and thumping him right across the chest. Keigo squawked in annoyance.
“I’ll tell Rei you’re coming for dinner,” Touya said.
You smiled, pleased. You knew what a huge deal it was for both Touya and Rei to be in the same house again—both in recovery, both sharing the same space again.
When you’d left, Rei had been hospitalized and Touya had already been knee deep in petty crimes and utterly disinterested in any sort of overtures of help. For them to both be together again, getting regular help, with Enji out of the house and a rotating string of their family members checking in on them—you were happy to see them healing.
The buoyant feeling lasted all the way through lunch and too many drinks, until Touya shepherded you out of the restaurant, blazing a familiar path towards his family home. You followed, gratified when you saw that the Todoroki house was just as you remembered it, even the rebuilt pieces nostalgic.
Its grandness had been a shock to you as a child—not only in comparison to the tiny, squashed little two bed you’d grown up in—but that Touya had grown up there, in so vast and elegant a space. Touya who you dug in the dirt with. Touya who picked bugs out of the mud and put them on you. Touya who turned his nose up at dolls and ate things right out of your lunch box without asking, like he was a starving child without any access to food.
The house said otherwise.
Touya treated the Todoroki mansion with the same pointed lack of care he had as a teenager, kicking in the door as he led you inside, throwing his things in a pile in the entry. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, fondly nostalgic over his shithead behavior.
“You missed a spot—I think there’s a bare patch of floor over there,” you said.
Touya gave you a narrow-eyed gaze over his shoulder as he uttered a string of objects you might suck.
You raised your eyebrows at him, smiling and unbothered. He’d always said it was your beta nature that left you unfussed with his various attitudes, taking everything in stride. You didn’t know if that was true—you’d always sort of suspected it was the strange, inherent connection you felt to him, and to the Todoroki family at large that kept you fond of him, even as he descended into teenage fury.
You didn’t know what it was, as you’d not ever felt it with your other friends’ families who you’d spent nearly as much time with. But if it netted you a lifelong friend, you weren’t about to question it.
Rei was in the kitchen like she had been that first day Touya brought you home, an enormous expanse of marble counter and vaulted ceiling that made her look unfathomably small. Her snow white hair had been cropped short into a page boy cut and made her look younger than her years, especially when she glanced up at you with the very same smile she had when you were a child.
“Welcome back, Y/N,” she said. You bowed respectfully, Touya scoffing and grabbing the back of the collar to haul you up.
“She’s not the fucking prime minister,” he grunted.
“And you’re not the boss of me,” you sniped, the drinks you’d both shared at lunch making you a little looser tongued in front of Rei than you’d have liked.
“Shouto will be by in just a few minutes as well, and he’ll be so happy to see you,” Rei said, smiling gently.
“Shouto lives on his own?” you asked, curious. Aside from picturing him as the skinny preteen you’d last seen him as, you also had trouble imagining kind, sweet little Shouto leaving his mother on her own—and with Touya definitely counted as on her own, for all the help he was. Shouto seemed devoted, familial.
“He’s wanted his own space since he presented,” Rei said lightly, clearly unbothered.
It was rare for omegas to peel off from their family units before finding a mate, and the strangeness of striking out on his own struck you even further. Maybe he wanted a nest to bring someone back to, after finding the right person?
You wondered if he was going to be participating in this year’s mating run, and made a mental note to try and find out if he wanted help avoiding any undesirable alphas. If he was an omega, your beta scent would help disguise some of his tracks, you’d just have to follow in his footsteps far enough away from the main track that a ranging alpha wouldn’t accidentally stumble upon it.
That thought was cut short, however, by the sound of the door creaking open in the foyer you’d just come in from. There was the sound of rustling fabric, like someone shedding their coat, and then footsteps padded through the hall. A hint of a scent met your nose, slightly sweet and smoky, with an undercurrent of something fresh—like a campfire burning on a cold, clear day. Your brow furrowed, the frostiness an almost-familiar dimension, like Rei's cold widlflower scent. Who was—?
Then a tall, unfamiliar alpha poked his head through the door, fluffy red and white strands of hair tangling across his forehead. He was an arresting sight—easily the most beautiful person you had ever seen, every single one of his features so perfectly and evenly placed, like he'd been put together deliberately. He looked startlingly like Rei, if Rei were a man, except for the fiery blue of his left eye, the shock of scarlet hair above it.
You stared at this new interloper, confused, until you were seized with a sudden memory of that scar, that same mop of hair bent over a turtle-shaped block puzzle.
No. No fucking way.
Rei smiled, opening her arms, and you gaped after him as Todoroki Shouto prowled across the kitchen to her, enveloping her in a hug. Where Touya was taller than his mother, his baby brother almost dwarfed her, easily clearing six feet, his shoulders broad and his frame packed with dense muscle. He'd always had the same elegant, sweetly beautiful set to his features that his mother and Touya did, but there was something sharper about them now, a slightly more alpha edge to him.
An enormous bicep shifted against the sleeve of his t-shirt as Shouto held Rei, and suddenly it was very clear how Shouto had managed to become a firefighter.
Something pinched your arm, hard, and you whipped around to stare at Touya accusingly. “Ouch!”
He smirked. “Don’t fucking stare like he does.”
You scowled at him, and opened your mouth to say something unsavory, until two mismatched eyes turned on you, pinning you in place.
“Y/N,” Shouto said. His voice was deep as midnight—so much lower than you had remembered—careful and smooth. The sound of it slithered up your spine like a shiver.
“Shouto?” you answered, stepping closer. “You’re Shouto? Are you sure?”
Shouto released his mother, only the tiniest corner of his mouth twitching. And that was confirmation enough. Shouto had always been a little serious, watching you carefully and intently. He was most like his mother that way—withdrawn, a little bit solemn.
“As far as I am aware,” he said. His tone was flat but you heard the tease in it, regardless. And that was so like him too, couching his inner little shit under the most serious tone, under those earnest heterochromatic eyes.
“Wish he wasn’t,” Touya muttered.
“Oh my god, Shouto. You’ve grown up so much,” you said, a strange thrill zinging up your spine as he stepped closer. That scent like campfire on a cold day washed over you, making you a little dizzy.
Shouto’s eyes got a little bit round at the edges, and something pulled at the corner of his mouth again, an expression you didn’t recognize. His tone was soft as he observed, “You are exactly the same as I remember.”
You could tell he meant it kindly, so you chose not to be offended with his obvious tact. You were well aware you were not a fresh-faced high school graduate anymore.
“I’m definitely older than you remember,” you said, resisting the urge to poke him in the chest. Your hand felt magnetized toward it for some reason. “Don’t be surprised if you hear my bones creaking all the way from the preserve during the run.”
Something sudden and strange passed over Shouto’s face, those mismatched eyes narrowing in on you.
“You’re running,” he said, his tone suddenly flat. “This year.”
“Yeah I’m back in town for it,” you said, ignoring Touya’s scoff at your side. “Gotta appease my mother. She doesn’t get that betas aren’t the target crowd for this, nevermind ancient ones. That, and I plan to disappear up a tree if someone so much as sniffs in my direction.”
“Up a tree,” Shouto repeated, sounding contemplative.
You wondered if he was internalizing how weird you were. He probably wouldn’t have remembered you being weird, considering how younger kids never thought to question their older peers. Maybe he’d even thought you cool when you were growing up together—you’d quickly disabuse him of that notion.
You nodded. “I’ve only been followed by alphas twice and both times I lost them up that big willow overlooking the bay, if you take the seaside path out two miles?”
Shouto’s eyes tracked you closely, like he was committing every word to memory. “I know it.”
You smiled. “The sea breeze is just enough to hide a beta’s scent, once you’re out of sight up there. I hope the city life hasn’t gotten me too out of shape to get up the trunk. Though to be frank I’m not too worried about it this year. Are you running?”
“Yes,” Shouto said, so quickly that it looked like he’d startled himself.
Touya’s head whipped around to stare at him, and Rei’s eyelashes fluttered momentarily, a weird stillness overcoming her—until a sort of look of understanding came over her features. You thought you caught a hint of a smile as she ducked her head to return to her dinner preparations.
“Thought you said you weren’t interested,” Touya said, his tone accusing. “You’ve never run before.”
Shouto looked deeply unfussed by his older brother’s sudden consternation. “Perhaps I have changed my mind.”
“The hell you did,” Touya said snottily. “You said you knew you wouldn’t find your life mate there.”
“Perhaps that has changed too,” Shouto said, his tone so dry that you could tell he was purposefully needling Touya. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. Brothers.
Touya’s scoff overlaid the thump of Rei’s knife as she returned to chopping, and you realized how rude it looked for the three of you to be standing there arguing while she was working.
You hurriedly stepped around Touya and Shouto, peering over Rei’s shoulder. For some reason you were hyperaware of Shouto as you passed him, a thought you shoved right back out of your mind as you approached Rei. “Is there anything I can help with? I feel like I have years of free dinners to pay you back for.”
“I am almost done, but thank you, Y/N,” Rei said, as Touya said something in a haughty tone of voice, and Shouto’s low baritone answered. Rei’s mouth quirked softly at this—and you realized it was the same way Shouto smiled, small and private.
“—Not bringing home some weird fucking omega,” Touya was saying when you turned back to the boys. You startled when you realized Shouto had shifted to face you instead of his brother, and his body language looked like he was mostly ignoring him.
You channeled your sudden laugh into a fake cough. Touya eyed you sourly, long used to your tricks.
“Well if you want any help on the run, let me know,” you told Shouto, cutting into their argument with the practice of a beta used to diffusing things, especially between Touya and others. Shouto’s mouth twitched again like he knew what you were doing, and you watched his eyes pick over you speculatively.
You marveled at how far back you had to tilt your head if you wanted to look him directly in the eye now. He was so big, and so unexpectedly handsome—he really had grown up well. Some omega was going to be very, very pleased at the end of this week, provided he really did go after someone.
“If it’s your first you probably won’t know all the best hiding spots,” you told him.
Not that they were really hiding spots, considering most omegas wanted to be found. And there was no one on this earth who wouldn’t want to be found by an alpha who looked like Shouto did now. But he’d probably want to make sure he got to his intended first, before any other alpha found them.
Shouto nodded, leaning forward conspiratorially. “I will take you up on that,” his tone was low, intimate.
You smiled up at him, though something weird twinged in your chest. “Lunch sometime this week then? I’ll walk you through everything.”
Touya made a noise of disgust, and you shushed him. Shouto’s smile pulled into a quarter-moon sliver, sweet and beautiful. “I would like that.”
A strange little thrill zinged down your spine. You very pointedly did not think about it, instead shooting Shouto a thumbs up. And then, seized by a sudden need to get away, you marched forward to grab Touya by his collar, dragging him out into the dining room.
“Do you have to make your mother do everything? Let’s set the table,” you ordered him, shoving him at the cabinets. Touya swore at you, trying to twist his lanky body out of your hands, spitting like a wet cat.
But your mind was already elsewhere, occupied by this strange new turn of events. It really had been a long time away from your hometown, and much more had changed than you realized. You’d missed seeing Touya start to recover his life, you’d missed Rei returning to herself, you’d missed Shouto growing up into a man—and an alpha. You were suddenly overcome by the feeling that you did not want to miss any more, did not want to leave again—though of course that was foolishness.
The run was less than a week away, and you had train tickets back into the city just after.
And you had your mom to provide for, much as she wanted you to settle down with the first rando who got handsy with you in the woods. An alpha would have to bring more than an interest in you to your coupling in order to win you—and that was not going to happen, especially not to a beta, and especially not to you.
You laid the dishes out, resolving yourself. You’d enjoy this week, but never lose sight of the fact that you’d still have to leave at the end of it.
After all, it wasn’t like some miraculous twist of fate was lurking just around the corner of the Todoroki kitchen, ready to change your life.
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Can you make a Latina reader x Matt sturniolo smut? You can make it up how you want it
Lipstick- M. Sturniolo
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pairing: Thick!Latina!reader x Boyfriend!Matt
classification: fluff, smut
inspiration: request^^
translations: embedded within the story!
warnings: 18+, MDNI, literal sex, use of Spanish, Hispanic/ Latino culture mentioned, established relationship, slight cursing, traditional parents, mentions of alcohol, didn’t name any of the side characters, long
summary: Matt’s nervous to meet your family, but after making a good impression you treat him to a night full of kisses and lipstick stains.
Matt sits in the living room, nervous hands playing with the keys that hang from his belt loop. Your mother keeps him company, sitting on the sofa across from him as she asks him a plethora of personal and uncomfortable questions. Latina mothers are unashamed to prod into the personal life of others, especially when meeting their daughter’s boyfriend for the first time.
You’ve only been dating Matt for a couple of months, and although he seems like a nice kid, she’s not entirely sure she can trust your judgment just yet. The few boys you’ve brought home before haven’t always necessarily met her high standards. Matt hasn’t done anything to throw her off yet, but she’s sure she’ll find something to dislike. If he manages to stick around long enough, though, he’d surely grow on her.
“So what do you do for work?” your mom asks, momentarily looking up from her latest costura project to catch Matt’s anxious gaze. She expertly weaves the string in and out of the white lace, forming an intricate floral design in the process.
[translation: costura- sewing]
“Oh um… my brothers and I we make YouTube videos,” Matt doesn’t know where to look, he’s afraid to make eye contact but also afraid that if he doesn’t it’ll come off as disrespectful. He’s never been so nervous in his life, and from the look on your mother’s face he can tell that that’s probably not what she wanted to hear.
Your mother scoffs, obviously unimpressed with his answer. “Esta niña, siempre saliendo con los más huevones,” she turns her head towards the stairs. Matt’s been waiting for you to descend for over 30 minutes, and the awkward tension was even becoming too much for her.
[translation: “This girl, always going out with the laziest ones.”]
Matt coughs, taking a quick swig of the water bottle in front of him. He’s nervous, his hands are clammy and he has no idea what your mom just said. What was taking you so long?
“So is YouTube gonna pay the bills?” your mom was abrasive and she knew it, but she couldn’t help it. In her eyes, nobody was worthy enough of her babygirl. Matt remains silent, he doesn’t even know what to say, so she continues, “You know, when you two start having kids.”
The thought of having children at 20 years old terrifies Matt beyond belief, he can feel his hands getting clammier by the second. He understands that it’s a cultural dissonance, though, so he keeps his mouth shut. “We’re not planning on any kids soon, ma’am. We haven’t— Um, we haven’t really talked about it,” his voice trembles slightly, your mom was doing a good job of intimidating him.
Matt takes another swig of his water, his mouth was dry and he felt like his throat was closing up. “Oh, but you’re having sex with my daughter right?” the question is so unapologetically bold that it causes Matt to choke on the liquid, some of it managing to dribble down his chin.
“I’m sorry?” he chokes out, but he heard your mom loud and clear.
Finally, as if on queue, Matt hears footsteps coming down the steps. ‘Finally!’ he thinks, watching as your curvy figure rounds the staircase and enters the living room. Matt shoots up from his spot on the couch, his eyes immediately dancing over your entire body.
You’re wearing a fitted, black bodycon dress that reaches just above your knees. The spaghetti straps work to hold your bust in place, a gold necklace dangling delicately above the curves of your breasts. You push your freshly curled hair onto your shoulders, luscious locks framing your face perfectly. White lace-up sneakers adorn your feet, your ankle bracelet glimmering as you walk into the living room.
Matt can’t keep his eyes off of, every aspect of your being pulling him in and putting him in a trance. Your mom notices Matt’s inability to hide his attraction for you, “her eyes are up here!” His face goes beet red, eyes immediately darting up to your face.
You roll your eyes before sending Matt an apologetic smile, “Ya nos vamos, Ma.”
[translation: “We’re leaving, Ma.”]
“Bueno, mi niña. Pórtate bien,” she warns, bringing you in for a strong, warm embrace. Your mom’s change in behavior is so quick it gives Matt whiplash, but he can’t blame her for being standoffish with him. He understands that it’s her mother bear nature.
[translation: “Okay, babygirl. Be good.”]
You kiss your mom on the cheek, your red lipstick staining her face. You turn to Matt with a big, toothy smile sprawled onto your face. “You ready?” you ask, taking his hand in yours as you guide him outside. He nods and hums in response, squeezing your hand as he trails behind you in a lovesick daze. Your ass jiggles with each step and Matt wonders how he ever got so lucky.
“Sorry for taking so long,” you apologize once you’re in the car, getting situated in the passenger seat. “No problem. You look really beautiful,” he replies, starting the car and doing another once over on your body. You lean over the center console with puckered lips, “kiss?” He happily obliges, your red lipstick instantly transferring onto him. His pants are becoming tighter by the second and you notice it right away. Your relationship is still in its infancy, so even this has you blushing.
“Was my mom nice?”
“Mm yeah, some like that,” he replies with a chuckle, adjusting his pants and beginning the drive to your destination. You know he’s lying, but you’re grateful that he’s courteous enough to put up with your mom’s attitude.
“Just wait till you meet my dad and my siblings. They’re not as bad,” you say, the hum of the car engine and the low music in the background creating a calm atmosphere.
“Can’t wait,” he laughs, and although he’s nervous for when that day finally comes, he’s actually excited to become a constant presence in your life. It might be too early to say it, but he’s definitely falling in love with you, the tent in his pants making it obvious as ever.
A year has passed since that day and, as expected, your mom has warmed up to Matt. They aren’t super close yet, but she definitely sees him in a different light. She can tell that he truly cares for you and that what you two share is real, but the real test comes when Matt meets your dad.
Your dad works a lot, the manual labor taking a toll on his body that puts him to sleep as soon as he gets home. So, even if your dad is home when Matt’s around, he’s usually asleep or resting in his room.
Matt was nervous when he met your mom, but he’s TERRIFIED to meet your dad. There are so many factors to take into consideration; the language barrier, the cultural dissonance, the fact that he’s your literal dad! It doesn’t help that your siblings are gonna be there too, all of it makes Matt tremble with unease. But he’s been invited to your family’s cookout so he can no longer postpone it.
It’s a sunny Saturday afternoon. The weather is nice, it’s not too cold or too hot. It’s the perfect day for a cookout, and Matt should feel excited, but he doesn’t. Sweaty hands grip the steering wheel as he anxiously drives to your house. Chris and Nick are being dragged along as moral support, but unlike Matt, they’re not nervous.
“Maybe I shouldn’t have brought you guys. I don’t even think they know I’m a triplet,” Matt’s words are coming out a mile a minute as he places the car in park outside your house. The panic is starting to set, and from the looks of it they’re the first ones here. Usually being on time would make Matt proud, but this just means there will be less people to hide behind.
“Dude, it’s gonna be fine. Plus, maybe Y/n has a cute cousin or something and we can be like brother in laws,” Chris is only half-joking. “Gross,” Nick grimaces, hopping off the car and beginning the short walk to your front door. Chris laughs, copying Nick’s actions and following closely behind.
That just leaves Matt. He’s glued to the front seat, mind racing uncontrollably. If he’s going to do this, it needs to be quick and painless or he’ll just psych himself out. He takes one deep breath in and out, unbuckling himself with such fervor that the seatbelt slaps the door. Once he steps out of the car, he takes a second to anchor himself before jogging to catch up to his brothers, who are already ringing your doorbell.
Three minutes pass and no one has opened the door, so Nick rings the doorbell again. “Allí voy, allí voy!” a voice shouts from inside, the door swinging open aggressively to reveal your little sister.
[translation: “I’m going, I’m going!”]
“Oh it’s just you,” she deadpans, moving aside so they can walk in. She slams the door shut, pushing past the stunned trio until she’s at the foot of the stairs. “Y/n’s upstairs,” she says, waving towards the staircase haphazardly.
“Y/N! YOUR BOYFRIENDS ARE HERE!” she shouts up the stairs, the loud outburst taking the triplets by surprise.
Your sister is a good 4 years younger and the complete opposite of you. She’s a thin tomboy, wearing an outfit so oversized that she’s drowning in fabric. Her style directly resembles Chris’s, chunky sneakers adorning her feet and a backwards hat resting atop her long, curly hair. A long gold chain that she stole from your older brother hangs from her neck, swaying back and forth as she shifts her weight from one foot to the other. Her makeup is nicely done and her glossy lips are resting in a smirk, she loved embarrassing you.
“Stop yelling, pendeja!” you shout back, head peering from your doorway. Your sister shoots you an unbothered shrug, turning on her heels and disappearing into the backyard. You descend the stairs, immediately hugging Matt and planting a fat kiss on his lips. Within seconds his lips are the same color as yours, your cherry lipgloss tasting all too familiar.
[translation: pendeja- dumbass (feminine)]
“You guys are early,” you chuckle, pulling away from Matt to greet the other two. “You can blame Matt for that,” Nick says, the four of you walking outside to the backyard patio. The setup is simple but nice, rows of foldable chairs and tables lining the grassy lawn. Coolers are up against the walls of the house, each one filled to the brim with soda, juice pouches, and alcohol.
As Matt is surveying the area, he sees your dad, or at least he thinks he does. A tall, muscular man is working the grill. His shiny, bald head reflects the sun and his tattoos are on full display past the sleeves of his ribbed cotton tank top.
Matt grabs your hand, pulling you back slightly, “Is that your dad?” His voice is hushed, afraid to be heard accidentally.
You follow his gaze, “What? No. That’s my brother.”
An audible sigh of relief escapes Matt, and you instantly clock it, “Don’t worry, babe. Everyone’s gonna love you.” The reassuring words momentarily calm his nerves.
Your older brother’s boisterous voice breaks the moment, “Y/n, go get the rest of the carne from the kitchen!” He’s pinching carne asada, elote, and cebolla off of the grill with long metal tongs, stacking it neatly on a metal tray.
[translation: carne- meat, carne asada- grilled meat, elote- corn, cebolla- onion]
Chris is the first to approach your brother, his friendly nature making it easy for him to talk to new people,“Dude, that smells good!”
Your brother is very kind, his scary appearance completely juxtaposing his hospitable personality. He’s wearing baggy jean shorts and black air forces with a matching gold chain and bracelet. The black sunglasses that rest on his face make him look unapproachable, but the warm smile he offers Nick and Chris makes up for it.
“I’ll be right back, okay?” you quickly peck Matt’s cheek, once again staining his face with your lipstick. Matt hums in response, joining the rest of the men around the grill.
“I feel like I’m seeing triple. I didn’t even know there was three of y’all,” your brother jokes, offering them each a firm handshake. Even though they’ve heard the joke millions of times before the triplets laugh.
“Yeah, we get that a lot,” Nick laughs.
“Bet you do. Which of you is dating my sister, though?” your brother asks, but he knows the answer; the red kiss on Matt’s cheek is a dead giveaway.
“That would be this lucky guy,” Nick replies, shaking Matt’s shoulders playfully. Matt’s cheeks burn a bright red and he can’t stop himself from smiling, he truly was lucky. “If the red lipstick on his face doesn’t tell you, then his smile surely will,” Chris chimes in, his finger smudging the makeup on Matt’s face.
Your brother laughs, “Yeah you might wanna wipe that off before el jefe gets back.”
[translation: el jefe- the boss (masculine, a nickname commonly used when referencing one’s father)]
“Oh shit,” Matt mutters, scrambling for a nearby napkin and rubbing it along his face feverishly.
An hour has passed and no one else has arrived yet, I guess the triplets didn’t get the memo that Hispanics are almost always fashionably late. Your brother is still working the grill, immersed in an entertaining conversation with Nick about God knows what. Chris, on the other hand, is playing soccer with your sister. He keeps either kicking the ball over the fence or missing it completely, his clumsy actions make your sister laugh uncontrollably.
You sit with Matt at one of the many tables, hands intertwined as you both anxiously await your parents arrival. “He should be back by now,” you mumble, a restless leg bouncing up and down. You knew Matt would make a good first impression on your dad, but you were still nervous.
It’s almost like you summoned him, the familiar sound of your dad’s pickup truck ringing in your ears as he pulls into the driveway. “Is that him?” Matt asks, grip tightening on your palms. “Yeah that’s him. Don’t be nervous, my dad is nice,” you reply, but you’re equally as anxious.
Your dad’s first words do nothing to help your case, you’re just glad Matt can’t understand them, “Vengan a ayudar, huevones!”
[translation: “Come help, lazies!”]
“Lemme go help, you stay here. Okay?”
“No, I’m coming with you.”
“Actually yeah, good idea.”
Matt follows you to the front yard, he’s so beyond nervous that his hands are practically dripping with sweat. Your dad senses Matt’s presence immediately, “Y este pinche güey que?”
[translation: “Who’s this fucking guy?”]
“Pa! No seas feo!” you exclaim, but your dad just rolls his eyes and silently instructs you to unload the truck. He bought more alcohol for the party, because when you’re Hispanic you can never have enough.
[translation: “Pa! Don’t be ugly!”]
“Es tu novio o que?” your dad asks, grunting as he picks up two cases of beer. He rests them on his shoulders with ease, he’s so strong that it intimidates Matt. “Yes, dad. He’s my boyfriend,” you reply, playfully rolling your eyes.
[translation: “Is he your boyfriend or what?”]
Your dad, much like your brother, is also bald. The greatest differences between the two men are the wrinkles that crease near your dad’s eyes when he smiles, his long bushy beard, and his protruding beer belly. “Nice to meet you,” your dad finally directs his attention towards Matt, offering him a genuine smile as his thick accent butchers the words.
“Nice to meet you too, sir,” Matt replies, picking up a case of alcohol as to make himself useful. Your dad can tell that Matt’s nervous, and even though he doesn’t like the idea of you dating, he decides to take it easy on him. He’s heard stories about Matt from your mom and by the way you look at him, your dad knows he’s the one.
As your dad enters the backyard, absolutely shocked to see Chris and Nick. Never in his life has he met a twin, let alone triplets, “Ay güey! Hay tres? No chingues, creo que me mareé.” Everyone, except for the triplets who have no idea what’s going on, laughs at your dad’s statement.
[translation: “Oh shit! There’s three? Fuck, I think I just got dizzy.”]
“I think he likes you,” you shrug, a sly smile playing on your face. Matt suddenly feels confident, all the nerves washing away.
As the hours pass, the party becomes less innocent as everyone becomes more and more inebriated. Matt’s chatting with some of your uncles and cousins, a cold beer resting in his hands. He’s been nursing the same bottle all night, only sipping from it occasionally.
You’re on the opposite end of the lawn, sitting at a table with your chismosa cousin. “Your man is so handsome, prima. If you find another one like that, send him my way.”
[translation: chismosa- gossiper (feminine), prima- cousin (feminine)]
“He does have a brother,” you joke, eyes still trained on Matt. You needed to get him alone in the house, away from prying eyes.
You could think of so many actual reasons you needed him right now, though. First, he was being such a gentleman with your family. He introduced himself and made small talk despite the evident language barrier. Secondly, when you served him a plate, he finished it faster than you’ve ever seen him eat anything. Then, when he got up for seconds, he moaned as the delicious flavors melted in his mouth.
Everyone loved him, and for whatever reason that turned you on. The longer you looked at him, the wetter you became. You’re clenching your thighs together, the sheer thought of him making you squirm. Before you know it, you’re excusing yourself from your cousin and walking up to Matt with a random excuse as to why you need him inside.
“Hey is everything okay?” Matt whispers, hands resting on your hips. His head is crooked down towards you, lips capturing yours briefly before resting his forehead against yours. “Yeah, just missed you,” your breathy words fan his lips as you place a chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth and travel them down his neck.
Although he welcomes the feeling, you’re both standing in the kitchen and if anyone were to walk in they’d catch the intimate moment. That’s the last thing he wanted, especially not after making a good first impression, “not here, baby.”
You pout, completely retracting yourself from Matt, “okay.”
“No, wait. I said not here,” he pulls you back in as he looks around the house in search of another secluded area, not wanting to completely abandon your touch.
“Then where?” your voice is sultry and inviting.
“Outside?” it’s the first thing that comes to Matt’s mind, and the suggestion breaks you from the mood.
“Outside, Matt? Really? Like what, like a dog?” you have a dumbfounded look on your face, almost like you can’t believe he even suggested it.
“No, like, in my car,” he dangles the keys in front of your face before pulling you back in for a heated kiss.
The kiss seems to convince you because he’s successfully leading you to his car. The street is dark, only illuminated by a few street lamps, but you find it with ease.
You fumble into the backseat, Matt following behind you giddily. “We have to be quick, okay?” you whisper, pulling Matt in for another kiss by the collar.
“You know I like taking my time with my girl,” you can hear the smirk in his voice, a playful scoff falling from your lips. You scoot further into the back seat, making room for Matt as he situates himself between your legs.
“Did I tell you how beautiful you look today?” he brushes a stray curl away from your face, a gentle hand caressing your cheek. “Hmm yes, but I could hear it again,” you turn your face, kissing his palm.
“You look beautiful today,” he murmurs, leaning in for a kiss. You mould into each other, your lips fitting perfectly against his. Matt grinds himself down on you, momentarily breaking from you long enough for you to feather kisses along his neck.
With each kiss comes an affirmation, “I’m. So. Proud. Of. You.” It’s too dark to see, but you’re leaving lipstick marks all over him. The praises send blood rushing to his dick as you continue, “You did so good, papi. Just like I knew you would.”
[translation: papi- daddy (bear with me ppl)]
“Yeah? How good?” he eggs you on, relishing in all your sweet words. His hands push your dress up, the fabric scrunching up around your hips to reveal the red lace panties you wore underneath. Matt swears he’s in heaven.
“You did perfect…” your words trail off as you watch Matt remove your underwear in a daze. “How about you show me how good I did?” he grabs your waist, flipping you both over so you’re on top. You let out an excited squeal, your bare cunt coming in contact with his rough denim jeans. His dick is straining against the fabric, begging for release.
You grind onto his clothed penis, one hand resting on his chest as the other pushes your hair out of your face. Matt’s hands instinctively find your hips, a firm grip guiding your swiveling motions.
“Tell me how you want me, baby.”
“Ride me?”
As soon as he says it, you’re wiggling down onto his thighs and unbuckling his pants. Your fingers dance along his erection, teasingly tracing it. Matt bites his lip at the sight, “Please don’t tease.”
“So polite,” you giggle, finally tugging his pants down. His dick slaps against his stomach, the swollen tip already dripping with precum. Your thumb runs across the tip, spreading the lubrication along his shaft.
Matt’s a whimpering mess, propped onto his elbows to get a better view of you. When his hips subconsciously buck into your hand you decide to stop teasing and situate yourself above his crotch, dragging his penis along your wet folds before positioning it right at your entrance.
You’re going so slow, too slow, so Matt decides to take matters into his own hands. He grabs handfuls of your ass, pushing you down onto his dick with force. “Matt!” you gasp, the delicious stretch sending you into overdrive.
He doesn’t respond, instead he pushes and pulls your hips so that you’re bouncing on his cock. Your breasts are jiggling rhythmically, threatening to spill out of your dress. Animalistic grunts fill the car as Matt watches your pussy wrap around him, his jaw is slack and his eyebrows are furrowed in pleasure. Your soft whimpers and moans motivate him to keep going.
“You like that?” The car is rocking with the intensity of your movements, windows becoming foggier and foggier with each breathy moan that escapes your lips.
“Yes!” your voice is high pitched and squeaky, the pleasure choking you up. “Use your words, pretty girl,” he grunts, feeling the familiar wave of pleasure approaching.
“It’s so good, papi. So, so, so good,” you babble, struggling to formulate coherent sentences. Your pussy is fluttering around him, the sensation bringing Matt closer to his breaking point.
“Fuck! I’m gonna cum,” he whimpers, large hands squeezing the skin around your hips so hard that it was sure to bruise. You place loving kisses all over his face, especially on his cheeks and the corners of his mouth.
“I love you,” you moan, chanting his name again and again right after. He’s thrusting up into you feverishly, his pace faltering slightly as you both near your climax. “I love you too, princess. So much,” his voice is strained, strong arms wrapping around your waist and holding you in place as he shoots his warm load into you. His affirmations send you into a state of euphoria as your orgasm washes over you.
He’s peppering kissing all over your chest, whimpers escaping his lips as he comes down from his high. You delicately push his hair off of his sweaty forehead, admiring him as he continues his gentle attack on your chest.
“We should probably get back, babe. They’ll be wondering where we are,” you whisper, but he doesn’t want to let go. He wants to stay like this with you forever.
“Let me enjoy this a little longer,” he murmurs, hooded eyes finally looking up at you. Your lipstick is smudged all over your mouth. “Aww baby, your lipstick is all messed up. You look so cute,” he laughs, attempting to wipe some it off but failing.
He shifts slightly, the streetlights briefly managing to illuminate his handsome face. Your kiss marks are all over, a clear visual representation of how much you love him.
“You’re wearing more of it than I am,” you joke, earning yourself a playful slap on the ass.
MASTERLIST
A/n: clearly I couldn’t just write a smut right? Lmaoooo idk I had all the characters in my brain & it couldn’t just be smut 😭 hope u enjoy
This is so different from anything I’ve written before so lmk how yall like it & if you enjoy having Spanish in stories w/ the translations in the story💃🏻 also don’t kill me for using papi, i’d gladly call my man papi any day 😋
-L.A.M.B👼🏻💗
taglist: @nicksmainbitch @sturniololovers @mayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @gnxosblog @meg-sturniolo @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattnchrisworld @sanyi5 @lustfulslxt @whicked-hazlatwhore @tworosesblackthorn @mxqdii @fawned01 @junnniiieee07 @sturniolololover @missriddle03
note: if you want to be tagged in my fanfic related posts, you can access my TAGLIST and comment 💐
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thelov3lybookworm · 4 months
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Hiii!!!
I know that you have a lot of other fics to write but I couldn’t get this idea out of my head
So imagine the reader and Azriel have a daughter and she’s 3 and she has a crush on a boy in her daycare’s class, and when she got home with the reader, Azriel heard her talking about him to the reader, so the next day Azriel decides to pick her up from daycare and when he sees the boy, he’s just glaring at him
I don’t really know if this makes sense but overprotective Az is so🤭…
THANK YOUUU💗💗💗
Overprotective Bat
Summary: No one is allowed to talk to Azriel's Princess.
•○●⛦●○•
A/n: Anon, i love you soo much for sending this in. I loved writing it, i literally giggled when you sent this in lol
Enjoy!
•○🌑○•
"And then what happened?"
Azriel's shadows became alert, rushing to crowd against the windows to watch as their favourite two people walked upto the door. Azriel smiled, putting away the report he was revising before he had to send it to Rhysand, getting ready to be bombarded with all the details from his daughter's- Hazel's- day at the daycare.
"Kaden asked me to play with him." The smile that appeared on Azriel's face when he heard his little princess's voice faded when he realised what she had said, and he stiffened, his hand hovering above his desk. He turned his head just slightly, wondering who this he was.
"And did you play with him?" The jangling of the keys sounded as Y/n opened the door, and their voices were louder when they next spoke.
"Yes mommy! We played hide and seek first, and the he pushed me while I sat on the swing."
Y/n hummed as Azriel began descending the stairs faster than his wings could have carried him.
"So you like him?"
Y/n's tone was teasing, and Azriel could hear Hazel giggling, but he did not like this conversation one bit, and he felt the need to stop it from progressing.
So he walked out, a huge smile on his face that was at odds with the way he was feeling.
"Daddy!" Hazel's eyes lit up, and her smile widened as she ran towards him, her arms splayed wide. Some of the tension in the spymaster's shoulders lessened, and he picked her up, clutching her wiggling body to his chest. He tried to kiss her cheek, which only ended up in her giggling loudly while trying to push him away because she thought he was trying to tickle her.
Y/n met Azriel's eyes and smiled wide, walking over to peck his cheek.
"I'm going to go and get changed, don't do something to get in trouble."
He huffed indignantly, meeting his daughter's eyes. "As if I do anything to get in trouble."
She giggled, clinging to him. he swayed a little, pressing a kiss to her forehead before he set her down. "Come, let's get you changed too."
Hazel nodded, reaching up to wrap her fingers around his finger. Her small fingers wrapping around his big, scarred hands always had an overwhelming amount of pride and joy coursing through him.
"So, what happened in your daycare today?"
And so began the onslaught of details from his little princess's day.
•○🌑○•
Azriel did not like going to pick his daughter up from her daycare, but only because he did not want to scare the other people who had come to pick their kids up.
But now his motive was exactly that as he stood right next to the gates, his wings tucked tightly to his back so no one could touch them.
And he would say he was succeeding in his mission. It was like there was an invisible wall surrounding him, and everyone tried to stay away from him. He just hoped the boy's parent was also in the crowd, so when they found out exactly who Hazel's father was, they would tell him to stay away from her.
Proud of himself and very nearly patting himself on the back, he waited for his little girl.
The door to the daycare opened, and all the children spilled out, running, giggling and screaming, across the playground towards their parents.
Azriel spied a head of hair the same as his, two small braids adoring her little head, and grinned slightly.
Though his grin vanished when he found her holding the hand of a boy, smiling and walking up to the gates.
The moment her eyes landed on him, she gasped, tugging on the boys hand while pointing, and Azriel could read her lips as she yelled, that's my daddy!
She let go of the boy's hand and ran- waddled, really- up to her father, who could not contain his smile.
He leaned down, his arms reaching out to grab her the moment she was close enough. She squealed as he hauled her up against himself, peppering kisses on every inch of her chubby little face.
"Did my princess miss daddy today?"
"Yes daddy!" Then, as if she just remembered, she turned her head and beckoned to the boy she had been holding hands with. The boy's eyes were wide as he stared at Azroel's huge form, his massive wings, his shadows. Azriel flared his wings a little just for the sake of it.
If possible, the boy's eyes went wider, and his steps faltered, meeting Azriel's eyes.
And Azriel knew that he was being an asshole, but he glared at the boy with no restraint.
The boy's eyes filled with tears, and he turned away, sprinting back towards the daycare, his hands held to his eyes to staunch the tears.
Azriel instantly felt guilty, and when his daughter turned to him with furrowed brows, he wanted to run to the boy and apologise. But before he could do anything, a voice spoke up.
"I am glad you feel guilty."
Azriel froze, glancing back at his mate sheepishly.
She shook her head, taking Hazel from Azriel, kissing her cheeks before setting her down. "I knew you had ulterior motives when you asked me if you could pick Hazel up today. You need to stop being such an overprotective bat."
Azriel kissed Y/n's forehead in hopes that she would let him off easy, but she glared at him when he pulled away.
"Mommy? Is Kaden angry with me?"
"No darling, he maybe just got scared. You can talk to him tomorrow and let him know there is nothing to be scared of."
Azriel couldn't stop the scoff that escaped him, and Y/n turned to stare him down.
"Sorry." He mumbled lowly before grabbing Hazel's hand. "Do you want to have some ice cream before we go home?"
Y/n opened her mouth to protest, but Hazel and her father were already running away.
•○🌑○•
General Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686 @cassie6392
Azriel Taglist: @darthdumbasss @foreverrandomwritings @kennedy-brooke @hnyclover @minnieoo @sidrapotter
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chelsea-xxx2003 · 1 month
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Hobie HC's
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Is of Jamaican descendant. His grandparents moved to England from Jamaica because of the job opportunities.
Has 5 older sisters and he's the youngest. (Knows how to treat women)
Is his dads favourite child.
Knows how to cook Jamaican dishes and does it passionately.
He loves jerk chicken. (Who doesn't?)
Has a big family. Uncles and aunties and a whole bunch of cousins ranging from 30s to babies.
Very family orientated before he was bitten.
Is distant to them now so they won't be in danger. Only close to his immediate family but only see them a few times.
His extended family think he's a rebel and a disappointment but they don't know him like his family do.
Excelled at school even though he thinks the school system is fraud.
Got his first piercing when he was 14. Asked his 5th born sister to go with him.
Had a hard time hiding the fact he is Spiderman until he found a place of his own. Small cheap apartment.
Hates politicians.
If some of them were campaigning to be Prime Minister he would would play his guitar on multiple speakers on high volume to disturb.
Has a good amount of money from when he modelled. Designers were begging him to model their latest outfits because they loved his look. Tall and slim. Immediately quit after big brands were after him. Did not want that kind of attention.
Prefers to do small shows with his band.
Was given so many numbers on pieces of paper from girls backstage.
Does not call any of them.
When he met Miles, got the need to protect him like an older brother. Was a nice change for him.
Has been suspicious of Miguel but doesn't show it. Waited till something happened aka Miles.
Can sip Wray and Nephews and not feel a thing. He has a limit tho.
Has a folder of drawings from kids that draw him.
Is an uncle to a nephew and two nieces. Sends them gifts 'from uncle Hobs'.
Check out the Miles 1610 HC’s right here
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lovifie · 1 month
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Simon was in complete awe of your captivating persona from the very beginning. He always imagined you as a serene, well-read, and graceful princess. Your persona was so angelic that he believed you descended from the heavens. He assumed you were born with a silver spoon in your mouth, surrounded by opulence and luxury. But all of his preconceptions changed when he met your parents at a family dinner. To his surprise, your dad was a retired veteran colonel, and your mom was a retired military pilot. They were acting cruelly…hell even the children at the dinner…The realization hit him like a bolt of lightning, that you and your siblings were raised to be soldiers, and your training began from childhood….
This is the second time I write it because the only time I chose to write directly on Tumblr.com it bugged and deleted it (I wanna rip my eyes off) Hope that you like it 🩷
It was a dinner arranged by your parents, the whole team was invited. You thought about not saying anything, keep to yourself and tell your parents the team said no. But they would read right through you, and the moment you mentioned the team was sold.
Now, Simon used to think that you came for an extremely wealthy family. That you joined the military in an act of rebellion, that you could have easily chosen an easier job because you wouldn't have to worry about money in your life. You always move so gracefully while fighting, always so serene when talking, he had yet to see you cry or get mad. Almost like a porcelain door.
What he didn't know was that it was simply a mask that had been forced upon you by your parents. And it was during the dinner that he started to see the little cracks.
He finally saw you be tense, every thread of your person pulled to their limit ready to snap. He understood why you always seemed so relaxed under Price's orders. In comparison to your parents, the man was a loving mother. At some point they even expressed their doubts even of the captain's abilities. He didn't even want to think about how much self doubt they have helped you form.
It slowly started to make sense, how he would never see you in the mess hall. Always working, always training, always practicing, always studying, always getting better.
He looked at your siblings, younger, worse at hiding their emotions. He could see their tiredness, their fear of your parents. You have seated yourself between your father and your siblings. Trusting more to seat them next to Ghost than your own parents.
Your youngest sibling was sitting next to him, and when he noticed them looking up to them he looked back. The kid didn't even look away, and Ghost winked at them making the slightest smile appear on his tiny face.
“We are eating.” Your mother chastised, your sibling face terrified as he went back to eating. It didn't escape him the way you jump, not the slight disgusted expression it put onto your father when you did.
He standed up, motioning you to follow him outside. You panic for a second, forgetting that you no longer lived in your parents house and didn't need to be afraid. You slipped through your father's hand, walking behind the lieutenant when he went outside to have a smoke. You sat on the floor, sighing and with tears pricking your eyes from the frustration.
Ghost asked you about it, and you finally let go of it all. You told him about how your parents believe that dying at war is the most noble way out, how the only job valid for them was in the military, how you have never seen them cry, how you were sure that they would never cry if you died, everything.
By the end of it, you were hugging his leg, your head resting on his thigh as he rubbed your head with his hand consoling you.
“Wait here.” He threw the cigarette to the floor, stepping on it and went back inside.
A moment later the four men were out again.
“C’mon, kid.” Price said with a smile on his face. “There's an emergency, let's go.”
Just when you were standing up, drying your tears the door opened.
Your siblings walked out, giggling each with a backpack. “We heard the world needs saving, shall we go?”
And then, with your team and your siblings, you went into the most rundown, almost destroyed pub. Ate the most greasy food that you were certain would give everyone food poisoning and went on to have the best family dinner of your whole life.
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marycorcaroli · 8 months
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sub!luffy x fem!reader
dom!fem!reader with sub!luffy? hmmm..
req ♡ : sub!luffy getting fucked silly by another captain of a rival crew who's also trying to find the one piece, and luffy being all needy and stupid.
mary ♡ : thanks for the request and sorry if it was too long ! 💌 i hope you enjoy everything, i tried really hard ! love luffy too much <3
english is not my first language, i apologize for my mistakes ♡
rules ; masterlist
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your hips keep pounding against luffy's thighs, ignoring his pleas to stop, because he can't cum anymore, but can he? his cock is throbbing inside you, and legs are trying to pound into you themselves to fill you all over.
"y/n, please make me feel good, only you can do that, ah-h" luffy tried to say something intelligible, but nothing came out, it felt too good that his brain refused to think. he didn't remember how many times he had cum, three, four or five? you clouded his mind, he could only think about you and your soft cunnie that was so right for his big cock.
you picked up your pace with each passing second, realizing that you were close to orgasm, but it wasn't your plan to show that to luffy, you just needed a map and some information about the one piece, but instead you were bouncing on some strange boy whose cock surprised you as much as he did.
"your body was made for me, wasn't it sweetie? i know just what to do to make you cum like you've never cum before, hehe." your lips descended on luffy's nipples, leaving wet kisses on them and lifting up to his chin "just tell me anything i want to hear and i'll even let you cum inside me, isn't that a gift, darling?"
when you stopped you felt luffy's hands grasp you sharply and his eyes became glassy, he started to cry and tried to make you resume your pace, but you continued to sit and wait for the answer to your question, running your finger over the places where you had left your marks for everyone else, with your claw you left the name of your team, that's how everyone would know whose slut luffy really was.
yours.
he was your whore from the first moment you met him, at the bar, the night you sought out zoro and offered to join you, but he was a son of a bitch and left you to your own devices until a strange guy came along and tried to hit on you.
"you want zoro? join my team and he'll be with you all the time." his cocky grin threw you off balance, but it was time for luffy to get scared as your hand grabbed his cock through his clothes and began to massage it gradually.
"yes, i want zoro, but now i want to destroy you even more." your hot breath on luffy's neck gave him goosebumps, he was lost in space and didn't realize what was going on, but he knew one thing for sure, he wanted you to fuck him in the dirtiest way possible.
as you replayed the memories in your head, you didn't hear the pleading along with luffy's whimpering, he was like a little kid, but wanting your cunnie very badly.
"y/n? p-p..lease i'm.. begging you, s-start moving and i'll tell you everything you want, i'll let you get to the one piece, j-just, fuck it all out of me." his eyes were like puppy dog eyes, it was impossible to refuse them, but you didn't want to, did you? after all, when else would you have just an obedient boy who would do anything for your pussy.
your gentle palm touched his cheek and slowly traced down the whole side of his face, and your eyes stayed on luffy's eyes, you wanted to see how pathetic he'd become in just one night and you were the reason why.
with a quick motion you planted luffy and slowly began to move in time to his hips.
"you look great when you're begging for something, all sweaty and red eyed, i'm going to make you feel good baby, but after this you're not likely to be able to walk or think properly." throwing him back on the pillows and squeezing his fingers tightly, your pace began to quicken again, and luffy's moans grew louder and louder.
it was a delight to your ears, knowing that he was only like that for you, only you see him that way, but or not really....
you didn't notice zoro with his red cock in his hand, he was watching you and jerking off, but he also wants to feel himself inside you or luffy, he hadn't decided yet, but he knew that you and him could destroy luffy with your dirty words and endless orgasms.
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radiance1 · 9 months
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The Ghost King and The Lord of Madness know each other.
After enslaving multiple of worlds they were bound to meet. Their relation is... complicated. They were very fierce enemies when they first met, then it turned into a begrudging respect for one another which then turned them into tentative allies at some point.
Then that somehow transformed into love, and they got to gather after multiple eons. Only to then break up a couple eons later, which then made them enemies for a few more eons before they turned into some form of weird friendship and comradery.
Which then made them on and off exes.
Trigon was a bit sad when his friend/ex/lover/husband/ally/enemy just disappeared from his radar, but hey there's this one woman who looks pretty fine over there trying to kill him.
So, after Pariah Dark got released from the coffin and sees a child trying to fight him for his throne, well, he very instantly adopts him after he got back in the coffin and the kid nearly won if he didn't collapse a second away from victory viz placing him back to sleep.
When Pariah and Trigon meet again, they instantly try to kill each other because that's basically their way of saying hello. Not that they did kill each other, mind you, but it's mostly just a habit at this point.
Then they both found out they had kids and, well, it kinda just escalated from there. Pariah mocked him for being defeated by his own kid(with help) multiple times, which makes him a hypocrite since he also almost defeated by his kid too, which Trigon pointed out. The Ghost King shrugged it off however, and asked if his kid was truly strong and to which Trigon gave a thumbs up too.
Then Trigon asked if his own kid was strong and Pariah nodded.
Which then ended up with both of them deciding to just, descend to earth via their own methods (ghost summoning for Pariah and Trigon's kids) and decided to wreak havoc there.
You know, as family bonding.
Raven and the Teen Titans pop up immediately to stop both Trigon and the Ghost King with the Justice league, at least, they were until a glowing ghost teenager popped up trying to stop Pariah.
(He may have played into Danny's whole 'hero' thing by offhandedly mentioning he's going to take over an earth from an alternate dimension and letting those thoughts sit there until he gets up and does something about it.)
You know. As family bonding.
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ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused · 5 months
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DAY TWENTY-SEVEN: Praise Kink w/ MILF!Wanda Maximoff
a/n: Okay y'all listen, this is kind of a dark fic but not really? Still, I would read with a little bit of caution if you're sensitive to cheating. GUYS. You CANNOT blame me for the choices I made in this fic!!! This is pure fiction and I don't condone this AT ALL.
masterlist | kinktober masterlist | AO3
TAGLIST: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @their-love @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @murdadixon @hallecarey1 @bunnybabe-babydoll @alixwriter @dixonzzgirl @violettavirus
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The air was tense as Wanda bid her husband farewell, a loving smile on her face as she kissed his cheek and sent him on his way. But you knew better, even from where you stood in the kitchen, washing the dishes in the sink.
You were the boys' babysitter, though they weren't home seeing as though you just took them to their sports practices. Vision didn't find it strange that even though the kids weren't at home that you and Wanda hungout with each other. In fact, he rather found it a good thing seeing as though he worked a lot and his wife got the extra help.
And a good thing it was indeed.
After he finally left, the house was quiet, the only thing you could hear was the delicate noise of Wanda's flat covered feet padding over to stand behind you. Her energy was dark and intense, like a predator stalking it's prey. Her hands rested on your hips as she kissed up the side of your neck, pressing her lips against your pulse point.
Your head fell to the side, a pleasurable sigh slipping from between your lips. Your scrubbing paused, indulging in the redhead's affections.
"I missed you, darling." She whispered into the shell of your ear. Her dainty hands trailed up the front of your plush body, undoing the button of your jeans to slip it inside the band of your panties. A gasp tumbled from your lips when the pads of her fingers met your damp slit.
"Ah— I-I missed you too." You breathed out.
Her fingers descended towards your clit where she drew tight circles around it. Your hips lurched forwards and her kisses on your naked skin grew harsher, playfully nibbling on your earlobe.
"Gah! Fuck!" You cried. Your hands now rested on the edge of the counter where the sink was built into, your digits digging into the marble and metal basin.
The first finger of a very long night ahead of you penetrated your entrance. It felt like their air had been stolen out of your lungs as she massaged the sensitive padding of your g-spot.
Her praise only came when you clenched around her, sucking her in further until she had no choice but to enter a second.
"Good girl." She purred. "You're taking my fingers so well." You mewled when she put her thumb on your clit, but now she drew intelligible shapes and swirls on it. With every press of her pad drew you closer to your orgasm.
"I can already imagine how fucking dirty you look right now." She swore. You could hear the smirk on her pretty red lips, which was now probably smeared all over your neck. "Letting me fuck you open in my kitchen, mhm." She tsked.
"Wanda…" You whined in embarrassment, even though it came out more like a huff. "It's okay, baby." She teased. You squeezed your eyes shut, the familiar coil of pleasure threatening to snap in your gut.
"Cum for me, my sweet girl. I want to you feel cream all over my fingers."
With one last cry, and a few helpless grinds against her hand, you came. It was like there was an extra layer of pleasure that washed over you, and because your eyes were closed, you couldn't see the fact that Wanda was using her abilities to enhance your orgasm.
"Wanda, Wanda, Wanda…" You babbled, your legs quivering and clit throbbing in overstimulation.
She removed her fingers only to rub up and down your slit, smearing your cum and arousal all over your mound.
As you came down from your high, you felt her puffs of air hitting your ear.
"Don't get too tired, honey. We still have that new toy to try."
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withahappyrefrain · 2 years
Text
Parking Spots and Matcha Lattes
Summary: In an attempt to get coffee, you meet a grade A asshole whose head you want to rip off. Meanwhile, Jake Seresin is pretty certain he just met his future wife in the parking lot of a coffee shop.
AKA Jake Seresin likes mean women, pass it on.
Shout-out to @p3mybeloved who isn't in the TGM fandom, but is the inspiration for this fic ♥️♥️
Part two is up! As is part 3!
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It hadn’t been just a long day. It had been a long week.
And it was only Tuesday.
You were exhausted from working after hours to meet critical deadlines. If Barbara from admin found one more thing to nitpick, you were going to lose it.
So you decided to get coffee. Could you have made some at home? Absolutely. But you needed something, just a little something to make your morning brighter. Something that would remind you there was some good in the world and help you get through the first two hours of your day.
Instead of hitting snooze on your alarm clock five times, you got up after hitting it twice. You even remembered to apply deodorant and swipe on mascara. You left five minutes before your alarm to leave went off. Five whole minutes. You were on track to get coffee and get to work in plenty of time. Things were going well.
Too well.
You should have known something was about to fuck up your day when you saw the perfect parking spot. When the hell did that even happen? Never, you should have just gone to the back of the lot.
Foolishly, you started making your way towards the spot, thinking of all the things you could do with the extra minutes you would receive from your soon to be princess parking.
Your car and body lurched forward as you slammed on the brakes in order to not run into the white Jeep Wrangler that sped out from around the corner.
The heart palpitations you were experiencing from the sudden, potentially life saving decision descended into anger as you watched the speed demon take not just your desired parking spot, but also the one right next to it due to parking at an angle.
You gripped the steering wheel as rage seethed through your body. Instead of an elderly lady who just shouldn’t be driving, a tall blonde man dressed in some type of military uniform got out of the car. He didn’t even check his horrendous excuse of a parking job, walking into the coffee shop without a care in the world.
What a fucking asshole.
Normally you’d just find another spot and try to move on.
Not today. Because today was supposed to be a good day and you had done everything in your power to ensure it would start off on the right foot and this douchecanoe just ruined it.
So you found a nearby parking spot, walked over to the eyesore of a car and waited. All the rage and anger built up into you, thinking about his horrendous parking job, as well as the bullshit of your job.
You didn't even wait for him to say anything before tearing into him. The fact he was blonde and conventionally attractive added to your anger because of course a real life Ken doll would think it's okay to park like that.
"Hey dickhead! Who the fuck do you think you are, parking like that?"
"What the-oh wow," his voice trailed off when he took in all of you, not that you noticed.
"Is that how you drive tanks in the army? Because if so, holy shit, our country is-”
He scoffed, “Sweetheart, please. I’m a Lieutenant pilot for the Navy. And one of the best ones at that.”
Whether it was the Texan drawl that dripped through his voice or how he expected you to fall to your knees by revealing this information, you rolled your eyes.
“Oh, so you can fly million dollar planes but can’t park without taking up two spaces?” You remarked. He seemed to be taken aback by your comment, which gave you the motivation to keep going.
“First off, who the hell drives through a parking lot at forty-five miles an hour?! There are kids-well teenagers-who walk through here! I know your car is obnoxious as your personality, but not all of us get an adrenaline thrill from having to slam on their fucking breaks so they don’t crash into you.”
You didn’t notice how his emerald eyes were wide and staring right at you. You were on a roll.
“In fact, you probably wouldn’t have had to park so offensively if you had fucking slowed down. Or, you could have had a shred of decency and repark. Don’t they teach that in the military? To have honor or some shit? Or were you too busy doing bicep curls at the gym that day?”
It was then you noticed that his eyes were wide, reminding you of those stupid disney princes your cousins used to fawn over as kids. The look he had on his face made it seem like he was in a far off place, it was almost…..dreamy?
“Hello?” You waved a hand in front of his chiseled face, “Are you even listening to me?”
“I’m trying, but your eyes are super distracting, has anyone ever told you that?”
It took your brain several seconds to process what he just said. Then you had to take another ten seconds to process that he wasn’t being cocky or a smartass when he said it. He was being genuine.
What the actual fuck?
—---------------------------------------------
Jake Seresin woke up this morning, like any other day. He got up early so he could get coffee off base. The Starbucks they had on base was always overcrowded and bitter. Plus, it was nice to get off base for a little bit, get away from things and have a sense of normalcy.
He was not expecting to meet his future wife in the parking lot of a local coffee joint.
Nor was he expecting her to introduce herself by yelling at him.
But it was kinda perfect.
You were stunning, even though you assumed he was in the army, of all things (he’d let that one slide, you’ll learn eventually).
The passion in your eyes as you pointed out exactly what was wrong with his parking job was admirable, alluring, even enticing.
Jake couldn't lie, he'd thought you'd be impressed or at the very least, taken aback by his rank.
Instead, you steamrolled right past it, continuing to list what he had done wrong, taking stabs at him along the way.
It was hot.
You were making valid points. He didn't have to drive that fast, it wasn't like he was late.
But it was also extremely difficult to focus on what you were saying when those big bright eyes of yours were burning into him.
How could he focus on anything else?
So he was honest and told you so.
"What the fuck is your problem?!" You threw your hands up in exasperation.
That we aren't making out right now, is what Jake wanted to say. But his mother would smack him if she found out that's what he said to her future daughter-in-law during their first interaction.
"I have no problem darlin'. In fact, I'm pretty great. Got a matcha latte and have just met the most stunning girl in the world," he flashed that blindingly white smile, ready for you to ask for his number.
"You parked like that for a matcha latte? You couldn't have made me slam on my breaks for something that doesn't taste like dirt?" You spat.
Huh, normally that line worked. The fact it didn't was more exhilarating than nerve-wracking.
Jake honestly found it borderline erotic.
"I didn't realize I had met a parking and coffee expert," He preened, that award winning smile remaining on his face. He was curious, what could get you flustered?
You swore you could see red.
Oh, he was trying. Trying to knock you off balance. Trying to see if he could rattle you. It fueled you.
"I'm not an expert, it's called being a decent human being with common sense, you knockoff Ken doll." The lovesick look on his handsome face remained. If he was a cartoon, hearts would appear over his head.
Oh, you were perfect.
Outright asking for your number wouldn't work. Compliments were going right over your head. He had to change tactics.
He looked over at his parking job before facing you again, "Y'know, you're absolutely right. That was a shitty parking job."
Your eyes widened, surprised that this walking Crest Whitening Strips advertisement could admit he had done something wrong.
Jake continued, "And I'd love to learn more about how to park correctly from you…over dinner."
When you started ripping into him, you weren't exactly sure what to expect. Most likely an argument that would end with middle fingers thrown in the air as you both walked away.
Not him asking you out.
"You want me to continue yelling at you about your inability to park over dinner?" You asked. Perhaps the lack of oxygen he experienced from flying planes had affected his ability to think. Perhaps folks should study the effects his job had on the brain. Not that Congress would allow it (couldn't interfere with recruitment).
That stupidly white smile remained on his face, "I was also hoping I could learn more about you too."
Hesitation filled you. The officer (or whatever his rank was) was being genuine. His compliments didn't feel forced. It was just odd that after being yelled at for nearly ten minutes, the conclusion he came to was that he wanted to go on a date with you.
"Buy me coffee first." You challenged, crossing your arms over your chest as an attempt to come across as intimidating, despite how much taller the soldier was compared to you.
A smile broke out onto his face. Not a cocky one, but one that was soft and sweet.
It was almost endearing. Almost.
"Anything for you darlin'," he declared, sea green eyes sparkling, "I'm Jake by the way."
You didn't expect him to go through with it. Nor did you expect him to jog ahead so he could hold the door open for you.
A warm feeling began to flutter in your stomach, until you remembered his heinous parking skills. That warm sensation would transform into a quiet, bubbling rage.
"Hangman? The fuck kind of name is that?" You asked upon hearing him say it to the barista.
"It's my callsign darlin'," he explained, like it was the most obvious and sensible thing in the world.
"First off, my name is not darlin, I just told you it two minutes ago. Second, you are way too smug to be telling me how your callsign is after a children's recess game, Officer." You ignored the confused stare of the barista who handed you your drink.
"I didn't get it from the game and it's Lieutenant," he corrected, his voice the sharpest it had been since talking to you.
A nerve had been struck. Or so you thought.
You leaned forward, your cardigan brushing against the khaki shirt he wore.
"Learn how to park properly and maybe then I'll get your rank right, officer." You were quite proud of yourself for that one, considering he was actually silent for a few moments.
Meanwhile, Jake was doing everything in his power to not sport an erection in the middle of the coffee shop. Because holy shit, you were hot. It was ridiculous how your smirk almost made his knees buckle.
He wondered if you'd prefer an early summer or fall wedding. He had always envisioned getting married in late May. But the rust colored cardigan you had on perfectly complimented your complexion. You'd probably looked great in mustard too. But those colors were more appropriate for a fall wedding and not-
"Cat got your tongue? Or does the navy have their own expression?" Your voice broke Jake out of his thoughts.
He just smiled, shaking his head, "Just got distracted by how pretty you are. Gonna tell you now, I don't know if I'll be able to focus on parking standards during our date tonight. Might need a second one for review."
You rolled your eyes, "It's not a date it's…. actually I don't know what you call it when you are teaching a grown ass man how to properly park over dinner-"
"It's a date." The barista called out before turning around to work on the other orders. Heat rushed to your face as Jake slipped a five dollar bill into the tip jar.
"Whatever" you fumbled to get your phone out, pulling up a new contact, "just give me your number so I can text you the address of the restaurant."
He quirked an eyebrow, "You're picking the place?"
"You can't drive for shit and out of all the types of tea lattes you could drink, you go with matcha," you leaned in to look at the sticker on his cup, "with skim milk. The federal government may trust you with their jets, but like hell I'm gonna trust you to pick a restaurant."
Oh, he was definitely going to marry you. In his head, he already tried out pairing your first name with Seresin and it sounded heavenly.
He just grinned, his emerald eyes shining and you really wished he'd stopped doing that.
The scent of cedar wood flooded your nostrils as he leaned in, his face much closer to yours than it had been so far. Was he bending his knees to be at eye level with you?
Focus, you told yourself. He can't park for shit and got zero sweetener in his drink. Who the hell does that?
"I look forward to showing you on our date that I have great taste, as well as many talents that will have you overlooking my parking skills," his voice was low, dripping with a pathetic attempt of seduction that made you want to bang your head against the counter of the coffee bar.
"Type your phone number in before I throw my drink at you. I don't care if I get fined with 'defacing government property'." You all but shoved your phone into his chest, earning a chuckle from him that sent more heat to your body than rage.
"Anything for you, Venus." Did the obnoxiously bright smile ever go away?
"Y'know, you could have a really strong legal case for what all the lack of oxygen has done to your brain, like not being able to remember my name."
Jake shook his head, "Oh, I remember your name. Venus suits you better. Hottest planet, looks great in rust," he motioned to your cardigan, "Goddess of love and beauty. It's quite fitting for you."
This guy was unreal. The grip you had around your drink tightened, your bottom lip pushing forward to form an annoyed pout.
"I look forward to our date tonight, Venus," He said as he handed you back your phone, his long fingers brushing against yours.
Your eyes couldn't roll harder, "I look forward to serving my country by teaching you how to properly park, Hangnail."
"It's Hangman."
Now it was your turn to smirk, "Nah, Hangnail suits you better," your voice dropped, mocking his southern accent.
With that, you left the coffee shop. You had to, otherwise you were going to throw your drink at him.
You missed the downright lovesick smile that adorned Jake Sersin's face as he watched you walk out.
"Thanks for helping me meet my future wife y'all," He said to the very confused baristas.
"She looked like she wanted to murder you," one commented.
Jake laughed, shaking his head, "Don't worry. I'll win her over."
As you got in your car, a vibration from your phone buzzed in your pocket. You pulled it out, a message from an unknown number flashing on your screen.
Looking forward to our date tonight. Can't wait for your lesson Venus ;)
Oh that bastard. When the hell did he have time to send himself a text to get your number?
You shook your head despite the fact he couldn't see you.
A loud horn made you jump. You looked up from your phone to see the living embodiment of a Ken doll in his car that was now in the middle of the parking lot, right across from your car.
He waved. God, you wanted to wipe that smirk off his stupid face.
Instead, you rolled down your window.
"What the fuck are you doing?! You're going to block traffic!" You yelled.
"Text me your address Venus! I'll pick you up at seven!" He winked, driving away as he ignored your comment.
At least he wasn't speeding through the parking lot this time.
Maybe there was hope. Maybe. Doubtful. Probably not.
On the way back to base, Jake wondered if you'd prefer a silver or gold band for your engagement ring.
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@spidervee @sebsxphia @hangmanapologist @xbamboowishesx @rae-gar-targaryen @theharddeck @abibliophobiaa @mothdruid @stranger-nightmare @princessphilly
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honeysimagines · 2 years
Text
home
pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x fem!reader
plot: at a get together after the mission the dagger squad finds out some things about Rooster, causing Maverick to step up and try and help…
warnings: drinking, references to parental death and past trauma
notes: for K ♡︎, thank you for letting me bother you with this for weeks
words: 7k
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It was a bittersweet evening at The Hard Deck but they tried to not let it show. After the successful mission it was time to dismantle their little ragtag group of pilots and for everybody to head back to their former assignments. Sadly Fritz had to fly out in the early afternoon but the rest of the pilots and backseaters had descended upon the bar and shuffled some tables around with Penny’s permission to make a large circle where everybody found a place for at least the next few hours.
It felt good to be back on solid ground. While being in the air was one of the best feelings in Rooster’s mind he was glad to be off the ship again. With the old jukebox playing music and the patrons of the bar talking and laughing together it was a little easier to forget about the events that happened just a few days prior.
“You guys are lucky,” Harvard pointed out after everybody except Bob was a few drinks in, “at least you guys get a few weeks leave.” The other aviators knew it wasn’t coming from a place of malice, had they been in the place of the aviators that didn’t fly the mission they’d probably think exactly the same way. Everybody craved the comfort of home while deployed.
“Yeah,” Omaha added, “Leave would be nice. I wish I could head home, see family. My sister had a baby months ago, never even met the kid and he’s already crawling.”
“Maybe Mav can put in a nice word with the commander. Make it so everybody can go home faster.” Rooster said after taking a drink of his beer, “Although with him there’s always a chance we’d end up shipped out overseas for a few months.”
A few nods and words of agreement greeted Maverick as he made his way back to the group after not so sneakily disappearing to the back of the bar with Penny earlier. At least he was smart enough to get a new beer so he could play it off as just getting another drink, even if none of the other aviators bought it. “What are we talking about?”
“Leave.”
The older man just took his place among his now former students, looking around. “That’s nice. What are everybody’s plans?”
Most of the others just answered with the basics. Going to see family, spending some time with their loved ones. Hangman wanted to use his time for a vacation and Rooster didn’t doubt that in a week there’d be pictures of Hangman’s abs at a beautiful tropical beach all over social media. At least that gave him time to prepare a witty joke he could send in the groupchat to roast the blond.
Realizing he was the only one of the lucky ones that hadn’t shared his plans, Rooster took another drink of his beer, finishing the bottle before putting it down on the table in front of him. “Don’t know yet. Probably going to spend some time catching up with Mav and after that head home to see the missus.”
Several heads whipped around to look at him with a speed that put fighter jets to shame. Rooster was sure he saw poor Bob get whipped in the face by Phoenix’ ponytail hard enough for his glasses to become crooked on his face.
“The what now?!” Multiple voices said loud enough to draw the attention of other patrons but the group skillfully avoided paying attention to them.
Hangman let out a fake cough to hide his reaction but he couldn’t hide the curiosity in his voice as he spoke. “Didn’t know you were married, Rooster.”
“Congrats.” Mavericks' voice tore him out of his thoughts about how Hangman had no reason to know his relationship status. His godfather looked at him with a certain sadness in his eyes that made Rooster mad for a split second before he reminded himself that they were working on mending their relationship and a missed wedding might have been another thing to add to the list of life events they didn’t share like they should have.
“I’m not married.” He paused, trying to find the right words to describe what the two of you were. “It’s an… inside joke with an old friend.”
“Oh that’s-”
“I thought about asking her once but… yeah no I’m not married.” He rambled on, unable to stop himself, almost forgetting about his fellow pilots as he looked at Maverick and the way his eyebrows knit up in confusion.
The rest of the group just looked at him before Halo slapped her knees before standing up, signaling she was ready to leave.
“And that’s our cue. Come on boys, let’s give the Daggers some privacy. You coming with, Coyote?”
“Nah, I’m Hangman’s ride. Can’t leave him with the bunch. He’d just say something to piss them off and they’d leave him here.”
It wasn’t a tearful goodbye but hugs and handshakes were exchanged alongside promises to stay in touch. But almost as soon as Halo led Omaha, Yale, and Harvard away from the table all heads turned to Rooster again. Great.
“Alright, spill!” Phoenix ordered. Bob behind her enthusiastically nodded his head to back his pilot up.
“Guys, maybe that’s not-”
“Ignore Maverick. Spill Rooster!” Hangman interrupted.
Sighing he looked at his empty beer on the table in front of him and wished he had a full one in its place. Or maybe a tall soft drink glass full of whiskey neat.
“Here.” Mav pushed over the beer he picked up earlier, opened but still full.
“There’s not much to talk about.” He tried to defend himself. “She’s a friend. A good friend.”
That wasn’t enough to satisfy the lot in front of him though. Phoenix was motioning for him to continue and part of him wished it was just her he was talking too. She had always been a good friend. A good person to talk to when he had the need to talk. Even if they rarely had the chance to just sit down and chat due to the nature of their work.
“Lives in the old house.” He continued in a low voice, hearing his godfather inhale sharply next to him.
“I wasn’t ready to let it go but I- I couldn’t stay there. Not alone. Not after mom died. So when I left and she needed a place to stay I told her she could have it. Tried to pay me rent for years but I don’t take it. If she didn’t stay there it would be empty anyways so why waste a perfectly good house, you know. I go back every few months and she keeps my shit around.”
He just focused on the bottle in front of him, thumbing away at the label as the stares of his friends bore holes into him.  
“That’s….nice.” The hesitant tone alone voided the words, he didn’t need to see the unsure face on top of it. He didn’t even want to imagine what the group was thinking of him at that moment. Revealing his tragic backstory in the middle of a bar.
“It’s not really home but it’s… it’s a homebase. Someplace to retreat to in case I’m back stateside.”
“And how long has this been going on?” Bob asked from behind Phoenix, confused, and Rooster was suddenly reminded of the years he had on them. Years because Mav held him back.
Years because he tried to protect you - a soft voice that sounded too much like his mother reminded him in the back of his head.
“Fifteen years? Give or take.” He mumbled.
“And how long have you been fucking her?” Three arms reached across the table to swat at Hangman for his question, Phoenix getting him in the arm hard enough for him to wince loudy.
“Fifteen years. Give or take.”
The only thing preventing an awkward moment of silence falling over the group was the fact that Fanboy choked on his beer hard enough that for the next few moments all the attention went to him, their group making sure that the WSO didn’t die. It didn’t prevent an awkward pause that followed after though. It was heavy, only interrupted by muffled coughing.
“Wasn’t expecting that to be completely honest.” Hangman said after everybody had mostly calmed down. When Rooster looked over to him he saw that the usual cocky smirk was nowhere to be found on Hangman’s face and for the first time in his life he wished the other man would make fun of him. Look at him with something more than blank surprise or maybe thinly veiled pity.
“Fifteen years is a pretty long relationship to have, Rooster. Even if you’re not married, that's still impressive.” Coyote tried to be uplifting, smiling at him across the table.
“We’re not dating either. Told you she’s just a friend.”
“But you’re fucking?” Hangman asked.
“Whenever I go back. Unless she’s in a relationship at the time which hasn’t really happened yet because she doesn’t really date but most of the time, yeah.”
Across the table Payback raised his beer to him before taking a sip. “I mean… friends with benefits isn’t bad. Me and my wife started out as fuckbuddies before I grew the balls to ask her out for real.”
A few of the guys around the table nodded in agreement while Phoenix rolled her eyes hard enough that Rooster was worried they’d get stuck, but nobody added on to what Payback said.
Another few moments of silence followed before Bob spoke up, all eyes on the quiet WSO. “So let me get this straight. You and this woman have been on again off again fuckbuddies for the past fifteen years. She lives in your house. You nearly asked her to marry you….. and you still insist that she is just a friend?”
It came out rather harsh and nobody really knew how to react, least of all Rooster. Nodding, he took another drink of his beer, breaking eye contact with Bob.
Pushing his chair back from the table Bob moved to get up from their table. “Jesus fuck I need a drink.”
“Bob, you don’t drink.” Phoenix pushed her chair back too, quick to back up her backseater.
“I’m starting now.”  
Six pairs of eyes watched as the two walked over to the bar but the men soon found themselves returning their attention back to the conversation.
“That’s a long time to pine over somebody, Rooster.” Fanboy chimed in, the pilots around the table nodding in agreement.
Before he could defend himself that he wasn’t pining, Hangman decided to speak up again.
“Jesus dude I know you like to wait things out but that’s long even for you.” Putting his arm around his shoulder he continued, “Gonna make your move when you get back? You’re a hero now Rooster, that gets the girls hot. No way she’ll say no.”
Without looking at the other man Rooster just shook off his arm, not taking his eyes off the bottle in front of him. Half the label was missing at this point but scratching at it kept his hands busy at least. “She’s just a friend, Bagman. Just a friend.”
Before any of the others could comment on it, Bob and Phoenix made their way back over to the group, letting themselves fall into the seats they had abandoned before. Their little comeback thankfully drew the attention to them and off Rooster, something he really appreciated. Judging by the way Bob was looking, his first drink didn’t go over all that smoothly.
“How’d he do Phoenix?” Mav teased.
“Went straight for the tequila. I tried to tell him he should start out with a beer but noooo.” She drew out the vowel, interrupted herself with a short giggle, before continuing, “Doubleshot of the cheapest tequila Penny had, didn’t even pull a face.” Phoenix bragged while giving Bob an encouraging pat on the back as he kept quiet. She turned to Hangman, sizing him up before adding. “You can ask Penny if you don’t believe me, Bagman.”
“Nah screw that.” Hangman replied, jumping up in his seat and leaning across the table to get closer to Bob, and Rooster was glad that they seemed to have found a new topic to latch onto. “First time and he went straight for the kill. Atta boy Bobby. Mister B.O.B.”  
Most people around the table joined in with Hangman who continued to go on and on like usual while Rooster just went back to focusing on the bottle in front of him. He continued to thumb at the label, using the nail to push the paper back little by little. Almost everybody had stopped paying attention to him but he could feel Maverick’s gaze burn into the side of his head. He just hoped the older man would let it go.
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Maverick did not let it go.
Two days after the night at The Hard Deck he was pounding on the door of Rooster’s room until he had no other choice but to roll out of bed. Stumbling his way to the door with half closed eyes he cursed as he walked straight into a table, a hand coming up to rub over his thigh while the other one pulled open his front door.
“What?” The words came out harder than he intended but the other man didn’t react, instead pushing past him into the room.
“Great, you’re up. Come on get dressed, we need to leave soon.”
“It’s like…” He picked up his phone from the nightstand, dropping it onto the bed after he saw the time. “6 in the goddamn morning. Why are you waking me up at 6am on my day off, Mav?”
“I want to show you something but we need to hit the road soon unless you want it to become an overnight trip. So go and get ready.” Maverick picked up a shirt he had thrown over a chair a day or two ago and threw it at Rooster, catching him off guard enough for it to hit him square in the face.
Knowing full well he couldn’t escape this trip Rooster just sighed and gathered his things so he could get ready. Hurrying through the process of getting ready until he was standing back in his room, silently looking at Mav while the older man looked at the pictures Rooster had taped up next to his bed.
Most of his memories were kept in his phone nowadays but he still liked to keep a few  physical pictures with him on deployment. An old strip from a photobooth the two of you had squeezed yourself into, you perched on his lap with his arms wrapped around your middle while you made faces into the camera right next to the picture of his parents with their arms around each other. Maverick was focused on the third picture that was taped up though, their last family picture from before the accident. It had been hard to bend the picture in a way that properly hid Mav since they were all crowded together, Mom and Dad and Mav with little Rooster in the middle. He didn’t regret not tearing it apart in a fit of anger though. Instead he had taken it down after the mission, carefully straightened out the picture until Maverick was no longer hidden behind the back of the picture and next to them again, before putting it back up with their family reunited.
Rooster watched as he reached out and trailed a finger across the crease. It felt like he was interrupting a moment so he just stood still for a few more seconds, giving Maverick a little bit more time. When the other man turned around he didn’t seem surprised to see Rooster standing in the middle of his room though, a small smile growing on his face.
“Ready to go, kid?”
“Yeah.” He replied, waiting for Mav to bring up the pictures or where they were going but nothing came in response.
“Great.” Maverick stepped past him, hand coming up to give his shoulder a firm pat. “We’re taking your Bronco.”
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It wasn’t until they were out of San Diego and making their way down a highway out east that Maverick opened up a little. He had been designated to the passenger side, left to peruse through the handful of cassette tapes in the glove box and play navigator while Rooster drove.
“Good selection.”
Out of the corner of his eyes Rooster could see the older man’s hands stopping once he came across a familiar mixtape, his own illegible handwriting staring back at him. He had played the tape over the years, knew the songs by heart even. But he still wasn’t able to read the writing. Your daddy had the nicest handwriting - his mother used to tell him - always filling out paperwork for Maverick. It wasn’t until he was older that he understood why his mother continued to do the same after his father’s death. A small act of kindness towards the poor soul that had to deal with Maverick Mitchell, saving at least a little bit of their sanity by shielding them from his terrible chicken scratch. Mav could write legibly when he cared, Rooster had a shoebox full of cards and letters at the old house that proved this, but he never really cared for paperwork.
Still focusing most of his attention on the road in front of them, Rooster saw the older man opening the case and carefully putting it into the correct slot on the old car. It took a moment for it to start but he smiled as the intro to Danger Zone began playing. Mav was nodding his head along the rhythm and Rooster could feel himself being overcome by some kind of nostalgic sorrow.
He was young when his father died. Too young. That wasn’t something he ever tried or was able to hide. But he tried his hardest to shield the ones around him from the full truth and maybe lie to himself a little. Nick Bradshaw had been a good man and he deserved to be remembered as such by his loved ones. Which just caused his limited memories of his dad to be all the more painful. No matter how hard Rooster tried to find new memories hidden away in a far corner of his brain he was stuck with a handful of amazing but painful ones.
It must have been mere days before the accident. His mom was somewhere, he didn’t quite know where, but his dad and his uncle Mav were with him. He remembered that the radio was blasting Danger Zone and that the adults had been singing along. They had all jumped across the room wildly and his uncle had picked him up only to collapse onto a couch or bench or something similar towards the end of the song.
After their falling out it had taken him years until he could listen to the song again without getting overwhelmed by emotions. But sitting here now, side by side with the man he tried to hate for years, all that heaviness he’d been carrying around with himself seemed to lift. It would never be like that one carefree summer afternoon in San Diego again but Rooster was certain that they could work towards mending their relationship again and he looked forward to it.
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They had been driving for hours and Rooster was starting to get tired of the scenery. While he appreciated the desert as a beautiful place in theory after driving through it for a while it started to become too monotonous for him. They had stopped at a diner in a small town around eleven and eaten what would probably be considered brunch although there was a distinct lack of mimosas. He had filled the tank while Mav picked up some things from a nearby store and they were on the road again before noon.
“There’s a dirt road up ahead, on the left side. No street sign but you’ll see it.”
It was easy to follow his directions, pulling the Bronco into the street and making their way down the road. He could see a building up ahead, far enough removed from the main road to not be visible to passing cars but now that they were on the smaller dirt road Rooster was able to see that they were heading straight towards it.
An airplane hangar. Maverick had taken him to an airplane hangar. In the middle of the damn Mojave.
He slowed down the car once they got close enough, coming to a stop near the access doors but off to the side so he wouldn’t block the runway. If it involved Mav and a hangar there would definitely be planes around and he didn’t want to be in the way.
“Remember the thing you talked about last time at The Hard Deck?” Maverick said, hopping out of the car and Rooster had to suppress a laugh at the sight before he exited the Bronco too.
He watched as Maverick walked over to the middle of the hangar and raised his voice a little so that the older man could hear him even as he walked away. “What thing? I talked about a lot of things.”
“About the old house and it being your homebase.” Maverick was fiddling around with the chain that hung in the middle of the giant doors but Rooster couldn’t see what exactly he was doing, even as he walked closer.
“Well….” The chain rattled as it fell to the ground but Mav picked it up before giving each side of the heavy doors a push. “Welcome to my homebase.” Maverick said before slipping through the gap in the door and disappearing into the darkness.
Homebase. The stupid word echoed in his mind as he hesitated to follow the older man into the hangar. He had said that, hadn’t he? Downplayed the significance of you, your home… his home. Expressing his feelings had never been his strong suit but part of him didn’t regret his selfish choice of words. He trusted the daggers with his life but he didn’t want to share your relationship with them, not when he wasn’t sure of things himself.
He couldn’t bare himself to them in such a manner. Not when he still struggled to come to terms with things himself.
Trying to shake those thoughts he followed after Mav. The inside of the hangar was significantly darker than the outside even with the slight opening in the doors letting in light and his eyes needed a moment to adjust before he could see but when they did he looked around the large space in awe.
Rooster knew that the older man had an affinity for all things speed -bikes and planes, even the occasional sports car- but looking around he was surprised by how many machines he could see. Just from a first glance he counted at least 15, half of which he somewhat remembered from his childhood, as well as an old P-51 and… random furniture placed in front of a trailer?
“What-” He started but didn’t finish his sentence. What would he even ask? What is this place? Homebase. Mav had already said that.
He looked around again, trying to find Maverick between the machines.
“Go sit down.”
He nearly jumped at the sound of Mav’s voice echoing through the hanger. He hadn’t seen or heard him coming at all.
“I’ll go get the bags from the car but you go sit. Or go look around. Make yourself at home. Just don’t touch anything.”
The way he said it sounded like an adult warning a small child. Don’t touch anything, you could get hurt. And for a second Rooster thought about all the years he had spent with Maverick and his machines. How they had fixed up old bikes and Mav had patiently explained what every tiny screw does before ruffling his hair and telling him good job buddy for handing him a wrench. How he had helped Rooster get all his licenses from bikes to cars to planes and then let him take out some of the machines for joyrides or to impress girls at his high school. How he knew what he was doing and if he wanted to he could touch because he knew not to get hurt. Because he’s not a kid anymore. Because Mav taught him how not to get hurt.
But instead he kept quiet and looked around.
Rooster spent a while looking at the P-51. That thing must have cost a fortune even if it was old and Mav did the repairs himself. It was a gorgeous plane though and he hoped that he could convince his godfather to take him up with it soon.
The row of bikes felt so familiar it hurt but he still ran his fingers over the polished metal with care. All neatly lined up along the side of the hangar.
When he was younger Mav kept a locker covered in stickers in their garage. He still had the same locker now in the hangar and the collection of stickers had only grown. He used to go into the garage to look at them all the time when he was a child. Stickers of the different squadrons in all colors of the rainbow. He had them all memorized before he had memorized all 50 states. This one is where Ice flies -Maverick would point out- and this one is the squad that has to deal with Wolfman and Hollywood. They had gone through all the different symbols and pointed out when one of Mav’s friends flew with them.
As a kid he often wondered which squadron he would be assigned to, what insignia he would rep. He slowly raised a hand and ran his fingers over the Golden Warriors sticker at the side of the locker when something past the locker caught his eye.
Pictures upon pictures taped to the wall, familiar faces staring back at him. He could see pictures of Maverick and his parents as he stepped closer. Iceman. Their class at top gun.
Himself.
One of the pictures he knew. It was taken the day his high school baseball team had won a state championship and he remembered feeling like he was on top of the world. His mom had already been sick at that point but her prognosis had been good. Mav had been home from deployment and was able to bring his mom and together they had cheered loud enough that they could be heard across the entire pitch. Other teens would have felt embarrassed but Bradley had felt nothing but love. They had taken him out to eat afterwards and he had talked their ears off while stuffing his face with fries. His mother hadn’t even scolded him for talking with his mouth full. He had asked about the naval academy and if they had a baseball team and if Mav thought he should join. They’d all been so happy.
Not even a year later his mom was dead and Mav had pulled his papers and he had found himself on the other side of the continent completely alone.
Mav had another picture of him as well although he didn’t know where he got it. It was a newer one of him in his uniform, taken before the start of his last deployment. Ice, he answered his own unasked question. There was only one person that held enough rank and love for Maverick to get a hold of his picture.
He should have reached out sooner. If not to Mav then at least Iceman. Even in his stubbornness he had to admit that the late admiral had never treated him with anything but kindness and now it was too late to apologize.
“There you are.” Mav’s voice came from behind him and Rooster was proud that he didn’t flinch at the sudden noise. He had completely forgotten that he wasn’t alone in the hangar.
Instead of speaking immediately he took a deep breath and swallowed down his feelings. One step at a time. First he’d mend things with Mav for the future, then he’d ask for forgiveness for the past.
“Quite the collection you got here.” He said instead.
“Yeah?” He could see how the older man’s eyes lighted up at the mention of his machines. “I got more up here and a few more back there.” He turned around to point them out to Rooster, taking a few steps away from the side of the hangar.
“I’ve put the bikes on the backburner for a little bit to focus on the plane but as soon as I get it back up and running I have a few that need repairs. Maybe you could come and help me out a little. Like old times.” Mav smiled.
“That would be nice.”
He watched as Maverick walked over to the sitting area and followed. He disappeared into the trailer for a moment only to come out holding two bottles in his hands and gesturing for Rooster to sit. It was almost as if he had set up a little living room in the middle of the hangar. With an armchair and a couch, a small coffee table all on a big rug in front of the trailer. Wait…
“Mav do you fucking live here?”
Mav just gestured to the couch. “Sit down Bradley.”
It felt weird to be called Bradley again. For years he had only gone by Rooster or Bradshaw, building it up almost like a second identity or an armor. To him it felt like he had left Bradley behind years ago when he left home. Still, he sat down.
He looked at Mav.
Mav looked at him.
“Yes Bradley. I’ve been living in this hangar for the past few years while stationed at a nearby air base.” He finally said.
“In that trailer?”
Mav didn’t say anything, just nodded while looking at him.
He shifted a little where he sat on the couch, trying to avoid eye contact. “So you’re just all alone out here in the desert?”
“You know I’m used to being on my own, Bradley. No wife, no kids.”
Nobody to mourn you when you burn in.
He should have known that he would end up eating his words. No matter how much anger and distress he was feeling when he spoke them, no words were said without consequences and he was about to be faced with his.
He shifted in his seat again, still not meeting the older man’s eyes. “Mav, listen…”
“No. No.” Mav took a deep breath and let in out loud enough for him to hear it through the distance between them. “You were right.”
Another silence fell over them, this one weighing heavier on him than the ones before.
“I fear we’re a lot more similar than either of us would like to admit.”
It sounded less than a statement and more like a confession or maybe even a little bit of an apology. Like it pained Maverick to admit it and he had to force himself to say them. As if it had been a shortcoming on his end that had made them this way and not just the universe playing a cruel joke.
“There are… a lot of things we need to talk about and a lot of things I need to apologize for but not now. We have all the time in the world to talk things out but that’s not why I brought you here.”
“Then why did you?” His own voice sounded strange to him but he couldn’t figure out why. His thoughts were racing but at the same time his mind felt emptier than ever.
“I don’t want you to repeat the same mistakes I made.”
“Mav…”
“People like us belong in the sky and when something comes along to threaten that things turn ugly. You think there’s nothing worse than having that freedom taken away from you but there is. Because we can’t… we can’t stay up there forever, Bradley, no matter how hard we try. Once that’s taken away you have to look around and see what’s waiting for you on the ground. And when you see there’s nothing waiting for you… That’s scary, kid.”
Although he understood every word coming out of Maverick’s mouth he couldn’t understand what he was saying.
“You’re allowed to put down roots without them chaining you to the ground. You’re allowed to build a home and a family without fear holding you back.”
And all of a sudden his words began to make sense.
No wife. No kids.
Just like him.
Somebody to mourn him if he burns in.
“I don’t think…”
“Don't think. Just do.”
That damn sentence had burrowed itself into his mind. Nested itself deep enough in his subconscious that there was no way he’d ever get rid of it again and Maverick repeating them now did nothing to soften the blow he felt.
“You love her, don’t you?”
Such a simple question. Such a simple answer. Yet it felt like he had to force himself to admit it. “Yes.”
“Then tell her.”
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Sometimes home wasn’t a place but a person but there had to be some incredible luck involved for the two to overlap for him.
For years he had felt a certain type of sadness while driving up to his childhood home, reminiscing about all he’s lost, but as he pulled his Bronco into the little driveway all he could think about was what he was about to gain. His stomach was twisting and turning in anticipation.
Part of him wondered if he was doing the right thing, finally confessing to you. The friendship you had built over the span of more than one decade was too important and he didn’t want to mess it up. It had been easier when he was young and stupid and fell into bed with you the first time without consideration but now your time together weighted on him. He hesitated before exiting the car, mentally going over everything he wanted to say and repeating the words Mav had told him before sending him on his way.
She wouldn’t have waited fifteen years for you to get your act together if she wasn’t head over heels in love with you too.
Oh how he hoped that Maverick was right.
Taking one last deep breath he opened the door and got out, throwing it closed behind him. You had planted some new flowers in the front yard. Last time he had been here he was greeted by soft yellow flowers but now all he could see was a beautiful red. Granted it had been a few months since he last came by but he still felt a slight sting at the change. Not that it happened -he was glad that you actually felt at home in your house and comfortable enough to change the greenery- but the fact that he missed it. As he made his way towards the front door he thought about all the other things that could have changed since he saw you last. Did you get new pillows for the couch? Hung new pictures on the walls?
He had to search through his keys for a moment before he found the house key but as soon as he did he unlocked the door and stepped inside. There were noises coming from the tv in the living room and he had no problem imagining you curled up on the couch with a soft blanket and a mug held between your soft hands with one of your shows playing.
“Honey, I’m home!” He called out, hoping that you wouldn’t be able to hear the desperation in his voice and only the excitement.
Instead of a response he could only hear a crash coming from the living room and instantly became concerned. He couldn’t take more than two steps down the hallway though before you suddenly appeared at the other end of the small space. Messy hair and comfy clothes he didn’t have time to brace himself before you all but tackled him, clinging to his body while his arms came up to hold you up and against him.
Holding you in his arms again just made him feel so much more confident in his decision. His body still felt a little sore even a week after the mission but he’d never tell you out of fear that you would lessen your crushing embrace. The last thing he wanted right now was to be separated from you in any way. He could feel saying something against his shoulder but he couldn’t hear anything, the sound muffled by his shirt.
You must have realized that he wasn’t able to understand what you were saying because you pulled away a little so he could understand you better. “You’re home.” You almost whispered, voice airy and light and a big smile on your face. “Why are you home? You’re supposed to be overseas, why are you here? You always text me before you’re home or at least give me a call. Are you okay? What happened?”
He smiled as you took his hands between your hands, trying to see if he was hurt while rambling and he just couldn’t hold himself back any longer so he leaned down and finally, finally put his lips on yours in the softest, most loving kiss he could muster with the amount of desire running through his body. If he surprised you with his kiss you didn’t show it, instead your lips began to move against his, only for him to pull away once you try to deepen the kiss.
“I love you.”
The words didn’t feel foreign in his mouth even though it was the first time he said them for a long long time. He’s been running from his true feelings for as long as he could remember but now that he managed to spill them he couldn’t stop.
“I love you. I love you. I love you.”
Realizing that he was still holding you up, he carefully lowered you down until there was solid ground underneath your feet. You looked so sweet just standing there and part of him just wanted to swoop you right up again. Instead he brought one of his hands up to cradle your face, carefully stroking his thumb over your cheek.
“Baby...” You started but stopped when his thumb brushed over your bottom lip.
“I love you and I’m sorry.”
He could see your brows furrow in confusion so he continued.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I was scared and it took me fifteen years to finally admit it but I love you. I love you and I’m not scared anymore and I’m yours… in any way that you’ll have me.” It was a blatant lie. He wasn’t just scared, he was absolutely terrified. Not just about his confession but also the future and the past and everything in between. But he needed to tell you how he felt so desperately.
Your hand touching his brought him back from his thoughts, cradling his hands while he cradled your face and a smile so wide he couldn’t focus.
When you spoke your voice was barely more than a whisper. “Oh you stupid man.”
For an awful drawn-out second he couldn’t breathe before your lips met his again and he felt whole again. Deepening the kiss all he could think about was how he was never letting go of you again.
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Lieutenant Jakob Middlename Seresin enjoyed the simple things in life. A cold beer, a light breeze, and a beach full of attractive people were paradise on earth for him. After the recent mission all he wanted to do was lay back and relax before he had to head back out for deployment so when two of his old academy buddies talked about their new house in Hawai’i he invited himself to crash in their guest bedroom for two weeks and so far it had been nothing but pure bliss.
Taking a picture of his current view he sent it to his parents before pulling up the group chat Fanboy had made for everybody involved in the mission. He had missed about 50 messages but just from scrolling past them he picked up that Bob had sent a picture with his family and now everybody was roasting him for how out of character it seemed. Apparently there were flannel shirts and horses involved and Jake was just about to scroll back up to take a look himself so that he could join in the fun when a new message was sent to the group chat that caused him to drop his phone into the fine sand with a bitten off curse.
Rooster 🐓
getting hitched in vegas this wknd, be there or be square
txt Mav for details
Before he could fully process what he just read the chat was blowing up again. Text after texts came in expressing various degrees of excitement but Jake just read over Rooster’s text again before putting his phone away. With a sigh he brought his half-empty beer up to his lips and emptied the bottle before getting up to make his way back to the house.
It was only Wednesday so he still had a little time to enjoy his vacation before he had to head back to the mainland and he fully planned on enjoying it. He just needed to ask his friends where he could buy some gaudy Hawaiian shirts first. Maybe he’d even find some Vegas wedding appropriate ones.
He wouldn’t leave his wingman hanging.
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noisynaia · 1 year
Note
Hi! Can you do a Din x F!reader where when Din is visiting Greef Karga and telling him about how he wants to redeem himself, but then Karga asks him if that's really what he truly wants? Maybe the reader takes Grogu somewhere while they talk and he asks Din something like, "Have you ever considered not going back to Mandalore? You can be happy here with her." Or something along those lines? Thanks! You have a great talent! ♡
𝑊𝐻𝐼𝑇𝐸 𝐹𝐼𝐸𝐿𝐷𝑆
Thank you so much sweet anon 💕 This is such a lovely idea and I had such a great time writing it. I live for soft Din who just yearns for happiness but needs a little help realising that he is deserving of it. 💗
word count: 5.4k 
pairing: Din Djarin x f!reader 
note: Mutual pining. Love confessions. Found family. The helmet comes off. Din has his first kiss. The Razor Crest lives. No use of (y/n). This has not been beta read and English is not my native language.
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You are sitting in the passenger seat of the cockpit with Grogu, who is softly babbling, in your lap as he cradles his beloved little silver ball with both of his tiny hands. Din is sitting in the pilot chair next to you, getting the Razor Crest ready for landing. You can’t help but stare at him as he skillfully manoeuvres the ship. You have been travelling with the Mandalorian and his foundling for a little over a standard year now and what had started out as a small crush on Din has now bloomed into so much more, even though you had tried to fight it and protect your heart you have fallen utter and deeply in love with him. 
The three of you are on your way to Nevarro to talk to Din’s employer Greef Karga. You have been with him to Nevarro a few times before and you are exited to be back, but you can’t help but worry that this might be your last time on the planet, at least while travelling with Din and little Grogu.
You have tried to fight your feelings for Din, but no matter how badly you tried there was nothing you could do to stop yourself from falling. You know that you are only setting yourself up for heartache, knowing that there is no way that the two of you ever could be together, even if he reciprocated your feelings which you don’t think he does. He is Mandalorian after all and you are not…  Even though he is now an apostate. But that is why he will be travelling to Mandalore, to proclaim his creed and seek redemption and you can’t help but have a feeling that that journey won’t involve you which hurts. You know that your stay on the Crest always has been temporary. Just a job, after all. Just a needed help looking after Grogu. Staying on the ship with the little youngling while Din is out hunting bounties, but you feel like Din soon will tell you that you no longer will be needed. 
That you will be parted with Din is going to hurt, but losing Groguis going to be unbearable. You have ended up caring so much for the little green kid, loving him so much, you don't think you could love him more had he been your own child. It is terrifying, the thought that you one day will have to say goodbye to him. You try not to think too much about it and you shake your head as Din is landing on the barren ground that constitutes as the spaceport of Nevarro City. 
You cradle Grogu in your arms as you descend down the ramp with Din, the warm glow of the late afternoon sun is reflecting off his beskar making him look even more impressive than usual. You can’t help but feel proud to be walking by his side as you step through the pillars of the tall arch that open Nevarro City up from the spaceport. You are met by Karga that are walking towards you, arms spread in a welcoming gesture and a big wide smile lighting up his face. You can’t help but giggle when you notice that he has two small droids in tow, holding the ends of his long robe so it doesn’t drag along the ground.  
“Mando, my friend! I was beginning to fear you would never return.” Karga greets him before turning his attention to you, offering you a great big smile. “And I see your beautiful travel companion hasn’t left you yet.” He lets out a friendly laugh. “You haven’t got tired of that old bucket head yet my dear?” You let out a giggle, you have missed the older man’s friendly, teasing banter.  
“Not yet.” You smile at him. “Besides, this little one makes me stick around.” You say, looking lovingly down at the little child in your arms. 
Grogu is shrieking with happiness at the familiar face and Karga looks at him with an even wider grin on his face than before, if that is even possible. “And would you look at that, my favourite little green baby! How are you doing kid?”  
“Grogu.” Din says in a flat but not unfriendly tone, looping his thumb in his belt.
“Come again?” Karga turns towards the Mandalorian.  
“His name, It’s Grogu.” Din clarifies. 
“Huh, if you say so.” Karga shrugs his shoulders before taking Din’s gloved hand in his, placing his other hand on the armour of Din’s upper arm in a welcoming gesture. “Now come, come! A great deal has happened here since your last visit.” 
It is true that a lot of things have happened, the city is looking amazing, many of the buildings are new and shiny, more trees and greenery than ever before, even the people on the street look more vibrant and happy.   
“Yes, a lot of things have changed here. It doesn’t even look like the same place.” Din lets out. 
“Yes, yes! We have a construction boom going on in the city, it is all rather exciting. But now come, come! It has been a while and I’m sure we have plenty to discuss.” Karga smiles, clearly proud of the new state of the city. “The two of you are very welcome to join us, of course, but I will not take offence if you would prefer to take a look around instead, it will probably be more exciting for the little one.” Karga addresses you, gesturing to Grogu. “I will happily offer one of my droids to give a tour of the new city if you are interested or maybe show you to the healing baths, those Twi’leks know what they’re doing, very soothing.” 
“Thank you but I think we will be alright. I think we will go to the bazaar, find something nice for this one.” You smile down at Grogu who is happily cooing at your words.  
“Good choice, you have to spoil the little bogwing as much as possible, being spoiled is an important part of being a youngling. And make sure you go to the fruit market. The meiloorun melons are most delectable this time of year.” Karga states before turning to Din. “Well, shall we, Mando? I’m sure we have a lot to discuss.” 
Din turns his head back at you, his visor looking straight at you and you know that his eyes under his helmet must be locked with yours, it is a thought that always sends a warm rush through you and makes your heart beat a little faster. 
“I’ll find you later. You have your com on you, right? ” He asks you which makes you roll your eyes with a teasing smile on your lips even though you still feel your heart beat a little faster than normal by his gaze. 
“Of course.” You say, picking up the little device from your pocket to show him. “But we will be fine. You worry too much.” You say as you put the comlink back in your pocket. “I’ll call you if a reptavian is out to eat us or if we are about to be abducted by pirates or, I don’t know, maybe a kowakian is stealing Grogu’s meiloorun.” You tease him, he is always being so overprotective.
“Ah, ah. You must remember, a man is always allowed to worry about the people he loves. ” Karga chuckles while giving Din a playful pat on the back. Your smile falls at this and you feel your face heat at his comment. Din clears his throat awkwardly. You know that Din cares for you, but in what capacity you’re not sure, he is always making sure that you are safe and comfortable. He, of course, loves Grogu dearly, but Karga’s innuendo about Din loving both of you has your heart beating even faster than before.
“Shall we.” Din comments quickly, clearly flustered by Karga’s words too.  
“Sure.” Karga exclaims. “It was lovely to see you again, now go and enjoy the city. I think you will find the place quite pleasant, we have built a new school too, great for the little ones.” He tells you, gesturing at Grogu, like he is trying to sell the idea of settling down here before turning to leave with Din. 
You watch the backs of the two men as they walk up the stairs before they disappear into Karga’s building. You shake your head slightly before looking down at Grogu. “Shall we?” You ask him, echoing Din’s words from before. The little kid gurgles happily up at you which makes you smile widely. Maker, you love his cute little face so much. 
You walk down the bustling street to the bazaar. You have to admit that the changes to the city really are very impressive, you could actually imagine living in a city like this. You start your shopping, a ration run was long overdue anyway and besides the needed basics you find a lot of other things too. A new robe for Grogu, happy to find some small enough to fit him, Maker knows he needs more, you feel like you are constantly washing the few he has. You also find a few things for yourself and you are happy when you find a booth that is selling Din’s favourite brand of nutrition packs, and in his favourite flavour too, not that he has told you that they are his favourites, but it was easy to figure out as they always are the one he picks.
“So, is it melon time now?” You ask, looking down at Grogu after you have paid for the nutrition packs. Grogu is cooing happily as if he understands and you chuckle down at him making your way to one of the fruit stands. 
Karga was right, the meilooruns look perfect, ripe and mouthwatering. You smile at the elderly Twi’lek behind one of the booths, placing Grogu down on the ground before you start picking out the tastiest looking fruits, making polite conversation with the fruit seller while still keeping an eye on little Grogu. You pay for the fruits and the Twi’lek behind the booth hands you the last one. You feel Grogu tuck at your pant leg as he looks up at the fruit in your hand, clearly very interested in the orange-red melon that is almost bigger than his head. You chuckle at him, bending down to let him hold it which makes him let out an excited shriek.      
“Good job!” You coo at the youngling as he proudly holds the big fruit with both hands, waddling over to the basket that you have lowered for him, where he, with a little difficulty but complete determination, lifts the fruit up to join the rest.     
“Aw, what a good boy, helping mama out.” The Twi’lek coos at Grogu. 
Your heart clenches at the woman’s comment and you yearn by the idea of actually being the little green kid’s mother. You smile at the fruit seller and then down at Grogu 
“Yeah, he is the best.” You sigh softly.  
Grogu is looking up at you with those big bright eyes of his, softly babbling before reaching his tiny arms up towards you in a gesture to tell you he wants you to lift him up. You are happy to oblige, picking him up and nuzzling your nose against his little chubby cheek before leaving a soft kiss on the same spot. 
“Well, sweetheart I think that was all.” You tell him with a smile. “Your dad is probably also finishing up with Karga about now.” 
“Why don’t you take some of these too, on the house, for being such a sweet boy.” The Twi’lek says, putting a few pika fruits and some jogans down a brown paper bag.  
“Oh, no, that’s too kind of you.” You try to politely decline the woman's sweet offer but she just shrugs you off. 
“Now, none of that. We like giving gifts here on Nevarro.” She smiles at you as she shakes her head, making her lekku’s swing from side to side, before looking at Grogu. “Why don’t you give these to your father, little one? Proof that you were nice and helpful while out shopping with mom?” She smiles at Grogu who is cooing and making grabby hands at the bag and you can’t say no to him, so you let him take it and thanking the sweet Twi’lek before going out to see if Din is finished at Karga’s. You can’t help but feel at peace here, people have been so sweet and welcoming. 
—      
Karga is pouring himself a glass of spotchka, offering a glass to Din, just like he always does, which Din declines, just like always does. “Hm, so today isn’t the day I’m gonna see your face either.” The older man jokes, lifting his glass to take a sip of the strong beverage. Din only scoffs at the comment. 
“I came to tell that I won’t be able to take any bounties for a while.” 
“Well, I am happy to hear that, Mando. Finally ready to give up that tumultuous life of yours?” Karga says with a big smile on his face. Now this was not the reaction Din had expected, confused by the man’s words.
“I have shown my face. I have to go to Mandalore to seek redemption in the living waters.” Karga’s smile falls as Din tells him this.
“Oh, Mando. Now I had hoped that you had come to tell me that you were ready to come quieten down here in Nevarro City.” 
“I have taken off my helmet, I need to go to Mandalore.” Din tries to explain, but Karga does not seem to see that as a problem, waving a hand in the air as if what Din is telling him isn’t an issue in the slightest, like Din hasn’t broken the most holy of creeds, cutting him off with an unconcern look on his face.
“Well, have you considered not going?” The other man simply states. 
“I am an apostate now.” Din tries again but it still doesn’t seem like an issue to Karga. 
“Isn’t that just all the more reason to stay here. You might be considered an apostate among your people now, but here you will be welcomed with open arms. You could hang up your blaster, settle down and give the kid some stability, maybe even add a new little one to the family, I’m sure that lady of yours would enjoy that.” The older man says with a wink followed by a deep belly laugh before continuing. “Now, I don’t know how ugly that mug of yours is under there.” He says gesturing at Din’s helmet. “But I know that ain’t gonna scare her away, even a qartuum could see that that girl is enamoured with you.”
Din feels his face heat up under the helmet at Karga’s words. “She isn’t my lady.” Din mutters, not able to suppress how deeply he wish that you actually were.   
“Hmm.” Karga hums, not sounding convinced. “If you say so. But, Mando, my friend, I have known you for a long time, since you were a young man and I don’t think I have ever seen you as happy as you are now, with her and the kid. I know you keep insisting that there is nothing going on between you and her, and that might be the truth, but you can’t convince me that you don’t want there to be.”
Din wants to protest, to tell the man that his statement is wrong, but he knows that it would fall for deaf ears, and he would give himself up anyway, Din has also always been a terrible liar. Of course he want’s something between you. His employer has seen right through him, hit the head right on the nail. Din has over the last few months started to come to terms with the fact that he has fallen completely and utterly in love with you. It is scary, completely unknown territory and Din doesn’t now what to do with these feelings he has for you, sure that you don’t feel the same - but, as little as he likes to admit it, a little hope has bloomed in his chest by Karga’s words. ‘Even a qartuum could see that that girl is enamoured with you.’ could that really be true?
 Could you really feel the same for him as he feel for you? No, of course not, Karga is just teasing like he always does, right?  
“I can’t hang up my blaster. It’s not that simple.” He sighs, shaking his helmeted head. 
“But it’s not that complicated either.” Karga says, taking another sip of his spotchka before continuing. “You deserve some happiness, Mando and  I think she can give you that. This is just an old man’s advice and you can do with it as you will, but I hope you believe me when I say that all I want is to see you happy.” He finishes this drink, setting the now emty glass down on the table before pulling out something from the pocket of his extravagant outfit.  
“Now go back to that girl and that Grogu of yours and treat them to a nice dinner, I know how much that kid loves to eat.” He chuckles. “I have a nice prime tract set up, right over by the hot springs. You can spend the night there, I’m sure she will appreciate having somewhere nicer to sleep than that old ship of yours.” Karga says with a smile as he slides enough credits for a nice dinner and then some over the table along with a keychip and a little piece of paper with an address scribbled down. “Think about what I’ve said okay? It’s a nice place and it can be yours if you want it.” He adds, gesturing to the key that Din is now clutching in his gloved hand.
Din simply nods at the man and mumbles a quick ‘thanks’ before leaving. Karga’s words ringing in his head as he makes it down the busy street to the bazaar to find you and Grogu.
—      
The house Karga has lent you is beautiful, which makes perfect sense, the High Magistrate has always struck you as the type of person with an eye for finer things, the makeover the city has gotten is proof of this. You had taken a little tour of the house, not able to stop yourself from fantasising about what it would be like to live in a place like this. It’s nice to pretend even if it’s just for a single night or two, you hope you get a chance to try out the soothing hot spring in the backyard before you have to leave again. It will probably be soon, you know how badly Din itches to travel to Mandalore to redeem himself. The thought making a tight knot form in your stomach, you and Din havent really talked much about it or talked about what was going to happen with you. You don’t even know if you would be allowed to come with him as a non-Mandalorian. Maybe the time you have been dreading so badly finally has come, Din telling you that he no longer needs your services and that he will travel to Mandalore with Grogu and reclaim his creed without you. It makes your little tour of the house feel so much more bitter sweet, the fantasy of the three of you living in a place like this seem stupid and silly.
You can’t help yourself from dragging your feet towards the open door of the room in which Din is currently putting Grogu to bed, watching them from the doorway. You are in complete awe by the sight of Din sweetly tucking Grogu in for the night, placing the warm blanket over the little kid who is placed on the soft bed. The contrast of the two is always a sight. The big brute bounty hunter, clad from head to toe in shiny, intimidating beskar, and the tiny little kid with giant shiny eyes and wobbling ears.
Even though you have known for a while that you love and care deeply for both Din and little Grogu, now as you watch them, you know that the love you have for the both of them is deeper than anything you have ever felt before. You love the little green kid as if he was your own and you have fallen deeply in love with his armour wearing dad. 
Your heart yearns so bad by the sight of them, the love Din has for his little foundling is so bewitching and you find yourself stepping into the room, softly tip-toeing over to the bed, feeling yourself being pulled in like a magnet. Din looks up at you when you reach the bed. His helmet conceals his emotions but he doesn’t seem to mind that you have come over to them. Grogu has already snoozed off, Din pats the empty space of the bed next to him, encouraging you to take a seat which you do. The two of you sit there in silence for a moment looking at Grogu as he sweetly sleeps. You wonder how many more of these small moments you have left with them. You suddenly feel like you might start crying. You sigh as you stand up, stepping over to plant a soft kiss on Grogu’s forehead before turning your gaze to Din, giving the man a weak smile as he rises from the bed too. The two of you quietly stepping out of the room and towards the living area.       
You sit down at the soft sofa, Din sitting down in one of the comfortable arm chairs. A silence falling over you as you both seem to be occupied with your own thoughts. 
After Din had found you and Grogu at the bazaar he had taken you out to one of the nicer places to eat in the city. Fancy, but not too fancy to bring a kid. Din had, of course, not been eating, but you had made sure to get some food back with you to the house that he ate while you were out in the backyard playing with Grogu, giving him privacy to take off his helmet. He might have taken off his helmet that time for Grogu, and now is an apostate for it, but he still follows the creed. 
It had been a good evening, one you wished you would have many more of, but that just seems like wishful thinking, but Din had been very quiet. Not that he has ever been a huge chatterbox or anything, but he had been quiet even for his standards. You can’t help but wonder if something is wrong, now that you also sit in silence here.           
“Din?” 
“Hmm?”
“You are being awfully quiet tonight, anything on your mind?” You ask in a low voice, close to a whisper, feeling a little unsure if you should even ask him this.  
“Oh, Karga just said some things to me. I don’t know, I guess it just made me get stuck in my own thoughts, I’m sorry about that.” He says with a slight shake of his helmet. 
You open your mouth to answer but he continues before you get to say anything.     
“Do… Do you like it here?” His voice is softer than normal and slightly shaky. 
“Here on Nevarro?” You ask a little confused, mirroring his soft tone.
“Yeah, here on Nevarro… Wo-would this be the kind of place you could see yourself live in?”
“If I was living in a house like this? Absolutely!” You grin at him, but Din doesn’t seem to be in on the joke, his shoulders tense as he fidgets with the leather of his gloves.   
“Well, Karga he… he offered it to me, the house here... Well, to us. To uhm, to stay.” He adds. 
Us… Could he mean? Your stomach does a flip until you realise what he means by ‘us’. Him and Grogu, of course, the clan of two. You look over at him, offering him a weak smile as you imagine it for a second, Din and Grogu living in a place like this, the warm blanket of domesticity covering them.  
“That sounds nice.” You say, giving him a little smile. It really would be nice for them to have a quiet life, but you know that it is never going to happen. That isn’t the life of a Mandalorian.
“Yo-you really think so?” He sounds startled and you can’t help but giggle softly at him. 
“Well, yeah, of course. I can imagine you preparing lunches for Grogu in the morning, lots of meriloons for snacks, of course, and then taking him to school.” You say with a playful smile on your lips, remembering Karga’s comment about the new school they had built. “And, all the other kids thinking Grogu has the coolest dad ever with all that beskar.” You laugh softly at your little fantasy. 
“So I would be a cool dad, huh?” He finally chuckles along with you. 
“Oh, yeah. The coolest.” You nod. “How many other parents wield the dark sabre?” You snicker. 
“No one, I guess.” He chuckles again and, kriff, how you love the sound of it.
“Oh, and you would bake for all of the bake sales, obviously!” 
“Pff, of course, I would!” He plays along. “I would bake all the pika cakes needed. Hell, the little one gets them for free.” He says, nodding his head in the direction of the kitchen where the bag with the fruits Grogu was gifted at the market lies. “But you would have to help me taste test them, make sure that we come with the best cakes. Can’t lose my cool dad status because I’m being outshined by another parent with better baking skills.” 
Wait is he saying that you would be there too, in this hypothetical scenario?! 
“Would I?” Your tone has lost all the playfulness from before, now low and unsure but also hopeful. 
He stiffens, shoulders getting tense again. “Wouldn’t you?” His voice is now soft and a little shaky through the modulator.
You can’t believe the direction the conversation has taken. “I guess I would if you want me to.” You confess. 
“I do. I really want you to.” He whispers your name. The visor of his helmet trained on you and you know that he is looking directly into your eyes.  “I would want that. I never thought I could have that, but with you… With you and Grogu, that is all I want.”
“Din I…” You feel how warm tears are slowly falling down your cheeks now. “I want that too. I want you.” You get up from the sofa and he rises from his chair, the two of you slowly approaching each other until you stand with only a few inches between you. 
“I don’t want to go to Mandalore, not anymore.” He whispers. “I don’t…” He takes a shaky breath, like he is getting ready to tell an earth-shattering secret. “I don’t mind being an apostate.”  
“Din are you sure you don’t want to go..?” You can’t believe his words. You are happy, of course you are, but this is his creed, his life, his whole identity. You need him to be sure.
He doesn’t answer you, just standing still in front of you, like a statue. You start to think that he might have regretted telling you this, that he is realising that he does want to go to Mandalore and that he just got caught in the moment for a second, but then he moves. It is like everything is going in slow motion, it takes you a second to realise what he is doing as he brings his hands up to the side of his helmet, a loud hiss sounding through the room before he removes the beskar from his head.
A little gasp escapes your mouth as you take in the sight of his unhelmed face. You are met by a pair of the most beautiful eyes you have ever seen, tender and bright, like the twin suns on the planet you grew up on. His hair, that is slightly mussed from the helmet, is a deep brown which matches the colour of his eyes. Dark stubbles are adorning his jaw and a trimmed moustache is framing his upper lip and you notice how soft, how kissable they look. There is no doubt in your heart as you stare into the his eyes, this is the man you love, reaching your hand out to softly cup his cheek, making sure to not make contact with his skin until he lean against your hand himself, not wanting to overwhelm him if he isn’t ready for your touch yet, but he does lean in, letting out a little gasp as your palm gently cups his cheek.   
“Hi.” You whisper, finally breaking the silence.
“Hi.” He echoes as your palm rests against his bare skin, fingers slowly brushing over the stubbles of his cheek. A faint, sheepish smile on his lips and a slightly unsure look in his eyes, clearly not used to being looked at and not knowing how to react to your gaze without his helmet. He has nothing to be shy about though. He is so gorgeous and you are gonna let him now. 
“Din, you are beautiful.”    
He doesn’t answer, still taken in the feeling of being touched without the armour. You let him take all the time that he needs and a little while goes by before he finally breaks the silence.
“I kind of want to kiss you, cyar’ika.” He confesses, voice barely more than a whisper.    
“You can.” You tell him your voice is soft, a mellow smile on your lips as you stare into the deep umber of his eyes. He nods slightly, giving himself a moment to let the idea of finally being able to kiss you sink in, you don’t rush him, letting him do it in his own tempo.
“I-I’ve never kissed anyone before.” The words are coming out soft and shaky, almost apologetic, as he confesses this to you. It doesn’t surprise you, it must be incredibly nerve wracking for him, after so many years behind the helmet, standing bare and exposed in front of another human being. It makes sense that he never has kissed anyone before considering the creed he has lived by. You can’t help but feel a little giddy by the idea of being the one to give him his first kiss, a soft and loving gift he can carry with him forever.   
“Din, that’s okay.” You reassure him before adding with a slightly cheeky grin. “It’s not like I mind teaching you.” This makes him smile too, letting out a low sound, the ghost of a laugh, you have heard that sound before but never without the modulator of his helmet and you feel your heart flutter warmly. 
“I’m glad you don’t.” He whispers gratefully as he begins to lean in closer until your lips meet in a soft, sweet kiss. His hands moves up to cradle your face, gently cupping your cheeks with his broad hands. You hum content into the kiss, your lips moving slowly in sync, a part of you wants to deepen the kiss letting your tongue explore his mouth but you hold yourself back, this will hopefully be the first kiss of many and you want this one to be sweet and soft and not overwhelm him. 
You finally have to pull away to catch your breath, finding those beautiful eyes of his that you have already fallen completely for. 
“I love you.” You whisper into the quietness and he smiles at you, the prettiest smile in the galaxy, before leaning in to capture your lips in another kiss. 
“I love you too.” He mutters against your lips. “I have for a while.” 
You let out a choked gasp, not believing that this is really happening, that Din really loves you too.
“I think I’m ready for something new.” He tells you softly, placing a sweet kiss on the top of your head before resting his forehead against yours. “A new beginning right here with you.” 
“That sounds good.” You smile. “But I think you might have to kiss me again, as your official taste tester I need another sample.” 
He lets out a low laugh before kissing you again. A kiss that tastes like the beginning of something beautiful. 
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bby-deerling · 5 months
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i'm sorry, women (platonic sanji & zoro's partner!reader)
yes this is based on that scene from diary of a wimpy kid, no i'm not sorry. part of my lil' zoro x reader cinematic universe, but as always can be read as a standalone
suggestive, 18+, mdni, wc: 1.1k masterlist
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It was a beautiful morning, bright blue sky untouched by clouds and sun high in the air—a perfect day, in your eyes, for you and Zoro to take care of some laundry.  You take care of your own garments first, scrubbing them thoroughly in the soapy water before rinsing them and carefully hanging them up on the clothesline.  Feeling footsteps approaching, you tilt your head upwards to be met with a familiar blonde mop of hair.
“Hey, Sanji!  Thanks for the extra bacon at breakfast!” you chirp as you start on Zoro’s clothes pile, dunking a pair of his sweatpants under the layer of suds.
“Always my pleasure, sunshine.” he says, carefully blowing his cigarette smoke out of one side of his mouth to avoid directing it towards you or your freshly hung clothes.  You pull Zoro’s pants out of the washing tub and rinse them off, but pause when you notice the frown on the cook’s face.
“What’s up, blondie?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at him and tilting your head.
“Nothing.  It’s just that you’re too good to be doing a man’s laundry for him.” he says, motioning to the pair of sopping wet pants in your hands.
You let out a sigh, setting them down and crossing your arms.  “He’s going to help me soon; he’s just finishing up his workout.” 
“Sweetheart, I’m not going to sit here and watch you wait around for him all day until those bubbles are all popped.” he says, the look in his eye dancing somewhere between disappointment and pity.
“Quit worrying so much about what I’m doing—he promised to help me, and he will.” you snap back, picking the pair of pants back up and wringing them out before hanging them up on the clothesline.
You expect him to leave you be to get started on preparations for lunch, but Sanji simply stares you down with an incredulous look in his eyes until you grumble and make your way towards the Observation Tower to go collect Zoro.
Poking your head out of the trap door in the floor, you take a moment to soak in the delicious sight of a shirtless Zoro training his back before speaking up.
“I’m ready for your help with the laundry, no rush though!”  you say with a smile.  Despite Sanji’s scathing disapproval, you really didn’t mind picking up a chore for Zoro here or there; what you were really after was spending time with him, whether it was finishing the laundry together out on the deck or keeping him company while he trained.
He lets out a grunt as he lets his weight fall to the floor.  “Lost track of time.  I’m almost finished up here, I’ll be right down, promise.” he says, stretching his arms above his head and rolling his shoulders.
“Mind if I stay and watch?” you ask, propping your head up with your elbows and staring up at him with eager eyes.  He grins back at you, running his hand through his hair and wiping his sweat away with the towel around his neck.
“As much as I’d love that, I actually need you to do something for me.” he says.  “I’ve got a couple shirts in my dresser that I forgot to put in the dirty pile, you’ll know which ones.  Mind getting them for me?”
“Sure thing!” you say as you nod, knowing exactly which clean-up shirts he was talking about, and making a mental note to also wash all the shirts that had come into contact with them.  Descending the ladder and making a bee-line towards the men’s quarters, you hum one of your favorite tunes under your breath as you pull open Zoro’s dresser drawer, only for your jaw to drop and mind to go blank as your eyes drifted to Sanji’s bed.
Sanji’s sheets were absolutely littered with dirty magazines, naked women on the covers performing acts ranging anywhere from femdom to being tied up in bondage.  Grabbing Zoro’s shirts, you intend to bring them outside and add them to the pile of clothes to wash, but you find yourself frozen and slack-jawed at the sheer brazenness of him keeping this in a shared place—a place where poor Chopper could potentially see them and be scarred for life.
“Forgot about those.  Stupid pervert can’t even bother hide them well.”  Zoro says as he enters the room and notices your shock, annoyed at Sanji’s inability to be normal towards women, or discreet about his more devious tastes.
Lost in thought and still frozen, you take a moment to process the situation before a wicked grin spreads across your face.
“I’m gonna mess with him.” you say decisively, grabbing one of Sanji’s ties and using it as a barrier to pick up one of the more filthy shibari magazines and taking it out to the deck.  Zoro follows close behind you, a devious smirk pulling at his lips.
“Get out here blondie!” you shout, still red in the face from witnessing the sheer obscenity of the cook's taste in X-rated material.  As you wait for him to shuffle out of the kitchen, you take another quick glance at the cover of the magazine and cringe.
“You called?  Did you want something to snack on—” he starts, before turning pale as a ghost when you hold the magazine in his face.
“Found this when grabbing some of Zoro’s shirts.  Why am I not surprised that the so-called gentleman has all this dehumanizing filth spread on his bed for anyone to see?”
“It’s a high art form, dear.” he says, a visible bead of sweat running down his face as Robin giggles behind her hand, enjoying the show from her reclining chair.
“You can call it whatever you want, cook, but it looks like porn to me, and hardcore at that.” she says, amused. 
Sanji’s cigarette snaps in half between his teeth, turning back towards you.  “Men have certain urges, sunshine.” he says defensively, trying in vain to pull some smoke through the severed cigarette, eyes turning towards Zoro, implying he would understand what he was trying to say.
Zoro lets out a deep chuckle, greatly enjoying the torture session unfolding before him.  “Don’t look at me like that, pervert.  You know you’re not getting any help from me.”
“Do you have anything you want to say to women for having owned this type of magazine?” you say, not willing to let him go just yet.
“I’m sorry, women…” he mumbles, face pink and head hanging low as he stared at the ground.
Satisfied, you take the magazine into the kitchen and toss it in the trash can before returning to the wash tub to finish the laundry.
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skyeslittlecorner · 1 month
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Sorry if you're neck deep in kiddie headcanons but it's too cute to pass up. Like we already got kings, but I need to see kiddie nobles. Mainly Hades because I'm weak. Making sure little Barbatos doesn't take off all of his clothes and throw them everywhere, having to chase down lil Glasy because he's trying to prank others into fight each other, or running around with scissors. And unintentional hide and seek with Foras because poor baby can't control his invisibility, and you're panicking because you think you lost him but in reality he's with you the entire time...maybe have to put a bell on him to know where he is.
AHHH THIS! I love it so much! The little ones from Hades are so chaotic and completely unintentional (apart from Glasyal, he is very intentional). But I bet Levi is a great father, after all, the whole country treats him like one.
The big brain of yours is truly amazing, from today I'm starting a kindergarten, goodbye romance interests, you are too cute as children- Just look at them!
Gehenna
All the little ones have gathered of their own in the living room, where Satan sits cross-legged in the middle of the fluffy carpet and fights with them. He's dishing out punches one after the other. Strong enough to push the kids away, but not to actually hurt them. You don't think he's ever had so much fun with his nobles! He decreed that he would be the evil king one who kidnapped the Descendant of Solomon, and now you sit on his lap while he fends off the little nobles.
Leraye and Paimon excel at scheming, having the most fun when they manage to hang onto Satan's biceps, and he tries to shake them off. Belial was smarter. He taught Jiyu how to make paper bullets and shot Satan with a slingshot, but all the bullets got stuck in his fluffy hair, so you pulled them out regularly.
Sitri is not so bold. At first, he sat huddled in the corner of the room, covering his ears with his hands. You made an exception for him and took him on your lap. The noise suddenly stops bothering him as he cuddles into your chest and leers smugly at the others. Little smartass.
The kids launching an attack quickly get tired. Only when they were scattered on the couches, snoring loudly, did Astaroth pull Zagan towards you. He put markers in your hands and demanded you to draw (or pet his little snake, as you wish). Of course, you didn't resist them, although instead of using a piece of paper, you started drawing on Satan's cheek. This couldn't end well, right? You were pinned to the floor. Who knows what happened next, because Astaroth covered Zagan's eyes, and Satan immediately threw you over his shoulder and took you to the bedroom. Kids had theit fun, now time for you.
Tartaros
You have never met such sweet and problem-free children in your life. You can take them wherever you want, to the palace, for a walk, shopping, they will always come back to you and won't go crazy like some do. Just shower them with love. Especially Eligos, who would like to stick to you and not move, just purring when you pet him and kiss him. He wrapped himself in all the ribbons he had - you had to help him with that so he wouldn't choke or trip - and now he's running from devil to devil because everyone wants to pet him. He is the total center of attention.
Bimet would love to count money, but he is so small that he doesn't really know how to count, so you have some piggy banks with you. He usually gets lost halfway through, but you managed to convince him that this means they are just bottomless and that he is infinitely rich. At first, he didn't trust you (or rather he looked at you in happy shock, because devils cannot doubt), but since Mammon supported you, he has no questions. Especially since the king gave him a basket in which to collect his own wealth, so he follows Eligos to the devils and demands payment for petting him. 
Valefor is like an older brother who takes care of them, and it is mainly thanks to him that your walk is so peaceful and pleasant. If Eli flies too far, he will bring him back by the hand. If he falls, he will pet him, calm him down and bring you to kiss his scratched leg so that it doesn't hurt. If Bimet loses a gem or two from his basket, he will show him to pick it up. He keeps turning to you and Mammon to make sure you haven't gone too far. When you praised him for being as brave and responsible as his king, he grew happy and took even better care of the boys. Mammon is really proud of them, and you can see it in his smile. You are too.
Hades
You’re left alone when the king is occupied with work. Do you think it won't be easy? You're absolutely right. Of the three in your care, Glasyal is the nicest. And it's not because he wants to, he's just having fun as he follows you around and watches you struggle with the other two.
Even though Foras is invisible, Barbatos also constantly disappears from your sight. Look for windows where he can bask in the sun. Of course, the fewer clothes he wears, the more fun he got. Once you put him in a corset so he couldn't untangle himself, but Glasyal came with scissors. They almost gouged out their eyes. It was only when you put him in Leviathan's clothes that he stopped shedding them so much and instead cuddled up to them.
Foras is a problem because he isn’t. Literally. You can't see him, amen. He doesn't do it on purpose, but he has no control over his power. Will he be scared? Disappears. Sneezes? Disappears. Will he quarrel with Glasyal? Disappears. Glasyal especially liked the third one, and it brought the little pink devil to tears.
You were getting exhausted, but then the nooses around the kids' necks twitched like leashes being pulled by their owner. The father is coming.
"Enough. Be good." He will admonish them, but with a little smile wandering his lips. All the children will crawl towards him with complete adoration. This time they will hang in the air, not on nooses, but one by one having the honor of being held in their father's arms. Just take those scissors from Glasyal, really.
Avisos
Even though you expected this to be the most chaotic experience of your life, it wasn't that bad at all.
One child drops out because he sleeps. Bael, of course. When you picked him up from the desk, he's been sleeping for about four hours now, snoring loudly and nothing can wake him up. And you tried. Especially Amon, who first poked Bael in the cheek and waited for him to react, but when nothing happened, he just curled up next to him, because why not?, and went to sleep together.
You went to the bathroom for a moment and when you came back, Nabe was also lying in a pile. Also dragged to sleep by Amon, as you saw them holding hands. Stolas was the only one left, so you brought him, however, was a bit more reluctant and really wanted to go to Bathin, so you had to convince him. You took three chairs and threw a blanket over them to build him a fort, and in that fort, a nest. Only then did he settle down there contently.
Of course, Amon didn't miss anything, because he's conscious when he sleeps. He got out of bed and crawled to Stolas' nest. It looked (and was!) much more comfy. Stolas first shouted at him and tried to kick him out, but Amon lay there like a log. This little bird finally got tired and fell asleep too. You put all four of them in the fort, climbed in, grabbed a book and let them cuddle.
Beelzebub, who felt that something was wrong and decided to check on you, burst out laughing when he saw you with the kids. You dragged him along as punishment. Of course, he had priority over you. You laid on Beel and the kids clinged to both of you. When he saw them like this, it brought back memories. You'll learn a little about how he met each of the nobles and what his own childhood was like, as he tell stories and pet each child he talks about.
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bornonthesavage · 1 year
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Steve Harrington was in a rut. That’s all this was. Ever since he’d split with Nancy, everything had seemed to blend together into one dreary day after another. It didn’t help that he was, effectively, alone. Sure, he had a gaggle of middle schoolers who he sometimes drove around or hosted at his big empty house, but it seemed a bit pathetic to call them his friends. Maybe Dustin was. But other than that, he had no one. And as January bled into February, that fact was becoming increasingly depressing.
At school he sat alone, tucked away into a far corner of the cafeteria where he could go easily unnoticed. He sometimes caught sight of Nancy as she walked with Jonathon, probably to go eat in the library or outside. Which sucked. But he was fine. He was. It was just… he needed a distraction. Something to take his mind off it. So far, he’d come up with nothing.
When there weren’t interdimensional beings crawling through the walls, the sad truth was that Hawkins was unbearably boring. Not much in the way of distractions, between the same old people he’d known his whole life and the nonexistent party scene. Well, there were parties. None that he had any interest in attending. Not anymore.
And he’d tried dating. Because despite the fact he was no longer King, he was still Steve Harrington. Plenty of girls were interested in getting the whole experience. Or maybe they just wanted to snag a good-looking rich boy. Either way, it didn’t matter to Steve. The only problem was that not one of the girls he’d gone out with had done anything to ebb this constantly growing boredom. It had only been two months since he’d jumped back into the dating scene, and he’d been on nine separate dates. Every single one was a failure.
So maybe he’d take a break from that. It was probably just too soon. He’d felt ready, but maybe he was wrong. That still did nothing to provide an adequate distraction. He could always try and find new friends. But that begged the question. Where could an eighteen-year-old guy find friends around his age in a school full of dickheads? It was a conundrum.
Steve slipped out of the cafeteria early, eager to get to his locker before the rest of the student population descended upon the halls. Which, maybe avoiding every other person within his age group seemed counterintuitive. But he’d met most of them, and for the most part, he had no interest in being friends with any of them. Maybe he could branch out. Look into some of the social circles he’d yet to dip his toe into. The drama kids didn’t seem too bad. Maybe a little dramatic, but that was the point. Or hell, even some of the band kids seemed kind of cool. He could always—
His inner dialog was interrupted when his shoulder came into contact with another student who had been walking in the opposite direction. A student who had been deeply engrossed in the papers he’d been reading, too distracted to notice Steve approaching. Which, to be fair, Steve had been too distracted to notice him as well. As their shoulders slammed together, papers and notebooks rained from the other student arms, sliding across the linoleum floors.
“Jesus Christ! Seriously? I wasn’t even—” The other student looked up, and Steve immediately recognized him as one Eddie Munson. The school freak and drug dealer. Eddie stopped as soon as he saw Steve, his face shuttering for a second before morphing into a scowl. Before Steve could formulate a response, Eddie scoffed and rolled his eyes, then dropped to his knees to begin collecting his papers. He heard him mutter “Figures,” under his breath.
Steve could take a wild guess at what that meant. He didn’t remember ever doing anything personally to Munson, but he’d definitely never done anything to stop his ex-friends from bullying him. Which was pretty much as bad. But he wasn’t that person anymore, and he was determined to prove that.
He dropped down beside Eddie and began to slide some of the notebooks that had made it to his side of the hall closer. He’d only managed to grab a couple when Eddie’s voice stopped him.
“Harrington, what are you doing?” His tone was sharp and cautious, as though sure this was some type of trick. Which, yeah, Steve sort of deserved that.
Steve held up one of the papers, which looked like a history exam. “Helping pick up the stuff I made you drop. What does it look like?”
Eddie just blinked at him. “Why?”
“Uh, I don’t understand the question. Why wouldn’t I?”
But Eddie was shaking his head. “So, what? You shoulder check me, make me drop all my shit, and then pick it up? Is this some new type of jock power play?”
Oh. Eddie thought he’d done it on purpose. Well, that sucked. Probably said a lot about what most of the school population thought of him. Why would anyone want to be his friend when they all thought he was a huge asshole? Steve swallowed and ducked his head to hide his hurt expression. It wasn’t Eddie’s problem.
“No, um, sorry. I didn’t run into you on purpose. I just wasn’t looking where I was going. So, sorry about that.”
The frown slid off Eddie’s face, replaced with a mixture of confusion and mistrust. “Really? King Steve, apologizing to little old me? I never thought I’d see the day.”
Steve snorted and shook his head. “Dude, I’m not a King anymore. Can’t be, when I don’t have any friends. Or hadn’t you noticed?”
Eddie hummed. “Yeah, I thought I saw Hargrove sitting on your throne, surrounded by the little lap dogs. Surprised you haven’t tried to take it back.”
“Nah,” Steve said with a shrug. “I gave that shit up on purpose. I don’t want it anymore.”
He continued to scoop up papers and notebooks, doing his best to straighten them out, while Eddie continued to stare. It was slightly unnerving.
“Why not? It seemed like it must have been pretty nice at the top.”
Steve shrugged, not making eye contact. “It was, for a while. But then someone opened my eyes to what… to what bullshit it all was. Once it was seen, it couldn’t be unseen. So, I think I’ll be happy hanging out at the bottom for a little while.”
When he finally looked up and met Eddie’s eye once more, the other boy was staring open mouthed. As if he were seeing something he couldn’t quite believe. It made Steve self-conscious, like maybe he’d revealed a little bit too much of himself. He cleared his throat.
“I really am sorry for running into you.”
Eddie blinked a few times, then shook his head. “Uh, no, it’s fine. Accidents happen. Or at least that’s what my uncle told me three times a day growing up. I was a chaotic kid. Knocked lots of stuff over.”
Steve chuckled. “That was nice of him. Kids should be allowed to make mistakes without it seeming like the world is ending.”
He handed off the papers he’d collected, then scooped up the last folder. It fell open in his hand, and he caught a glimpse of the book inside. “Oh, Dungeons and Dragons! You play?”
Eddie’s eyes looked like they were about to fall out of his head. “You… You know what Dungeons and Dragons is?”
“Yeah. Well, I mean, the kids I babysit play it. They never shut up about it, actually, so it would be kind of difficult for me to not know about. It’s got like, Demogorgon’s and Mind Flayers and shit, right?”
Rather than answer, Eddie made a choked off sort of noise in the back of his throat, as if he wasn’t getting enough air. Steve raised a hand to rest on his shoulder.
“Hey, man, you okay?”
That seemed to jolt Eddie out of whatever fit he was having, as he suddenly bolted upright into a standing position. “No, yeah, I’m good. Totally cool. Super cool. Look at me. When have I ever not been cool?”
Steve straightened up and raised an eyebrow, letting a smile grow on his face. “Yeah, totally. You seem really chill.”
That earned him a glare, though it looked like Eddie was also fighting a grin, which made Steve laughed. “Don’t mock me Harrington, or I’ll deduct all the points you’ve earned over the last couple minutes.”
“Oh, well we wouldn’t want that, would we?”
He handed back the folder, which Eddie snatched back. “You’re sort of a bitch, you know that?”
“Yeah, duh. I can’t go losing all my charm now, can I?”
“Charm, he says,” Eddie muttered. “Just watch where you’re going next time, alright Harrington? Not all of our beloved peers will be as benevolent as I.”
“Not sure what benevolent means, but yeah, I’ll do my best.”
He flashed one more grin, which Eddie seemed to take in with a sort of dazed stare. Without another word, the other boy spun around and continued on his way in the other direction. That was when Steve noticed the black bandana that must have fallen out of his pocket. He picked it up and was about to call after him when the bell rang shrilly overhead. Almost immediately, the halls began to fill with students.
Steve looked down at the black square of cloth. It was nothing special, but he was pretty sure he’d seen it hanging off the metalhead a few times. Maybe it had sentimental value. Well, he would just have to find a time to return it. After all, hadn’t he just been thinking that he needed something interesting to distract him? A new friend to take his mind off everything? Huh. Maybe Eddie Munson was exactly what he’d been looking for.
Part 2
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Eddie Munson's second chance
Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 14
Prompt: Angst with a happy ending
Rated: G
CW: referenced child neglect/abuse
Tags: Modern AU, Royalty AU, Royal Steve Harrington, Rockstar Eddie Munson
Notes: Continued from day 11. This was angstier in my head, but Eddie is a silly goose.
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Eddie Munson is no stranger to fucking up. He's long accepted that. It's just a thing that happens.
Sometimes, you'll miscalculate a stage dive and have to cancel the rest of the tour. 
Sometimes, you'll get so caught up in your stupid rockstar stuff, you'll forget about the youth center you founded to give other kids a better childhood. 
Sometimes, you'll meet an adorable guy named Dustin at said youth center, and rant about how useless the monarchy is, only to find out that Dustin isn't Dustin at all, but Crown Prince Steven Harrington, aka the future king, aka owner of the saddest pair of puppy dog eyes that Eddie has ever failed to get out of his goddamn head. 
Which brings him to his current predicament, sitting on the edge of his bed, waiting for Chrissy to pick up the phone. She does after the second dial tone, which is pretty impressive for three in the morning. 
"We must cancel the royal visit," Eddie blurts before she can ask what's wrong. 
"Eds," she yawns. "We've been over this. Just because you can't stand the guy-" 
"That's not it," Eddie groans. "Listen … I met him yesterday? Only I didn't know it was him? And I flirted with him and he was really cute but I couldn't keep my fucking mouth shut and now I can't ever see him again because I don't wanna rot in some dungeon, understand?" 
"No," she says. Damn, it sounded perfectly logical in his head. "But this doesn't seem like something we should discuss on the phone. Stay put, I'm coming over." 
*
They don't cancel the royal visit, but Eddie refuses to make an appearance. Instead, he watches from behind the curtains of the office window like a creep. The Prince looks dashing in his tailored suit, smiling for the cameras, joking with the kids, listening to Chrissy with polite attention as she shows him around the place. Eddie loves her so fucking much, will be forever grateful that she filled in for him. 
Even if she tied it to one condition. 
He watches how she whispers something into the Prince's ear, how his smile melts into an angry frown. How they both turn to stare at the window. Eddie flinches away from the curtains, heart in his throat. 
He wonders if the dungeons have WiFi. 
*
"You have exactly ten minutes," says the bodyguard. It’s the same one from yesterday, the one called Hop. Eddie doesn’t reply, just nods stiffly. Hop looks at him like he's contemplating murder, but then he ducks out of the room with a muttered all clear.
Prince Steven steps in. The door clicks shut. Silence descends. 
"Well," Eddie finally mumbles. "I guess this is the part where I bow and grovel." 
The Prince snorts. "Please don't, Mr Munson. I'd rather you save us both the embarrassment."
Eddie winces, because ouch. That stings more than it should. 
Neither of them says anything for a long while. The clock on the wall keeps ticking. 
"So," Eddie rocks awkwardly on the soles of his combat boots. "Who's Dustin?" 
Those plush lips twitch into a smile and those pretty eyes light up. For a moment, Eddie glimpses the boy from yesterday. 
"My housekeeper's kid. He'd be so mad if he knew I met you and didn't get him an autograph." 
He says it with genuine concern, like he's honestly afraid of getting shit from a little kid, and Eddie can't help but grin. 
"Don't worry, I won't tell." 
This gets him a huffed laugh. 
"He'd love this place, it's really cool." 
When Eddie looks up, the Prince is looking at the picture frames on the walls, photos of smiling kids and drawings in crayon and watercolors. Eddie sighs and joins him, stares long and hard of a picture of Max on her skateboard. 
"Thanks. I, um … grew up around here, and I wanted to give these kids a safe space. Where they can just … be children. I never really had that myself." 
A thoughtful hum. Those hazel eyes are soft with an expression that looks weirdly like longing. Eddie remembers watching stories about the royal family on his uncle's rickety TV set. A solemn-faced boy his own age trailing behind his parents outside of private jets, in lush parks and gilded halls. Always in expensive suits. Always well-behaved. Always way too grown-up.
Well, shit. 
"Listen, your highness …" 
"Steve is fine." 
"Listen, Steve …" Eddie lets the name linger on his tongue, finds that he likes the feel of it. "I guess I've been a bit of a dick." 
A hint of that bitchy little smile. "You guess correctly." 
"Whatever," Eddie huffs. "I'm trying to apologize here, so may I? Or are you throwing me in the dungeons?" 
"The …" Steve blinks. Then, his mouth starts to curl. "We, um … don't actually do that anymore. Unless you're into that, then I'm sure it could be arranged." 
Eddie sputters and Steve bites back a laugh. 
"If you really wanna make up for it," he then says. "I hear your concert next week is all sold out? Dustin would love backstage tickets." 
Eddie frowns. 
"Dustin as in the kid or …" 
"Steve?" Hop cracks the door open. "Time to go, c'mon." 
Steve smiles, bright and sunshiny. "On my way." 
He turns to Eddie, grabs a pen and a notepad from the chaos on the desk.
"Backstage tickets, two of them. I'll be expecting them by tomorrow." 
*
When Chrissy bustles in not five minutes later, she finds Eddie in the office chair, staring morosely at the still drawn curtains. 
"Eds? Everything okay?" Eddie just groans and hides his head in his hands, so she crouches down in front of him, hands on his knees. "He didn't give you shit, did he?" 
"Shit? I wish. No, it's far worse than that." Eddie cackles hysterically and unclenches his fist, presenting a crumpled piece of notebook paper. "He gave me his number." 
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Part 3
All my holiday drabbles
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