#idea from a conversation me and milo had

[vivwritesfics]

Hooked On A Feeling

Chapter Ten - Milo's Hot Momma

Daniel is a Formula One driver, but, more importantly, he was a single dad to a wonderful little girl. He wants her to be a normal little girl, to have a normal social life, so he sends her to daycare. That was where she met Milo, her future best friend.

Milo's mother was incredibly stressed. She worked so hard to provide a good life for her son. But then he makes a new friend, a friend who has a hot dad (ofc they fall in love)

1.8K

Single Dad!Daniel x Single Mum!Reader

Series Masterlist

It was a relief when Milo climbed back into his mother's lap before they began their descent. She sat in her own seat and allowed Milo to take his place in her lap as Olivia sat opposite them. She was a big girl; she didn't need her daddy.

"The tattoos," Y/N began as she held Milo. "I feel like you've got them to appear all terrifying and intimidating, but you're secretly a loser," she said to Daniel.

"A loser?" He asked, but he was unable to contain his smile.

Y/N laughed, her chest shaking slightly. "Don't worry, Danny. All the best people are."

"Are you a loser?" Daniel couldn't stop himself from asking. When Y/N nodded her head, he decided he didn't mind being a loser.

***

"Keep a hold of my hand, Munchkin," said Y/N as she and Milo entered the paddock.

Milo began skipping as he walked beside his mother. "Do you think we'll get to meet any of the drivers, Momma?" He asked as they walked forward.

Y/N truly didn't know. Daniel had gotten to the circuit much before they had and she had no idea where they were meant to be going. There must be somebody she could ask.

Everybody was far too busy. Every time she approached someone they hurried away, unaware that she and Milo were even there, asking for help.

Finally, she found a man in a navy blue shirt with RED BULL printed on the back of it. Red Bull, that was Daniels old team, she recognised. "Come on, Munchkin," she said and placed Milo on her hip.

She kept a tight hold of him as they walked towards the man with the short blonde hair and blue eyes. "Excuse me," Y/N said before the man had the chance to walk away. The man turned, wearing an ever so kind smile on his face. "Could you help me? We're trying to find the AlphaTauri garage and we're a little lost."

"Of course," the guy said and pointed them in the right direction. He began walking, falling into step beside Y/N as he took her towards where she needed to go. "Are you an AlphaTauri fan?" He asked, noticing the hat on Milo's head.

"I am!" Milo answered and wriggled out of his mother's grip. She put him down and grasped his hand.

Y/N straightened up his hat on his head. "We're friends with Daniel Ricciardo," she answered. "Do you work in Formula One?"

Max couldn't stop himself from laughing at that. "You're not a Formula One fan, are you?" He asked. When she shook her head signalling no, he held out his hand. "I'm Max, I drive for Red Bull," he said.

"Oh!" Y/N suddenly cried. "Your team won last time, didn't you? Congratulations!'

"Thanks," Max said, somewhat bashful. "You said you're friends with Daniel?"

"Our kids are friends from daycare," she answered.

They chatted idly as Max led them to them to the AlphaTauri garage. The conversation was easy, enjoyable, friendly. Milo was happy to talk to Max, tell him everything he had learnt about Formula One so far (most of which Olivia had taught him).

At the AlphaTauri garage, Max left them there. He waved them a goodbye and disappeared, making his way back to the Red Bull garage.

Even though they were now where they were supposed to be, Y/N was lost. "Where do you think we go now, Milo?" She asked, not quite expecting an answer.

But she did get an answer, just not from Milo. "MILO!" Came a loud, familiar voice. Suddenly Olivia was running towards them. She quickly threw her arms around Milo, knocking his hat off in the process.

Her father walked up behind her, greeting Y/N in a much calmer way than Olivia greeted Milo. He still wrapped his arms around her and squeezed, just not as aggressively as Olivia did Milo.

Pulling away, Daniel picked the hat up from the floor and placed it on Milo's head. "Hey Loser," Y/N couldn't stop herself from saying as he pulled the hat down.

"Hey Loser," he mimicked like a parrot. Olivia pulled away from Milo and returned to her fathers side, a proud smile on her face. "We were beginning to think you weren't going to make it," Daniel said as he placed his hands on her head, messing up his neat braids. "And Olivia wanted to introduce Milo to everybody."

That didn't surprise Y/N one bit. "Milo would love to be introduced to all of Livvy's uncles," she said.

Suddenly Olivia grabbed a hold of Milo's hand. She pulled him away, running back through the paddock. "Milo!" Y/N shouted, trying to reach for her son.

"Livvy!" Daniel shouted at the same time as he attempted to grab her, but she was already gone, already taking off down the paddock.

Y/N looked at Daniel. Daniel looked at Y/N. "Shit," they both said and took off, following their children down the paddock.

The first place Olivia wanted Milo to see was the Red Bull garage. "You need to meet my uncle Max, uncle Christian and my uncle Checo," she said as she pulled him around the RB20 with the number 1 on it.

Rather abruptly, Olivia was no longer holding Milo's hand. She was no longer on the ground, instead hoisted into somebodies arms. "Livvy!" The familiar man cried as he held Olivia on his hip.

"Uncle Maxy!" She screamed as she wrapped her arms around him.

At first Max didn't recognise the little boy Olivia was dragging around the paddock. He hadn't learnt his name, but he still recognised him from the AlphaTauri hat on his head. "Who's your friend?" He still asked her.

"This is Milo," she said. "He's my best friend from daycare."

Suddenly Y/N and Daniel were behind them. "Milo!" Y/N shouted, her voice scolding as she picked him up. "Don't you ever run away like that again! You scared me half to death!"

Daniel took Olivia from Max's hands. "What were you thinking, Badger? You know you can't just run off like that," he said, his voice a lot calmer than hers.

Blushing red, Olivia tucked her face in against Daniels chest. "Daddy you're embarrassing me in front of uncle Maxy," she muttered.

"If you're gonna take Milo around the paddock, you need to make sure you have me or his momma with you, okay?"

"Okay," she replied quietly and Daniel placed Olivia back on the ground.

He watched as she walked back to her Uncle Max, who took her and Milo's hands and walked them further into the garage. Daniel checked the watch on his wrist. "Listen, I've got to go and get ready for free practice. Think you can get the kids back to the garage in twenty minutes?" He asked.

"Definitely," Y/N said as she checked the time on her phone.

Daniel kissed her cheek before he took off. Goddamn, she was never going to wash that cheek again.

***

On Saturday it was a little easy to navigate the paddock. Y/N and Milo found themselves in the AlphaTauri garage with Daniel, Olivia, and Daniels teammate, Yuki.

Olivia and Milo were passionately defending McDonalds to Yuki. He was acting as babysitter while Daniel took Y/N into his drivers room. "I'm pretty sure I have an AlphaTauri shirt somewhere in here," he said as he went through the little wardrobe he had in his drivers room.

At last, he found one. "Aha," he said, wearing a grin as he pulled it from his wardrobe and passed it to her.

She took it gratefully. "Well, turn around then," she said, her smile somewhat daring. Daniel made a big show of shutting his eyes and turning around so that Y/N could get changed into his AlphaTauri shirt. "There," she said and Daniel turned around.

He placed his arm over her shoulders and walked her out of the drivers room, back to where the kids were still talking to Yuki. It was impressive enough that Yuki had managed to keep the swearing to a minimum, but Daniel supposed he'd had enough practice in front of Olivia after the last year of them being teammates.

"Now everybody knows who the hot single momma is supporting," he said as they joined his teammate.

This didn't go unnoticed by anybody in the AlphaTauri garage. Even those in Red Bull could see it, the fond looks they shared, the way Daniel was always standing close to her, the way he so clearly wanted to kiss her.

"You think I'm hot?" Y/N replied, but her tone was teasing.

Daniel spluttered like he had just been caught out. "Y-yeah, sure," he answered like he was unsure of himself. "You're Milo's hot momma."

"Well, if Olivia's hot papa thinking I'm hot, then it must be true," she said as she picked Milo up and placed him on her hip. They looked like quite a pair, with Milo in his AlphaTauri cap and Y/N in her shirt.

They watched the qualifying from the garage, with Olivia holding Y/N's hand and Milo sat in her lap. The qualifying felt incredibly long, but not boring. It was nerve wracking and, if she wasn't holding onto the kids, Y/N's nails would have been chewed down to nothing.

After Q1 was over, Y/N thought that was it. Daniel had finished in the top fifteen, top ten actually. He had made it through to Q2 but she didn't realise that, not until it was happening. "Livvy, what's going on?" She tried to ask, but Olivia had AlphaTauri ear defenders on and couldn't hear a thing.

Again, Daniel finished in the top ten. "Must be my lucky charms," he'd said down over the radio. It didn't take a genius to figure out what he meant, who he meant.

Daniel made it through Q3. He was doing better than his teammate, who had finished just outside of the top ten in Q2. He didn't finish as high as he wanted in Q3, not considering he wanted to go back to his glory days in Red Bull, but it was still good.

Starting P6 wasn't bad for an AlphaTauri, he decided as he climbed out of his car. He went through all of the usual procedures before making his way back to Olivia, Y/N and Milo.

A sweaty Daniel was... something else. Y/N couldn't tear her eyes away from him as he walked past them. She almost let out a low whistle, but she held back, remained her composure in front of the children.

If watching Formula One meant seeing a sweaty Daniel, she could live with that.

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#daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo smut #daniel ricciardo fluff #daniel ricciardo x you #f1 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula one #formula one imagine #formula one x reader #formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #dr3 #dr3 imagine #dr3 x reader

[hamlets-ak]

seaside sanctuary ༊*·˚

༘♡ speak to me in the language of lovers

during your vocation on a greek island, you and timothée spend some time on a secluded beach. a conversation you have makes him seriously think of your future together

The magic of Milos had settled over you gently and clingingly with its volcanic rock formations and golden shores. Not even two weeks had passed since the day you and Timothée arrived on the island, and you had already become one with the locals; traveling in all its cryptic passages and discovering the heart of the town.

You had found happiness in simple and frugal things like walking along pebbled pathways and marble streets with your boyfriend’s palm inside yours, fingers conjoined and tangled, quick pecks on the cheek and forehead, small glances and furtive smiles, soft laughs, warm or cold hugs, his head balancing tiredly on your shoulder and yours burying on his chest listening to his steady heartbeat.

It was Timothée’s idea to invite your families since you had only a month at your disposal before returning back to work and it was an opportunity to spend some time with them. Besides, it was such a beautiful trip, you had to share this unrepeatable experience. 

Altogether you traveled with your sailboat around the island and stayed on secluded beaches, accessible only by the sea. Hours and hours had been spent under the sun; swimming, snorkeling, laying on the deck, enjoying the sunset at anchor. 

Blazing afternoon sunrays penetrated your skin and blinded your vision, as the briny breeze fanned your face, pulling back strands of salty hair, tangling them with the blowing fair wind. 

The Aegen was opening around you; a sapphire-colored sea that touched the line of the sky, extending to a wild yet quiet horizon. It was summer and the world was in a splendor. 

Your arms were leaning on the silver railings of the boat and your gaze was up in the bright blue veil, watching the seagulls fly high and dive at the water, then rising up again, squawking loudly to each other. 

A burst of familiar boisterous laughter led your eyes to the back at the cockpit. You couldn’t help but smile before even allowing your stare to pierce that dirty glass, only at the sound of his voice. Your head slowly fell to the side and stayed balanced on top of your shoulder. 

Timothée’s radiant smile made you unconsciously laugh a little. And he must've noticed because even through the thick glass and the heavy blanket of water and salt covering it, he stared back at you with an electrifying glint and grinned widely as he bent down to knock at the glass a few times and then waved at you. 

« Let’s go! », he told you. 

You pushed yourself off the railings. Hushed murmurs accompanied by melodious giggles forced you to change your gaze from scenic islets and coves to a small group of people. Barefoot and sun-dazed, their hearts still left in the old pirates’ hideout, Kleftiko, your parents and Pauline, were laying relaxed on the boat. Their swimsuits were on, bodies still wet from their previous dive, drying under shining sunrays. Green beer bottles with the word ‘Mythos’ written on their lebels were reflecting golden beams of light, as cigarettes burnt in the air alongside sprinkles of brine and rust.

« Pauline? », you called her name. She sat better at her elbows and raised her eyes that were covered with black shades. « You’re coming? »

« Nah, » she replied throwing her head back. « I’m tired. I’ll just stay here and take a nap. Have fun though. » You nodded at her words and moved slowly and steadily to the back, hands holding tightly the ropes of the boat.

« Hey, » Timothée grinned at you. 

« Hi, » you greeted him and the Captain. « Where are we right now? »

« We are at Sykia, » Timothée replied. He wrapped his arm around you, letting it fall loose on your shoulder as he held you.

« Yeah that’s right, » the Captain spoke with his heavy Greek voice that held a melodious tone only people from Cyclades had. « Once you pass that tunnel, you’ll end up in the cave, » he pointed in the direction you were already looking at. Timothée nodded in understandment, arms snaking in your lower spine, bringing you closer to his body. « And when you get inside, you'll notice that a part of the roof of the cave is missing. It was submerged years ago and now there is a kind of natural skylight. »

« Oh that’s cool, » you said turning to the scenery while Timothée’s nose was mindlessly circling your cheek and temple, tracing soft lines over your brow. Sun kissed your faces and drifted at the space between, giving away a sheen. 

« It is cool, » the Captain continued. « I mean, what are you even doing in Milos if you haven’t visited Sykia? » You both lightly laughed at his words as you took Timothée’s hand in yours and pressed a pair of soft lips on top of it before he lightly patted your cheek with his hand making you grin, melting at his warm touch, and hug him tight. 

You had anchored close to the cave, less than half of a nautical mile. Waves were luring the boat along with them giving it a soft waft. 

Timothée waited for you to approach the edge of the boat before jumping off the stern into a calm steady sea with a thunderous splash that sprinkled you from head to toe, and then paddled the water. Quickly he emerged, throwing his head back and pulling pieces of hair that were stuck on his forehead, out of his face. With cold water stinging your skin, you lightly stepped back gasping.

« Come in! », Timothée laughed and motioned his head to you.

« It’s cold! », you slouched your shoulders, arms wrapped around your stomach. You glanced back regretting your decision of not staying with Pauline to take a nap as well.

« Come in! », he said in a more demanding tone. You bit your lips and shook your head. « I’m going to splash you. »

“No, you wouldn’t.”

« You sure about that? », he asked tossing a small wave of water in your direction. 

« Timothée, it’s cold! »

« I’ll splash you. » You looked at him for a few seconds. « I’ll do it. »

« Fine, » you groaned making him smile, and without much thought jumped into the sea. 

A freezing feeling struck then gradually consumed your body. Nothing but the sea was surrounding you and you kicked your feet through bitter water, gasping for air. You fought for a moment breathlessly to come to the surface and then looked at Timothée who was already a bit ahead of you.

« Wait, wait, wait! », you shouted at him. He stopped and turned around to look at you, as you paddled along the blue to be closer to him. Timothée couldn’t help but laugh, watching you all puffed, your legs weightless kicking an uncharted abyss below. 

Together you glided the blue, reaching the tunnel Captain told you about. Your head moved up too distracted from watching the brown-greenish rocks above your head. Tim pulled your hand and pressed a wet kiss on your cheek.

« Let’s go, » he said, his voice echoing loud all around as if coming from speakers.

The cave had no roof just like the Captain described it. Sun rays were lighting the inside of the cave, creating amazing colorations that enchanted you. It was a unique miracle every visitor should see. 

On the inside was a small pebbled beach, with rocks and crystal clear waters. There was no one there. Just the two of you.

Like true children of the sun, you swam in the idyllic calm and then ran to the pebbled shore, free, repeating the gestures of athletes of Delos.

« Aren’t you afraid it’s going to fall and crush us down? », you told him as your hands cupped in the air the part of the cave that was still up. Your bodies were close to each other, so close you could hear the smile forming on his lips.

« It’s been like that for so many years, why does it have to fall now that we are here? », he asked. You rolled your eyes and chuckled. 

« I’m just saying, » you mumbled. He breathed out heavily which made you turn in question. « What? », you looked at him.

« Oh, nothing, » he laughed a little, pulling back his wet hair. You kept staring at him for a few seconds watching droplets watering the rocks below you. 

« I’ve never been happier. » He wore a dreamful smile. « And I wish every day could be like that. »

« Like what? », his eyebrow slightly raised. Your mouth curled up thinking of your response as your gaze turned back to the crystal pure tapestry of the sky.

« Waking up together… making love… having breakfast… going for a walk… swimming… making love again and then having a bath together. » Your words caused a boyish grin to appear on his face and you imitated his expression. « Eating together, listening to music, watching the sunset… you laughing and me laughing because you are laughing… telling you how much I love you… »

« Sounds good to me, » he said and leaned to kiss your shoulder. You pouted your lips and looked down. Timothée frowned and then turned to the side, balancing on his one elbow, to take a better look at you.

« You won’t tell me how much you love me back? », you bit your lips trying not to smile. His face flushed at your mincing manner and how you pronounced the world ‘love’. He looked away.

« Oh, of course, I’ll tell you, » he bent lower his head and you tented your neck to catch his lips, your hand holding back his hair as he moved on top of you, dripping water running on your body. He breathed out hot air on your face making your head fall back trying to get some oxygen inside before returning to him, your heads touching and lips almost stitched together. 

« Y/N, » he said voice deep echoing inside you. « I really need you to know this. »

« You don’t have to say anything. »

« No, I have to, » Tim gulped. « You walked by chance into my very messy life and from day to day, I started to breathe better. Before you, without you, I loved nothing. With you, I have accepted more things. I have learned to live. That's probably why I’ve always mixed my love for you with so much gratitude. » Your mouth slightly opened and eyes glanced away. « I mean every word. »

Without warning you kissed him on the lips. He let out a muffled sound from the force with which your mouth touched his. 

« I wouldn’t have loved you any less, if you didn’t say anything, » you told him. Your stare was fixed on his plum reddish lips that tasted like salt and apricots and cherries. « But now that you did, all I can do is love you more. »

He smiled. His forehead brushed against yours as he let you lick away his grin and kiss him. First slow, sweet, soft; then harder, fiery, urgent, like a poem of Odysseas Elytis.

It was a true sisyphean work watching the way the lurking glint of your eyes and your wolfish grin dig up his most shameful secrets, without ripping the animal from within and burying himself in your streams of love and delicate words.

The waft’s stroke maneuvered between you, warm like a teenage memory, spreading sprinkles of salt and rust to the air. Bodies entangled in summer thunders, as the gentle splash of water on your toes offered a kind of peace, privacy, and safety that you had both missed. 

You flapped and then stayed there in comfortable silence. But as you watched the horizon slowly bleed from the crevice of the tunnel, Timothée couldn't think of the swollen sun, honeycombs, and wasted old summers.

The only thing he had in mind was how much he loved you, how much you loved him - because he knew that - and how much he couldn't wait any longer for you to live together forever.

And as you laid together, eyes gazing at the moon and the starlit sky, bodies hugging one another, his lips lingering on your head and fingers gently storing your hair, he probably took one of the most important, life-changing decisions about your life.

He was going to ask you to marry him.

#hamlets-ak #timothee chalamet #timothée chalamet #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee fanfic #timothee chalamet social media au #timothee chalamet x you #timothee chalamet imagine #timothee chalamet fanfiction

[disneyprincemuke]

the greatest love of all time is over now * milo+rocky vault

notes: happy april fool's aka the day i decide to be deranged again lolsie

enjoy yourselves with this one cuz i for sure had fun writing this (I've been emotionally ruined by writing this actually like it's so serious for me)

(series masterlist) | (📁 the milo + rocky vault)

what was supposed to be a peaceful meet-up to recuperate before spending months apart for separate commitments has taken the rudest turn. and it’s so unlike them to be in this predicament — they typically always find a way around difficult bouts of compromisation.

but how can something that was once easy be so difficult to tackle now?

she finds herself on the bed, slouched with the blankets still loosely covering her legs with milo now up on his feet.

“you seriously haven’t changed your mind?”

“what’s that supposed to mean?” she asks softly, furrowing her eyebrows at him. “you’ve seen the state of my career. i’m so close — i can’t be thinking about having kids at all, miles!”

he sighs. it’s not that he ever expected her to exchange her position in the sport, but there has to at least be some point in her life when she sees herself settling down and starting a family. there’s just no way she doesn’t see the same thing.

“not ever? we’re not getting any younger, rocks,” his laugh is dry as he says it, pointing between himself and her, “you have to at least have an idea about where we’re going with our relationship.”

“why do we have to have it all figured out? where’s the clock that’s running against us?” she sits up slightly straighter and presses her lips together. “we’re at the peak of our careers. why are we having this conversation again?”

“because i know that i want a family someday, rocks.” he runs a frustrated hair through his hair and tugs slightly. “i want that with you — settling down somewhere quiet someday and having kids. but if you’re still saying now that that’s not what you want…”

“i never even said that!” she squeaks, feeling the tension in the air hanging heavy. she’s got a weight on her chest now that she can’t seem to brush off and a funny feeling in her stomach. truthfully a feeling that she hasn’t been able to ignore since she walked in the door of milo’s apartment in los angeles.

“i do wanna marry you, but having kids… i’m an athlete, milo. i don’t,” she pauses as tears flood her eyes, “think i ever want to have kids.”

the silence overcomes them. the engines of cars passing by don’t even matter now, and the lights that occasionally light up his dimmed bedroom never come into play. though typically, they have cussed at every single one of them for causing a disruption to their downtime at this time of the night.

it’s the sudden realisation that it felt like this conversation was always going to happen somehow, someday, eventually. she just hadn’t realised that it would come so soon at 25. she never thought of kids, never saw herself having any, and has never favoured the thought of permanently altering her body for one.

“are you serious?”

she crawls out of his bed and shrugs. “i’ve never seen myself having kids,” she admits softly, looking down at her hands. “i don’t think anything is going to change that at all. i don’t want to bear kids with my body.”

“rocks…”

“it’s not fair, what you’re asking of me,” she says in a whisper, the lump in her throat growing as she chokes up. “ i don’t… we have to figure this out. and we will. let’s just sit down and talk about it.”

“we have talked about it.” she lifts her head to look at him, shaking her head. her biggest nightmare is coming to fruition and it’s just. not. fair. “we cannot keep having this conversation every couple of months as a joke and then brush it off again. rocks, this our lives and future we’re talking about.”

“what do you want me to do?” she cries with a soft and nervous chuckle. “this isn’t something that i can just change my mind on. i don’t want to ever get pregnant. i don’t want to step away from racing unless i really have to in a circumstance that i didn’t bring upon myself.”

he sighs, “i think you know what it means.”

“no, it’s not fair,” she mumbles under her breath, shaking her head. she looks up and meets his despaired stare, her knees almost buckling at the way he sighs. “we have to figure this out. just sit down.”

he runs a hand through his hair. it’s not like he wants to break up with her. he loves her, even 3 years ago when she first mumbled about not wanting to have kids.

realistically, he should have taken her seriously. but how was he supposed to? they were both young and in love; 3 years ago, he didn’t even know he ever wanted kids and a family himself. but with age, it changes.

perspective changes with time.

or at least that’s what he keeps telling himself. he doesn’t know when his mind started to change about their foreseeable future, and he knows it’s unfair what he’s trying to ask of her.

he loves her, but he’s not going to force her if she doesn’t want to.

“rocks, we’re gonna get nowhere with this,” he mutters, sighing shakily. “we have the same conversation every time. i can’t– there’s no possible way around this.”

“there has to be,” she says. “just sit down!”

she doesn’t shout often anymore, especially in his presence. but this situation is just so infuriating and the way he keeps insisting that things would wind up being the opposite of what she wants is making it worse.

truthfully, they rarely even fight.

“there is no other way around this! come on, be fucking serious! be realistic!”

“what if i just have kids then?” she shrugs, her tears finally falling out of her eyes. “it’s just kids, not a big deal, right?”

milo clenches his jaw and slowly shakes his head. “you can’t just make a rash decision now that we’re breaking up. you’re going to hate me and yourself down the road for having a kid you never wanted.”

she chokes up, “we’re breaking up?”

he sighs, “i’m afraid so.”

she breathes shakily and drops her head slightly. “but i love you.”

it’s just not enough this time.

“i love you too, but you know we can’t carry on like this.” he approaches her and wraps his arms around her, slowly realising how their week had come to such a bitter end so unexpectedly. “it won’t ever work if we’re not on the same page.”

“that’s so fucked up.”

#fem!driver #f1 fem!driver #female driver #disneyprincemuke vr #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke imagines #disneyprincemuke f1 #vettel reincarnate #dpm vr: mocky vault

[annahxredaxted]

Heyo idk if your requests are opened, but if possible can you write a one shot of Milo and sweetheart when sweetheart is non verbal after a bad day, and they can't talk to show him a wound they got on the job? Thanks!!

oh my goodness nobody ever requests stuff so this made me super excited! so of courseeee. also just so everyone knows my request are always open unless explicitly stated (:

Pairings: Milo/Sweetheart

cw: mentions of blood/gore etc. - cursing -

____

sweetheart let out a loud sigh as they closed their car door. they knew inside would be tiring. milo was waiting for them.

the idea of keeping a conversation going made them almost nauseous, they debated staying in the car for a little bit. but alas they gave up and went inside.

the smell of dinner instantly flooded their nose when they opened the door. they could hear bustling in the kitchen.

sweetheart set their bag on the bench in the entryway and hung their keys on the rack. the jingle alerting milo they were home. they could hear his steady footsteps making their way toward them.

“well hey there..” he smiled and hugged them with a quick kiss on the head.

they nodded and barely whispered a “hi.” back he knew something was wrong, but he couldn’t quite pinpoint it.

he looked at them concerned, he rubbed their shoulder briefly before clearing his throat.

“why don’t you go change into some more comfortable clothes yeah? then you can come back in here for dinner. i made ya favorite.” he smiled and nudged them, trying his hardest to get a grin out of them, but nothing. they still held that drained and almost numb look.

they nodded and shrugged their jacket off before hanging it up and walked to their shared room, not a word uttered.

sweetheart trudged into their closet, grabbing a pair of shorts and a dark green crewneck, that just so happened to be milo’s.

they splashed their face for a minute before blindly feeling for a towel with their eyes clenched shut. they dried their face with a tired sigh. it was only 6pm and that was a bit early to go to bed at the excuse of being tired.

as they walked they felt a painful sensation on their waist, they remembered being burned by some crazed and drunk fire elemental, but they barley thought it was a singe, so they ignored it.

milo noticed them come back into the kitchen he smiled and handed them a mug of tea, their favorite kind they usually drank when they came home.

“you hungry?” he asked softly, his hand on the side of their thigh and began trailing up, resting on their waist, they flinched at the sting, which had milo every shade of confused.

he looked very concerned and they didn’t say anything.

“sweetheart? are you alright?” he asked, their eyes getting watery from pain and tiredness. they shrugged weakly not being able to formulate the right words.

sweetheart began to pick at their thumbnail, part of it already red from a nervous habit they’d partaken in for a while.

“hey.. it’s alright, what’s going on?” milo whispered again, his head closer to their ear now. they still said nothing. they avoided his gaze, looking to the side of him instead of at him.

he led them to the couch to try to make them feel more relaxed, his heart aches for them, even if it wasn’t his fault he hated the idea that they were in pain or uncomfortable.

“you don’t have to answer our loud you can just nod or shake your head okay?” after a moment they nodded very subtly, sinking into the back of the couch, biting the collar of their sweatshirt.

“was it jett?” he asked, knowing jett pissed them off constantly. they shook their head.

“traffic? or just having to go to work in general?” he mumbled, his hand stroking their hair, they shrugged. that was definitely a part of it.

“did something.. bad happen today?” he asked a little more concerned. his hand rested on their shoulder and subconsciously went down to their waist again.

sweetheart winced loudly again, their face red and sweaty. milo immediately moved his hand away. he noticed that they only did that when his hand was there.

“can i look?” he asked holding the bottom of their sweatshirt, waiting for permission to tug it upward. they nodded, shivering.

he slowly and carefully pulled it up, revealing a burn mark the size of a small fist, red and oozy, it looked as it if started to scab up but the rest was raw and their were hints of dried blood around it. it looked.. painful, raw, gross.. those were all words floating around in milo’s head and he chose to say none of them.

“holy shit.. fuck sweetheart..” he whispered and they didn’t say anything.

they clenched their jaw as milo’s fingers softly circles around it, testing it’s limits of pain.

“does that hurt when i do that?” they shook their head. he was relieved he wasn’t contributing to the pain, but he still felt horrible for his poor poor sweetheart.

“why didn’t you tell me about this earlier..?” he said in a whisper. the question felt almost rhetorical because he knew they wouldn’t answer.

he immediately stood up, making his way to the first aid kit, bandage wraps and Neosporin, on his way back he grabbed a rag and a ice water.

he returned to the couch and sat in front of them on the ottoman, setting everything down. he gave them some water and kept the rag near them for something to bite down on.

milo ushered them closer, a warm but steady essence to him. he smiled briefly at them before clearing his throat.

“can i take your shirt off?” he asked quietly, they seemed almost scared. he knew this would probably hurt, and he sure as hell knew they knew that too.

they nodded reluctantly, and began pulling it over their head with some struggle, he helped them, his hands under the collar to keep it from hurting and he pulled it off with ease.

they sat there waiting as he grabbed an antibacterial wipe and slowly brought it next to the burn. before he began he handed them the towel to bite down on.

“this is probably gonna hurt.. i’m sorry baby, it won’t last long..” he whispered before kissing their head.

they whimpered and bit the towel, their head rested on milo’s shoulder, their body shook and he tried to calm them.

he slowly wiped the wound, he could hear them crying from exhaustion and pain. it hurt him to hear and see the love of his life in this state.

they quivered under his touch, the pain almost unbearable. he shushed them with warm words.

“i know baby i know..” he mumbled before finishing. he threw the wipe away, grabbing Neosporin and rubbing it on the wound, a smaller sting but still definitely sting.

they winced, arms shaking as they tried to regulate their breathing.

it was finally time to wrap the wound and they couldn’t be more relieved, milo sat them up straight, and even he was upset they had to pull away from his comfort.

milo placed the end of the bandage on the opposite side and wrapped it twice around their torso, sealing it tight but not tight enough to hurt them more.

they sighed with shaky breath before milo pulled their sweatshirt back over them, giving them a kiss on the forehead. he brought the water to their lips making them drink a little before clearing his throat.

“there.. good as new ehh?” he joked lightly, kissing their cheek. sweetheart wiped their lips of any excess water, their eyes drooped and they look exhausted.

milo smiled down at them, pulling them to their feet and kissing their head again.

“i think it’s sleepy time yeah?” he asked with a grin, they nodded barley before he picked them up, startling them but they were quickly brought to ease. they wrapped their legs around his torso and their hands around his neck, their head rested on his shoulder.

they let out a big yawn as he began walking he chuckled slightly, his smile turning into a frown when he began thinking of everything that had happened today.

why had they not just told him? did they not trust him? did he do something for them to feel that way..?

he spiraled but was knocked out of it when he felt their hand snake it’s way up to his hair, digging into hair and softly scratching his scalp. almost as an action of gratitude.

milo knew and respected that they weren’t the best with words, their love language wasn’t necessarily words of affirmation but they definitely didn’t struggle in that arena. but they were also definitely better with actions, and/or gift giving.

like sometimes they’d briefly rub him on the back when he seemed down, or they’d buy him something for the simple reason it reminded them of him. they’d give him endless massages, or if they knew he had a long work day they would run him a bath.

all of that to say he appreciates them, but there are definitely times he wished they were a little more verbally open with him. he would never judge them for struggling with that, but he wishes he could help them get more comfortable, and confident in oder to confide in him for things like this.

milo arrived to their shared bedroom, he gently laid them down, the light was already off and the second their head hit the cold pillow they were knocked out, it was a little chilly in there so he might have thrown in an extra blanket. they seemed relaxed and at ease and it made his heart happy to see them like that.

he leaned down to kiss their head and they shifted, slightly waking up. they fluttered their eyes, looking up at him.

sweetheart half smiled, pained but genuine. they pulled his head closer to theirs and placed a feather light kiss on his cheek.

“i love you milo..” they whispered, barley coherent, but he heard them.

“i love you to baby.. now go to sleep yeah?” they nodded and let go of his face, rolling back over and snuggling soundly into the blankets.

milo loves his sweetheart.

_____

TAGLISTTTT:

@itsdaifuku @shellssstuff @darlin-collins @verrverii @hobiesrockstargf @mrsmiagreer @glitchedvariety

a/n: y’all this took longer than necessary. IT KEPT DELETING PARAGRAPHS AND SHIT. but anyways it’s here now. thanks for the request anon! mwah!😘

(also just a debrief of all the feeling i felt writing this- this made me so sad but so comforting because it really shows a side of sweetheart we don’t see. like we know sassy sticks up for ppl and themselves but letting them just be a little tired and not want to talk and be all of these things was so nice and milo is just so understanding of all of it and it makes me so so happy. that’s all. )

#redacted asmr #redacted milo #redacted sweetheart #redacted fanfic #cw: gore #CW: Cursing #CW: mentions of blood #redacted fandom #redacted audio #redacted audio milo #redacted audio sweetheart

[dominimoonbeam]

Domini!! Wa-hoo, I am vibrating with excitement at the prospect of sending in a request to you. Now, I'm sure you already know I'm going to ask for Milo/Sweetheart as the pairing, because, I am me. As for the prompts, I'm going to send you a few from each list and let you choose from the list, as many or as few as you feel fits with your ideas. Please feel free to adapt to your liking. Thank you thank you thank you for considering to take on my request, and no pressure to do so if you've got other ideas to chase. I'm excited to read whatever you chose to write! No matter what, have fun, my talented and kind friend!

[ WAIT ]: realizing the receiver is about to leave the room, the sender hastily reaches out and catches their wrist, preventing them from continuing their departure.

[ GAZE ] : sender watches receiver from across a crowded room.

[ WRAP ]: when sitting astride a horse/motorcycle/etc. together, the sender reaches back, takes the receiver’s wrists, and gently pulls their arms around the sender’s waist in an embrace designed to keep the receiver safe, despite feeling remarkably intimate.

[ GUIDE ] : in order to guide the receiver, sender presses a hand against the small of their back.

ROMI!!!!! Thank you so much for this ask!! I don't write nearly enough Milo/Sweetheart but they steal the show when I bring them into other fics!

I got all of these EXCEPT for [Wrap] and I'm now planning to turn my college au into a series and put that into it with Milo/Sweetheart and Milo's motorcycle... It's happening!!

Until then, here's the first fic. <3 <3 <3

Milo/Sweetheart. Early relationship moment.

He hadn’t expected to see them there, but maybe he should have.

The bar was a popular empowered hang out, and one that was known for a mix of clientele.

“What’s wrong?” Asher asked over the music, leaning onto his shoulder and casting his gaze through the crowd.

Milo tore his eyes off of Sweetheart, pivoting into Asher instead of away. “What?” He pretended not to know what he meant. “Did you lose the boss already?”

Asher’s eyes grew and he whirled around to catch David trying to walk back out now that a bunch of the pack were in the door, getting drinks and arguing about table location preferences. “No! Nonono! You have to stay for at least two drinks!” Asher was calling, laughing and grabbing David before he could escape. They had been out on a job and then gone to dinner before Asher spotted the bar and decided they needed a few beers before going home. He was on a rant about bonding and team building again, like they hadn’t all been a family longer than the company had existed.

But Asher wasn’t wrong, about trying to pull David along. He had gotten distant the last year since he became alpha. Asher was just doing what he could to get everyone back in sync.

The last thing they needed was Milo possibly dating a Department agent. He and Sweetheart had danced around the topic the few times it had come up, neither sure what sort of conflicts of interest they were flirting with by….well, by flirting with each other.

More than flirting. He’d helped them catch a shade and they’d patched him up and stayed the night. They were something but whether that something was friends that sometimes shared a bed or something else, he didn’t know.

Milo leaned against the bar, half in a conversation with Arden and David. His gaze strayed again. It was too easy to find Sweetheart in the crowd. The group they were sitting with were clearly Department. Sweetheart wore a tight smile, polite but not entirely interested while the others carried on and laughed. And then their gaze cut to him. He knew instantly that they’d already seen him, probably when the pack first walked in.

Their smile softened, reaching their eyes, and Milo felt like he might fly. He smiled back.

Their eyes narrowed at something someone at their table said, their attention swinging back to their group, smile gone. The group looked back at Milo. He sipped his beer and pretended not to be looking at the stealth across the room.

Unfortunately, David was looking right at him, eyebrow lifted.

Milo flushed and swallowed the beer in his mouth.

“You know them?” David asked, something unreadable in that question.

Milo almost lied. He could say he didn’t know them and try to make that true—try to convince himself that he really barely even did. But as soon as he considered it, he knew it was bullshit. He knew Sweetheart’s smile, he knew their laugh, the way they threw a punch, and what an absolutely rough healer they were. He knew how their hands felt on him, how they moaned, and how they kissed. He knew how smart they were, how quick their thoughts moved, and that they were a good person. “The Stealth, yeah.”

David sipped his beer and glanced at the table again and then back to Milo. “Department?”

Milo nodded but didn’t look.

David frowned, seeming to choose his words carefully.

Milo waited, shoulders pulling close. Was he going to tell him what a bad idea that was? How they didn’t need some Department agent in their business right now? David had already been dealing with so much this last year…

“You’re okay with that?” David asked.

Milo blinked.

He looked uncomfortable, the way David always did when he felt like he had to tread personal ground. “I know how you feel about your dad, Milo… His career was hard on you guys.”

Milo stared at him, surprised. He felt a pang of guilt that he’d thought David would be worried about anything else. “Yeah. I mean, it was hard, but this… I don’t know. It’s new. It might not be anything. But they’re…” He tried to find the right words and failed.

David nodded like he understood and took another swig of his beer. “You should probably catch them before they go then.”

“What?” Milo swung around in time to see Sweetheart cutting through the crowd toward the exit, alone.

He cast a quick look around, the table of Department employees had scattered, some having left and some moving on to the dance floor or to the bar for more drinks.

Milo pushed away from the bar and left his barely touched beer.

They moved so easily through a crowd, but they weren’t in a hurry and he intercepted them before the door, catching their wrist to stop them. The way their hand turned to link with his told him they knew it was him even before they turned around. The worry he’d had that he was overstepping, possibly putting them in a bad position with their colleagues, fell away when they looked at him. They looked surprised, in the best way, something bright in their eyes.

“Hey,” they said first, looking down at his hand and theirs.

“Hey,” Milo said back. “Is this okay?”

Sweetheart sighed, nodding. “I was going to ask you that.” They glanced past him to the pack at the bar. “I don’t want to cause problems for you…”

Milo smiled, lifting their hand in his to brush their knuckles against his lips. “I think you’re going to cause me plenty of problems, Sweetheart, but not like that.”

Sweetheart smirked, biting at their lip to try to hide it. He loved when they did that. “So, we’re a thing, Milo Greer?”

Milo almost laughed. No one had ever said his name like they did. “Yeah, we’re definitely a thing. If… If you’re okay with that?”

Sweetheart nodded, stepping up to close that small distance between them. They kissed him. It was chaste but it was public and that was a first. His heart fluttered in his chest and they were blushing when they stepped back.

Milo glanced back, more than a few of the pack watching them.

“Do you want to make a run for it, Sweetheart, or do you want to come meet some people?” he asked, hoping they heard in his voice that both options were absolutely okay by him. He’d go anywhere with them.

For the first time since he met them, he saw Sweetheart hesitate, looking past his shoulder at the pack like they were intimidating. It would be laughable after having seen them run headlong at a damn shade if it wasn’t making his knees weak. They put real consideration into this. Of course, he’d like them to put that level of thought into actual danger but, he could appreciate this too.

They swallowed and nodded. “Let’s meet some people.” They pushed their shoulders back and chin up, fearless as ever once decided.

Milo touched the small of their back, falling in at their side and gently guiding them forward. “No one’s going to give you trouble, and if they do, you can take ‘em,” he said low, close to their ear. It earned him a laugh and a grin. He kept his hand against their back when they reached the bar and the pack. He liked the way their heartbeat calmed down when his hand was there, the way they subtly leaned back into his touch, and the way they trusted him to guide them.

He was already determined never to let them regret that.

#milo/sweetheart #redactedverse #redacted asmr #fanfic #<3 #fic prompt

[no-see-um-incorrect]

(this idea was from  @weepingredwillow I hope I did it justice)

Also, I allude to the headcanon that sweetheart and Sam are siblings 

Tender love, And-

Sam and Masc Darlin belated after care 

⚠️NSFW Mentioned⚠️bruises⚠️ mentions of past trauma⚠️ angst⚠️

No proofread 

——————————————————

Darlin woke up to the soft morning light shining in their face from the window. They adjusted their eyes to the glow, searching for the face that they usually wake up to…a face that is conspicuously absent.

Then the memories of their conversation with Sam last night came flooding back. He’s at Vincents. helping him with landscaping plans. 

He must’ve left before the sun came up. They could stay in bed all day, but. sadly, this was the day where they also had things to do. Darlin rolls over to sit up and is immediately met with an intense sharp pain in their side. “GOD!FuCk-”

Darlin’s POV:

“God that fucking stings!”

I sat up from the bed clutching my side, carefully walking to the mirror. Well doesn’t this bring back memories.

I look in the mirror and lift up my tank top. “Oh shit” a large dark bruise on my side “how the fuck-Oh” the memories of me and Sam escapades last night start coming back to me. We had talked about using a little more force but….he did not push me against the wall that hard. And even if he did my bruises don’t hurt NEARLY this fucking bad. I haven’t felt this bad of pain since-

“Aw shit….i must’ve re-Fucked it up” should’ve listened to Gabe when he told me to drink the milk out of my cereal bowl growing up. “it’ll make your bones stronger!” Who would’ve guessed the old man would be right.

Good going! First time your a little rougher with your mate in bed and ya fucked it up by getting hurt. I sit back down on the bed, wincing at the pain from grabbing my phone off the nightstand.

“Healershealershealershealers” I scroll through my phone contacts. Cursing myself for not learning healing magic like Marie was always wanting me and Milo to do. Then I see my saving grace 

invis-bitch

Given how close they are to Sam it’s not my best option, but better than an earful from Marie. I dial the number and put it on speakerphone.

“investigator Greer speaking” “investigator Greer~ is this some film noir scene! Am I supposed to put on some sort of cheap jersey accent and tell you about how my husband has mysteriously vanished~” “very funny. I’m just testing it out” “it sounds nice i’m sure if Milo heard you say that he would tackle you right then and there” a chuckle can be heard on the other end of the phone “are you gonna get on the topic of why you called? Or am I supposed to guess?” “oh, right. are you free at all?” “actually I’m at work right now. why what’s up?” “Shit-never mind I thought I left something at your house..but it’s right in front of me!” “you sure? You don’t sound normal” “i’m fine just woke up. see you at the next pack meeting. investigator Greer~”

I Hang up the phone and grab my bag. Taking a few ibuprofen. Before heading to the shower. 

Nobody’s POV 

Darlin gets out of the shower and gently slithers into a tank top and boxers.

*BUZZBUZZBUZZ* invis-bitch

“can’t get enough of me huh?”

“you worry me” “you’re not the first person who’s told me that” “given your track record I won’t be the last” “so what’s up?” “your hurt what happened?” “you got all of that from a phone call? No wonder you’re one of dumps best” “Answer the question Tank” “FINE. Me and Sam wanted to get a little rougher in bed and he pushed me against the wall too hard…” “did Sam not realize it?” “well, if he did, I wouldn’t be sitting here with a broken rib talking to you now would I?” “usually Sam’s pretty careful with his strength..” “🎶it was the heat of the moment🎶-OW! shit!” “try not to strain yourself DumbASS” “why do you sound so pissy?” “I had to cancel my dinner plans because I have to work late. stop deflecting” “…asshat” “why didn’t you call Sam?” “he’s already out  helping Vinny with shit and the sun is bright as hell. He can’t go anywhere” “but that’s not the only reason” “what makes you say that?” “because you hide your emotions the same way Milo does. You give some vague general ass answer, in hopes to satisfy the person asking because you don’t want to burden them” “wow getting read to filth on a Tuesday afternoon”

“spill. i’m literally sitting here doing basic ass paperwork I’ve got time” “…..Sam takes his time with everything…and that’s time I’m happy to give him..i’m scared that one stupid accident will make us go backwards…” “….do you wanna know why me and Milo work so Well?” “…sure” “Me and Mi work so well because we communicate on everything. “Hey love the knots are a little too tight” “hey sweetheart can you use a little less teeth?” We constantly have that line of intimate communication To the point where it’s as simple as talking about dinner” “but i don’t want to-” “To scare him? Oh Honey that Man is ALL IN! because you’re his safe person. He has a level of trust with you that he’s never had with anybody else” “..so what do I do?” “have a conversation. I promise you it’s not as hard as it sounds” “….thanks for the advice” “yeah, try actually listening to it”

They hang up the phone. and grab a heating pad out from the bottom of the cupboard under the sink 

————————Time jump———————————

“I’m Home Darlin!” Darlin walks out of the bedroom “hey baby” they give him a soft kiss and wrap their arms around his neck. Their side burned in pain, but they managed to hide it  “how was your day?” “pretty uneventful. what about you?” “Who would’ve guessed Vincent is so picky when it comes to outdoor decor *sigh* but I’m happy to be home” “are you gonna go get cleaned up or do you want to chill on the couch” “we can chill on the couch. That’s fine with me” the two sit on the couch and cuddle up close, being careful as to not sit in a way that would injure them further 

“hey Sam?” “yeah Darlin?” they sit up and turn to him “um…I…I noticed something this morning that sparks an important conversation we need to have…” “is everything OK?” “yeah, everything’s fine. Justhear me out OK?” “all right I’m hearing ya” “last night was great it felt great. Everything was great. but this morning I woke up and saw the effects of it…” “..did I hurt you?” “….yeah. I didn’t want to tell you.. because I didn’t want you to feel shitty over a mistake..” “Darlin..I appreciate you looking out for me like that but I can handle a little constructive criticism when it comes to you. I wanna make sure you’re comfortable” “and I am comfortable! It just needs some tweaking..” “and I’m more than happy to do that…can I see” “how did you know the pain is still there?”

“you were walking weird..thought you just fell asleep on something…please let me see” Darlin lifts up their tank top and exposes the large bruise covering their side. They can hear sam’s gasp

“i’m so sorry Darlin” “Sam it was a simple mistake.. you don’t need to apologize for that” “….at least let me fix it..let me give you that tender love and care I should’ve given you last night before we fell asleep” Darlin nods and Sam gestures for them to lay down, And turns them to their side. “can I touch?” “Yea. Sammy baby you don’t need to ask. it’s not like we’re back in my old apartment after I fought those vamps. i’m familiar with these..callus hands~” they smiled  and for a split second it brought Sam back to that old apartment and hell, even through tears and blood and pain his darlin still smiled.

Sam’s hands gently shifted around their torso. Sam’s magic didn’t tingle like Marie’s or Milo‘s mate’s. It felt warm. Like a roaring fire on a cold winters night. or a warm blanket after a long day. It was a Sam feeling. it’s their favorite feeling. 

Once the healing was all done Darlin went to pull down their shirt, but Sam stopped them 

“I never said I was done” “but you finish the healing” “yeah, I plan to do much more than that kind of healing” they stopped his hands “Sam I don’t want it to take too much out of you. That was a lot of magic” “i’m fine darlin. I only got a dull headache it’ll go away in a little while. But right now I wanna do this. if you’ll let me” “..Fine”

Sam straddles their legs. And leans forward.  planting soft kisses on their side where the bruise used to be. Gently kissing up and down their torso. the feeling of his scruff against their skin tickled against their scars. “I can feel you almost laughing” “it feels nice! but it also tickles” “i’m glad” “….But..Ya know what would feel even better?~” “what’s that?” “feeling those soft lips on mine~” “is that so~” they adjust themselves  so they’re laying on the couch and Sam’s on top of them. He wraps his arms around their neck. And Darlin locks their lips. A soft and warm kiss.  one of those kisses where it just feels like everything’s right in the world. (even when things aren’t) Sam breaks away and gazes into their eyes. 

“I love you Sam” “I love you too Darlin”

————————————————————————

This might be shit 

But that’s OK. However, I am not. 

I’m not OK 

I promise that I will write something other than Sam&Darlin soon (I just really love them)

Hope you enjoyed 





#redacted audio #redacted asmr #redacted sam #redacted darlin #redacted sweetheart #redacted fic #no see um writing #i’m still learning how to tag shit I’m sorry

[comphy-and-cozy]

You Got What I Need - Brock Boeser

Pairing: Brock Boeser x Reader (f)

Summary: When Brock says something horrible in the midst of an argument, you take off and leave him alone to face the consequences of his actions. Will he be able to win you back, or are you gone forever? Chronicling the aftermath of a fight, featuring big brother Anders Lee.

Word Count: 5.5K

Author’s Note: I had so much fun writing my first fic for @antoineroussel’s fic exchange, I had to do it again as a pinch hitter 😜 This was written for @dazeddobson - this may be a little bit (read: a lot) self-indulgent and contrived but hey, it’s our world and these boys are just living in it, right? I tried to cater to multiple of your likes/asks! Hope you enjoy, beautiful!

Warnings: Angst, language, alcohol use, references to sex/adult themes, brief hockey violence, a little bit of toxic masculinity. Also included: some protective Islanders to make you feel nice and soft.

When Elias answered his door, seeing you with red eyes and a duffel bag was the last thing he was expecting. No, scratch that; having you collapse into his arms, choking out a sob, was the last thing he was expecting.

As soon as the initial shock wore off, he was holding you, hushing you quietly as you let your tears out, spluttering out nonsensical words as you tried to explain what happened not even an hour prior.

You and Brock had spent the afternoon at the dog park, bundling up in the cold January air in Vancouver, carting Coolie and Milo for a day to frolic in the snow. When you got home, rosy-cheeked but feeling warmth in your heart, you got a group FaceTime from your sister, Alexis, with your brother, Anders, to inform you of some big news: She was pregnant with a baby girl.

Of course, you and Brock were over the moon for your sister and her husband, knowing that they were both looking to start their family, and you were already excited about the idea of being a cool aunt. Anders promised to outfit her in Islanders gear, to which Brock jokingly said he’d be battling to make her a Canucks fan instead.

After some happy tears and many congratulations, you finally hung up the call. Brock smiled, beaming at you. “I’m really excited for them. I’m gonna be an uncle!”

“That you are, baby,” you smiled.

He grinned, hand moving to poke you in the stomach. “I can’t wait til we start a family and have little Boeser babies of our own.”

You laughed, lighthearted as you said, “We’ve got plenty of time before that, Brock.”

His face fell. “What do you mean ‘plenty of time’?”

The smile on your face faded too, and you realized the serious turn this conversation was about to take, unable to brace yourself. “I just… I’m not ready for kids yet, Brock.”

“Well, yeah, we’re gonna move to Minnesota first, buy a house, settle down. And then we get married, and then the babies come,” he said matter-of-factly.

You hesitated, and Brock noticed. You saw the hurt in his eyes as he watched you search for the right words.

“Yeah, B, eventually,” you said, emphasizing the ‘eventually’. “But not right now.”

“But — I thought we talked about this. We’re ready.”

“No, Brock, you are ready.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” he asked. The frustration in his voice was evident, rising steadily along with yours.

“It’s not that I don’t love you or don’t want to commit to you, I’m just not there quite yet,” you explained.  

“Well, it sure sounds like you don’t want to commit to me,” Brock snapped, your words hurting his heart. “How am I supposed to plan a future with someone who won’t even move with me? It’s not like it’s a big deal. You are literally from Minnesota, too.”

“Because it’s not that simple, Brock! That’s a huge ask — for me to pack up and leave my friends and my job and my entire life here, regardless of who’s waiting for me in Minnesota. Why don’t you understand that?” you tried to explain, pleading with him to step into your shoes. 

“I would do it for you,” he said coldly. 

You scoffed. “We’ve hardly spent any time in New York since we started dating.”

“We could!”

“No, Brock, we go where your career leads us, when it leads us. Which is fine with me, because you’re doing what you love, and I know what I signed up for by being with you – obviously, I know what it’s like to have a professional athlete in the family. All I’m saying is it’d be nice if we could do some things for me when it’s not all hockey, hockey, hockey,” you said. 

“Are you fucking serious?” Brock’s eyes were blazing now. “Do you see this? All of this? I do all of it for you, Y/N!”

“Sure, that’s why we spend so much time in New York,” you retorted, your tone scathing.

Brock scoffed, running a hand through his hair. His cheeks were tinged pink, heated from the argument, as he laughed darkly to himself. “How could I be so stupid thinking you’re the one?”

At his words, you swore you could feel your blood boil. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean, Brock?”

Brock’s eyes were dark, but not in the way you were used to, in the way that meant he’d have you moaning his name shortly; instead, they were hurt, angry, and betrayed. He looked at you, and you barely noticed the moment of hesitation in his eyes before he spat, “I’m just not sure if you’re the person I want to spend the rest of my life with anymore.”

He closed his mouth immediately, regretting the words as soon as they tumbled out. Your eyebrows raised, in shock at his words, feeling the deep slash in your heart as they settled in. Staring at him for a moment, you gave him the opportunity to follow up, to say something else to soften the blow, but he didn’t take it, instead glaring back at you angrily, an angry flush in his cheeks.

Turning on your heel, you left him standing in his own silence, moving to the bedroom to pack a bag. Instead of stopping you like you expected, he just watched you walk out the front door, not glancing back once.

The next morning Brock groaned as he stretched himself awake, rolling over to press a kiss to your temple, but was met with the snoozing bodies of Milo and Coolie instead. Blinking, Brock lifted his head to see the rest of the bed was empty, cold from the absence of your body.

It was in that moment that the memory of the day before came flooding back, and he closed his eyes, the regret sinking deeply into his soul as he remembered the things he said. He had taken the evening to cool off, thinking that you two just needed some time apart before you’d come back and talk things through. 

His heart hurt at the notion that you still hadn’t come home, and he had to admit he said some nasty things, but what worried him the most was the validity of them. Was there truth behind the statement he made? Did he not want to spend his life with you? You had been right; you two were at such different parts of your life, so it only made sense you were looking for different things. Was it really unfair to ask you to change that?

Brock checked his phone, hoping to see a message or missed call from you, but was met with nothing, other than a text from Elias letting him know you were with him and safe. Sighing, he glanced at the clock, realizing he needed to head to the rink soon for practice; he’d deal with what he was going to say to you later.

After a grueling practice, Brock caught up with Elias to hear what had happened after you left. Understandably, Elias was pissed.

“Dude, I can’t believe you fucking said that to her,” the Swede shook his head angrily as he packed up his bag.

“I know, man, I just…” Brock trailed off, absentmindedly fiddling with the label on his Gatorade bottle.

“Did you mean it?”

“Did I mean what?”

“What you said. That you don’t want a future with her,” Elias said, watching him intently.

Brock sighed. “I don’t know, man. I mean, I love her so much, I love her more than I’ve ever loved anything. But she’s right. We’re at different points in our lives, and we both want different things. I’m ready to settle down, start a family.”

“How’s that gonna go when you don’t have someone to settle down with? That takes time, you know, and apparently you’re running out of that.” Elias raised an eyebrow. Fuck, he had a point.

“Well, how am I supposed to feel, knowing that she’s not willing to commit to me?” Brock’s defenses were up, not yet ready to admit that he was wrong.

“Dude, she packed up her entire life and moved with you to Vancouver,” Elias pointed out dryly.

“Well, true, but  —”

“All she wants is to spend a little more time closer to home when you have the time. It’s not that much to ask, bro. She’s given you everything.”

Well, shit. Elias was right again. “Fuck, man. I fucked up.”

“Ya sure did, Boes. She’s still at my house. You should swing by and talk to her,” Elias suggested, and Brock agreed, getting into his own car to follow him to his house.

When he pulled in the driveway, your car was gone. He and Elias both took to calling out for you, but to no avail. Figuring you must have gone home, Brock turned around and headed back to the apartment you shared together.

It was when your car wasn’t in that driveway either that he started to worry. Heart rate speeding up, he fumbled with his key and pushed through the door, frantically hoping and desperately wishing that at this point your car had been stolen, because at least it’d be better than the alternative  —

Tearing through the house, Brock called for you. Milo padded out, confused as to why his dad was acting so funny, and it was when he looked down at Milo that he realized something was missing.

Coolie.

Brock’s heart sank. It couldn’t be — you couldn’t have —

He flew up the stairs to the bedroom, furiously tugging open the dresser drawers to find them empty. Throwing open the closet door, he found your half empty, the hangers hanging neatly on the rack. Barely a single trace of you left in the home you’d made together, gone like you’d never been there at all.

“Fuck,” Brock cursed. He was sure his heart was about to explode, hardly refusing to believe that it — you — were gone.

In that same instance, Brock realized that he had a phone that could contact you. Hands shaking, he clicked on your contact, his favorite photo of you on the beach from a vacation to Mexico a few years ago. His heart nearly thumped out of his chest as he waited to hear your voice on the line, hardly able to handle the anticipation as he listened to ring after ring after ring. When he heard the automated message, he hung up and chucked his phone on the bed, slamming his fist against the wall.

Eyes closed, Brock rested his head against his hand, trying to regain his breath before he figured out what to do. When he opened them, he realized he had put a hole through the wall. Fuck.

He tried calling once, twice, three more times, before he realized you were probably purposely ignoring him, and he sat on the edge of the bed as the realization sank in that you were actually gone. Suddenly, it was like he could see how much of you was in him, in this house, in the life that you had built together. How could he ever see a future without you? 

Brock was distraught, beside himself, without any idea where to turn or where you even went. How was he supposed to get you back? As he contemplated his options, a worse thought entered his brain: What if he couldn’t? How was he supposed to live without you? 

A week had gone by, and Brock still had received no word from you, only a single post on your Instagram story of the Empire State building, letting him know that you had gone to New York, presumably to stay with your brother. Since you left, he’d also been having one of his worst stretches of his career, consistently missing chances and giving away pucks, letting his opponent’s rookie deke him in a glaringly obvious move that almost had him benched for the rest of the game. Not only was he hurting at home, but now it was affecting his work, too. 

He tried texting, tried calling, even messaging on Instagram, with no response. Not even a ‘read’ notification to prove that you were giving him the cold shoulder (though he knew you were). He wasn’t going to even attempt calling Anders – he wasn’t that stupid – but he did call Alexis, desperately begging her to have you call him. She said she’d pass along his message, but she didn’t think it’d do any good. She was right.

Brock knew he had fucked up, but what hurt the most is that he didn’t even have the opportunity to apologize or explain himself, and now you were in this limbo where he didn’t really know what to call you. Was it over for good? All signs pointed to yes, considering every trace of you was gone from the house, but he couldn’t help but hope — hope that you’d give him the chance to talk it out and at least end it to his face. He just had to figure out how to get to you.

It was a Friday night, and after practice, he was off for the night. He wandered around the house listlessly, with the home feeling empty and cold and nothing like a home without you in it.

He had finally found you, the girl of his dreams, but he just couldn’t get things right. How could he have fucked up so royally, letting his emotions get the best of him in the heat of the moment? With just a few simple words, Brock was sure he’d ruined his life. Kicking at a tuft in the carpet, he went into his dresser drawer, ignoring the empty drawers next to his, and pulled out the ring box that he’d been hiding and saving for the right time.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he opened the box and looked at the ring, the diamond glinting in the light, imagining how pretty it would look on your finger. He had an entire folder on his phone dedicated to the comments you’d make here and there about other girls’ rings, taking note of what you liked and didn’t like, until he pulled the trigger and bought one that was perfect for you. With a sigh, he carefully returned the ring box to its hiding spot, and moved to break out his guitar, strumming lightly.

He had a whole proposal planned, was going to sweep you off your feet before asking you to make him the happiest man in the world and be his forever. He knew how much your music meant to you, and had made an entire playlist of all your favorite songs to listen to whenever he missed you — needless to say, it had been playing on repeat since you left, only making the ache in his heart swell harder. 

Brock’s fingers found their place on the strings, playing the familiar tune he had been practicing for months. He strummed the chords of “10,” envisioning the look on your face when he’d surprise you, playing your favorite song, before getting down on one knee.

As the song played, he could have actually kicked himself. In another world, he’d laugh at the irony of the song — your song — and how it painfully juxtaposed the situation he was in now.

I never had it so easy She taught me how to be She’s a keeper  And I ain’t goin’ nowhere

She’s fire, a messiah She ain’t a ten, she’s higher And I don’t wanna waste no time She’s flawless, I’m in awe She ain’t a ten, she’s more My eyes never wander, there’s no need to explore She’s everything that I’ve Been looking for

She’s the one I’ve waited for

Brock swallowed the lump in his throat, bitterness resting on his tongue. He’d never forgive himself if he lost you forever because of a few stupid words — words he didn’t even mean. He looked at his phone one last time, hoping for a text he knew wasn’t there, and then he made up his mind.

He stood up, grabbing his duffel bag that he usually brought on road trips — a gift from you for Christmas one year, embroidered with his initials — and shoved some clothes in, not really paying much attention to what he was packing. He sent a quick text to Elias, giving Milo a scratch behind the ears, and then he was in his car on his way to the airport.

He had to see you, to try one last time. 

When you left, you knew you may have been a bit melodramatic, but leaving was the only option that felt right; you didn’t feel comfortable in your own home anymore, not after the words that Brock had cut your heart with. So, you called Anders, who, of course, welcomed you with open arms. 

He’d picked you up from the airport, listening with an expressionless face as you told him what happened. Naturally, playing the role of your protective older brother, he offered to murder Brock and hide the body, and you laughed as you declined, citing that it might make his job a little difficult to do in prison. Really, you weren’t sure what was next, only that you needed some time to think and to let your heart heal from Brock’s words. 

In the same vein, Anders and his teammates were excited to have you in town, surrounding you with love and laughter from the minute you set foot on the Island. Though it didn’t fill the gap in your heart, the warmth was a soothing comfort that you desperately needed.

When Mat asked you to hang out, you accepted instantly. Did you know he had a crush on you? Yeah. And was there a mutual attraction there? Maybe. But he knew, and you knew, that even if you were spending time with him, maybe even flirting with him a little, that that was all it could be for now, both because of Anders and Brock. You weren’t sure what your relationship status was, but you didn’t think you were single — at least, not yet. Still, it was nice to feel wanted and appreciated, and it didn’t hurt that Mat was sweet and kind and caring. And maybe it felt a little bit satisfying to know that someone was interested in a future with you, even if you really only wanted a future with one person.

Brock’s nerves were out of control as he drove to Anders’ home, getting halfway there before he realized that hadn’t looked in a mirror all day and had no idea what he even looked like, so he made a pit stop at the nearest supermarket to freshen up.

As he was leaving the restroom, he fell upon a familiar face: Noah Dobson. Noah greeted him with a quick hug and a short smile, and in that moment Brock knew that he knew.

“Hey, man, it’s good to see you. What’re you doing here?” Noah asked, though Brock also suspected that he knew the answer to that, too.

“I just… I have to see Y/N,” Brock explained. “Do you… do you know where she is?”

Noah shifted on his feet, casting his eyes down. “Yeah, I think she’s… out tonight.”

“Out? Out where?” 

Noah hesitated, and Brock nodded silently to let him know he was ready to hear whatever he was going to say next. “She’s out with Mat. I’m sorry, man.”

“Mat? Mat Barzal?” 

“Yeah. She’s been spending a lot of time with him since… since she got here. She doesn’t seem good though, dude. Whatever happened between you two fucked her up.”

Brock cursed, running a hand over his face in frustration. It broke his heart to hear that you, too, were hurting, maybe just as bad as him, though he couldn’t decide what was worse: you being in pain, or you being over it already.

“Yeah, man, I know, I fucked up big time.”

“Yeah…” Noah trailed off awkwardly. “Well, good luck, dude.”

With a nod of thanks, Brock walked back out to his rental car. He could drive to Anders’, waiting awkwardly with your menacing big brother who probably wouldn’t hesitate to murder him, or he could wait it out. It wasn’t a difficult decision to make.

Brock drove around aimlessly, not sure where he was going. Part of him hoped he’d run into you and Mat, and the other part of him never wanted to see his face with yours ever. What were you even doing with Mat anyways? What did Noah mean by “spending time together”? Were you two fucking? Was it more — already? Would it be cheating if it was? Fuck, he just had to get to you.

Eventually, he decided to get out and walk around as a way to help relieve some of the pent up energy and kill some time before he thought you might be home. He wandered the streets, taking in the sights and sounds of Long Island. 

Then, he heard your voice. Your laugh, actually. A rush of excitement flooded through him, oddly mixed with a deep fear that resided low in his gut. He looked up right as you were walking out of the restaurant, laughing at something Mat had said. He was laughing, too, and Brock’s blood started to boil when he noticed Mat’s hand resting on your lower back.

It also happened at that same moment that the coffee he had grabbed slipped out of his hand, spilling all over the sidewalk, and of course, attracting the attention of you and your date.

“B-Brock?” you called, as he hastily attempted to clean up the mess he had made, trying to act nonchalant. 

He stood up, clearing his throat, attempting to act casual even though he knew how fucking crazy he looked flying all the way here to see you, unnanounced. “Hi. You, um, you look really nice.”

Brock could see the hesitation in your eyes, clearly having an inner battle with yourself about what to do next. You folded your arms, not wanting to accept his compliment. “What are you doing here?”

He sighed, the entire speech he had prepared flying out the window as his heart softened seeing you in front of him. “I had to come see you, baby. I need you to know I’m so sorry for what I said. I know I fucked up, and you have every right to hate me, but please just hear me out.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “What’s left to say? You made your feelings pretty clear, Brock.”

“No, baby, please —“

“I’m sorry you came all this way, but I think you should leave.”

“Y/N, please, I love you,” he begged, desperately searching for the words that would convey how he felt. “Please. I can’t do this without you.”

“Brock,” you said, your tone final, though he could’ve sworn he heard a waver in your voice. “Please leave. Go home.”

With that, you turned on your heel, walking the other direction with Mat. Brock stood, dumbfounded, numb, frozen to his spot, as he watched you walk away from him forever.

Brock took a breath to calm his nerves — it was more than just the usual pregame jitters; this time, he knew you’d be in the stands watching him. Or, watching Mat. Or maybe both? He didn’t know.

Once he had left New York, at your request, he was completely distraught. He returned to Vancouver hopeless, depressed, and a complete shell of himself, certain he had lost you forever. Elias came to check up on him the next day, discovering him asleep on the bathroom floor at 2pm, surrounded by empty bottles of Tanqueray.

Elias had heaved Brock up, forcing him into the shower and getting him some food and a Gatorade to replenish his system. He winced upon hearing Brock retching in the shower, and knew in that moment this was so much worse than he feared.

“Come on, buddy, I got you,” Elias grunted, helping Brock out of the shower, into some sweatpants, and onto the couch. “What happened, man?”

Brock recanted the whole horrible story, feeling his heart shattering all over again as he replayed the image of you turning away from him. He was sure he’d be haunted by that vision for the rest of his life, never able to forgive himself. 

“We’re gonna get through this, okay, brother?”

As Brock skated out onto the ice, he felt the familiar adrenaline rush through him, though this time for a different reason than normal. He swore he could feel your eyes on him, and as he skated through warmups, his eyes darted around to find the familiar warmth of yours. It wasn’t until he was about to skate off to head back into the locker room that he finally spotted you, eyes gazing at him. He offered a soft smile, which you returned.

After the incident, Elias had helped Brock to get back on his feet, bringing him to practice and, between him and several other guys, checking up on him regularly. What Brock didn’t know, though, was that Elias had (somehow) recruited Anders, and the two were working overtime trying to convince you to talk to Brock when the Canucks visited New York two weeks later.

Somehow, by some miracle, it worked, though Elias never knew that it was actually Mat who talked you into seeing Brock. You begrudgingly agreed to talk, less because you were ready to see him, and more because you knew that you owed it to him to hear him out. The arrangement was that you’d meet with him after the game was over, because you didn’t want to distract him from playing with his full focus. Joke was on you, though, because he could do nothing but play out every possible scenario in his head, completely distracting him from the game itself.

Still, the game was underway, and Brock was able to get himself out of his head enough to focus each shift, sort of. Right from the get go, it was a chippy game — or at least, it was for Brock. It seemed every Islander on the ice had it out for him, checking him and slamming him into the boards whenever they had the chance. He couldn’t help but notice that he was being attacked more than anyone else, and he had to admit, he admired their tenacity.

At the start of the second period, the Canucks were up by one, until the Isles scored to tie up the game, equalized by none other than Mat fucking Barzal. Brock grimaced watching the celebration, his eyes immediately darting to you, his heart sinking as he watched you cheering with elation. 

You continued to watch the game, torn between watching Mat, and the rest of your Isles, and Brock. As the Canucks entered the Isles’ zone, you watched Elias set up a play, winding up to take a shot, when all of a sudden your eyes were directed to a commotion on the opposite side of the goal. Gloves were flying, and there was a tangle of blue and green as you realized what was happening; Tito – Tito! – had dropped his gloves in favor of landing a solid punch to Brock’s face, delivering a beat down, keeping the advantage from the get go. The two men wrestled their way to the ground, punches flying.

Eventually, the two were broken up, and the adoration in your heart you felt for Tito was quickly shrouded by fear and worry as you watched the trainers run over to Brock, blood dripping freely onto the ice. He was escorted off, leaving for the rest of the game — which, at that point only had 5 minutes left anyways. 

Somehow, someway, the Isles ended up winning the game, 3-2, but you could hardly be bothered as you raced down to the locker room, flashing your visitor’s badge from Anders. You waited impatiently, anxious, for the guys to wrap up their post-game scrum before you were allowed in, seeing Brock with a butterfly bandage on his cheek and a tissue sticking out of his nose to stop the bleeding.

You couldn’t help but giggle a little at the sight, relieved that he was awake and seemed to be doing fine, and then he caught sight of you, his heart leaping through his chest.

“Hi,” you offered shyly.

“Hey,” he said, trying to keep his voice normal.

“How’re you doing?” you asked.

“Oh, I’m good, Beau got me pretty good but I’ll survive,” Brock responded, smiling a little and wincing slightly at the movement. “Have to say, those guys sure love you. Was a little nervous your brother was going to take off his skate and slit my throat.”

With a dry chuckle, you hummed, your heart fluttering at their display of loyalty throughout the game. You made a mental note to thank Tito, the unlikeliest of fighters. 

“How are you?” his question pulled you out of your musings, and when you looked at him he was glancing at you anxiously. 

You weren’t sure your voice would speak at this point, but you tried anyway, croaking out a quiet, “I’m good.”

He cleared his throat, attempting to swallow his nerves as the room cleared out. “You want to talk?”

You nodded. “I think I owe you an apology. I’m sorry for shutting you out like that when you came here to talk; I was just surprised to see you and didn’t know how to react. I know me leaving like that was… maybe a little dramatic. I just needed some time… time to think.”

“Oh, no,” Brock shook his head. “I shouldn’t have surprised you unannounced like that in the first place. It’s my fault.”

You bit your lip, falling silent, not sure what else to say.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry, for everything. I said some really stupid shit that I didn’t mean, and I know that doesn’t change the fact that I said it, but I just need you to know that I love you more than anything in this world, and this time away from you has only made me positive that you’re the one I want to spend my life with,” Brock said, all in one breath. “I’d wait fifteen years for you if that’s what you needed.”

You looked up at him, suddenly shy at his outpouring of emotion. It was redeeming and wonderful and sweet, all at once.

He took another breath, saying slowly, “But I understand that I fucked it up, and I’ll spend the rest of my life waiting for you.”

“Brock,” you spoke finally, your voice small. “What do you mean?”

He shrugged, his eyes cast down as he gestured behind you. “You’ve found the one. You should go be with him. I’m happy for you, Y/N. I really am. That’s all I’ve ever wanted, was for you to be happy, even if it wasn’t by me.”

“Mat? Brock, he’s not the one,” you said, resisting the urge to giggle at his dramatic speech. 

“He- he’s not?”

“No, Brock, he never was. We’re just friends,” you explained. .”Do you really think my brother would let me date Mat Barzal?” 

Brock shrugged, realizing that maybe he’d made a few assumptions along the way. Then, taking a deep breath, you added, “It’s always been you.”

The silence hung in the air for what felt like an eternity as Brock stared at you. Were you really saying what he thought you were saying? 

“Brock, what you said really hurt me, because you’re the only person I want a future with, so hearing that you didn’t want that was… tough,” you continued. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t still love you.”

“Oh, baby, I love you too,” Brock sighed, relief flooding through him at hearing those words from your lips. He stood up quickly to pull you into his arms, wrapping themselves tightly around you. As you returned his embrace, you could feel him shaking slightly, and you realized he was crying.

“B, why are you —”

“I just love you so fucking much, baby.”

“You are an idiot, but I love you for it,” you grinned, and the next thing you knew, he was kissing you like he’d never kissed you before. His lips pressed firmly against yours, like he was trying to pour every emotion he had for you into the kiss, holding you close to him.

Brock’s hands slid from their place on your back, one trailing up to cup your face, the other taking hold of your hip, as he softly ran his tongue along your lip before slipping it into your mouth. You sighed against him, the mood instantly changed.

“Back to the hotel?” you asked against his lips, and he chuckled, nodding in agreement.

“Unfortunately I don’t think I’m allowed to fuck you in the visitor’s locker room.”

#brock boeser fic #brock boeser fanfic #brock boeser blurb #brock boeser imagine #brock boeser x reader #brock boeser x y/n #hockey fic #hockey blurb #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #vancouver canucks fic

[totallynuwonhere]

Redacted-tober day 1: Vincent

I was gonna draw for this, but I'm tired asf. So we're doing summit headcanons or wishes since apparently it might not end well *knocks on wood*

-Before going in William will meet both Lovely and him outback to give Lovely their crown. Which HE will now be stealing from them soon.

-He will be introduced to Milo. They will hit it off. And they will have a contest strutting their stuff.

-Instead of dreading the constant greetings he has to do, he just turns them into open opportunities to show off Lovely.

-Ok ya'll know the "Please. We saved half the universe together, I think we're beyond you calling me 'sir'" Line from No Way Home. That's him and David. It doesn't matter who is who, it both works.

-Istg this man tries everything in his power to get a reaction out of Sam, every time he's conversing with some old vamp. Whether that is mocking his cold expression or taunting how he isn't the one in his position. (Sam gets payback dw)

-Ok so halfway thru the night, Tank and Lovely hit it off pretty well, both menaces, so it wasn't a surprise. Since Lovely and Vincent planned to dip anyway, they asked Sam and Tank to tag along. Yes it had to take some convincing but Samuel couldn't say no to THREE puppy dog eyes (I know only one of them is a shifter, but yk what i mean) All four of them went to Dairy Queen, Vincent originally driving before Sam made him pullover so he could take the wheel. Milo wanted to come but when Tank had proposed the idea to him, he caught a glimpse of David giving him a death glare, so he stayed.

#redactedverse #redacted asmr #redacted sam #redacted vincent #redacted lovely #redacted solaire clan #redacted audio #redacted monarchial summit #headcanons #redacted milo #vincent and milo will be besties and fashion rivals you can't convince me otherswise #redacted-tober 2023

[monsterpromxreaderforthesoul]

Realizing your trans while dating them (Ftm, will post Mtf later)

TW//slight mention of pregnancy (in a semi light hearted matter), crying, implied sexual content

Liam

baby boy is so so so supportive…in his own weird way. You tell him while he’s at your apartment for a study session it went a little something like this

“Hey..liam? i have something to tell you…”

he looks up from his book from above the rim of his glasses at you before noticing your pained expression and transferring his face into one as well before quickly shutting the book and sitting up to pay attention to you.

“What’s wrong…? You look upset.”

“Liam I realized something about myself, well more like i’ve come to grasp with something i’ve always known…”

he now looks Puzzled, what could you possible mean by that?

“I don’t Feel Right in my body…something is wrong with me where i am now. I don’t Feel Like a girl. And i totally understand if that’s a deal breaker for you and you want to break up with me.”

your eyes start to tear up and your composure breaks and you start to cry in your hands but before you can let out a genuine sob liam has wrapped his arms around you and you gasp from the sudden contact and you go to look up at him and he is smiling at you.

“Why on earth would i do a silly thing like that? You know i’m Bisexual right?”

He pulled away from you with a smirk on his face

“Besides the whole idea of Gender conformity and What a person can be is So mainstream”

You rolled your eyes playfully at your boyfriend, you couldn’t be happier at this outcome

—————————————

Daimen

He literally has gay dads, he’s so supportive of LGBTQIA+ people it’s frightening. Like you don’t expect this kind of proud and Kind nature from DAIMEN of all people.

“Hey babe..? i have something to tell you…”

you said fidgeting with your fingers

“He looked at how nervous and Somewhat pained your expression was and he got nervous”

“Oh fuck, what’s wrong?? Don’t tell me your pregnant. I’m not ready to be a dad yet!”

“NO IM NOT PREGNANT YOU IDIOT!! we use a condom every time anyway, where’d you think it’d come from?”

“I dunno, like a freak accident or something”

“Well no, i’m not pregnant but this is still serious”

“What’s wrong then…?”

“Well, I don’t feel like a girl anymore… to be honest i don’t think i ever did”

His posture seems to relax and he sighs of relief

“That’s it? I thought something was wrong you scared the shut out of me”

“Wha- But arent you straight?”

“HAH- That’s funny babe. I’m attracted to you regardless of your gender. I think your awesome and i love being around you”

“Awww thanks Babe!~”

he then opens the window and shouts out to the world

“WHOOOOOO!!! I HAVE A BOYFRIENDDDD!!”

and you both know that somewhere in hell daimens dads are smiling

—————————

Calculestor

You told him at Camp Spooky when you were walking in the woods back from the meteor shower you had just watched together 

“Hey Cal..? Can we Talk?”

“Of course romantic partner Y/N!' what do you wish converse about?”

“Well What do you know about Gender Identity?”

“Ah in My hard drive i have memories of talking with Friend Milo about that topic. They mentioned that they are in fact a ‘non-binary’ and in Fact use they/them pronouns, After that i conducted a data search on the web and found out there was a plethora of others and labels for people who have a different perception of self from their biological sex. Why do you ask?”

“well i believe im somewhere on that spectrum you just mentioned..”

“oh my, Are you saying that you are transgender?”

“Yes i am…are you okay with that?”

“Of course! I am attracted to you romantically regardless of your biological sex, you have done that for me being that i have no Sexual reproductive parts. So of course i see no issue, what would you like me to refer to you as?”

———————-

Scott

You told him in a motel on the road-trip you went on with polly, she was in a separate room since we were able to afford 2 and since you and scott were dating it was obvious you were comfortable sharing so Polly was super stoked to have a huge bed to herself

“Hey scott..? we need to talk..”

“Oh no are you breaking up with me??? did i do something wrong?? am i not a good boy??”

“No no no! nothing like that I swear, It’s just something i have to tell you”

“Oh, well then what is it?” he said tilting his head like a confused puppy

“Well Yknow how I’m a girl right?”

“Yeah? you’re my girlfriend!”

“Well i’m not so Sure i am a girl anymore…i’ve realized i might be trans..sorry if it’s a deal breaker for you and if you wanna end things i completely understand”

“What?? break up with you??? why would i do that when i just got a boyfriend! is there anything else i should know?”

————————

Wowee this took unnecessary long for me to write considering the last one was only like 15 mins 😅 i hope you all enjoyed this one! i’ll post the ftm version and nb version later

Peace and love! -Ghosty

pst follow my main @ghostygloom

#liam de lioncourt #liam de lioncourt x reader #damien lavey #damien lavey x reader #scott howl #scott howl x reader #calculester hewlett packard #monster prom calculester #monster prom #calculester hewlett packard x reader #lgbtqia #lgbtq positivity #trans pride #trans rights #transmasc #trans man

[vivwritesfics]

Hooked On A Feeling

Chapter Four - The Park

Daniel is a Formula One driver, but, more importantly, he was a single dad to a wonderful little girl. He wants her to be a normal little girl, to have a normal social life, so he sends her to daycare. That was where she met Milo, her future best friend.

Milo's mother was incredibly stressed. She worked so hard to provide a good life for her son. But then he makes a new friend, a friend who has a hot dad (ofc they fall in love)

1.6K

Single Dad!Daniel x Single Mum!Reader

i have literally no idea how custody works, so i feel like i've taken liberties with this

Series Masterlist

Y/N parked her car and hopped out. She opened the back door and grabbed Milo from his car seat, buttoning up his little jacket. “Excited, Milo?” She asked as she took his hand and walked him along the grassy park, to where Daniel and Olivia were.

They were in the playpark, Daniel pushing Olivia on the swings. Y/N opened the gate to the park (fenced off to stop dogs from entering) and let Milo walk through. She held his hand as they walked over to them.

Spotting Olivia, Milo let go of his momma’s hand and went running towards her. He jumped into the swing beside her and started shouting ‘push me, momma!’

So, Y/N followed him over. She said a hello to Daniel and began pushing Milo on the swings. It became a competition between the kids to see who could go higher, but the parents are more concerned about their safety than some silly competition.

After they finished up on the swings, Olivia and Milo went running over to the slides. Y/N and Daniel sat down on one of the benches scattered around the playpark as Olivia and Milo chased each other down the slide.

Daniel was easy to converse with. The more Y/N learnt about him, the more she liked to spend time with him. He was an interesting guy, had an interesting life. She was beginning to love listening to him talk.

Eventually, the kids remembered that they were promised ice cream the day before. They slid down the slide and went running towards their parents. Milo grabbed a hold of his mother’s arm and jumped on the spot. “Ice cream, momma!” He shouted as Olivia did the same.

Daniel looked at Y/N, wearing a grin. He grabbed a hold of Olivia, placing her on his shoulders as he walked out of the part. Y/N couldn’t do the same with Milo. She held his hand and followed Daniel out of the park. “Momma, I want to go on your shoulders,” he said with a pout.

“Sorry, Milo,” she muttered as she picked him up and placed him on her hip. “What ice cream would you like, munchkin?”

“Chocolate!” Milo shouted.

Falling into step with Y/N and Milo, Daniel tried his best to look up at Olivia, still on his shoulders. “What about you, Badger?” He asked, bouncing her slightly.

“Hmm.” Olivia thought about it like it was the most serious question in the world, like the world depended on it. “Cherry,” she said. “Wait, vanilla. Wait, chocolate.”

In the end, Daniel bought Olivia a cherry flavoured ice cream. She skipped along happily with it while Milo ate his chocolate ice cream. “Do you want one?” Asked Daniel, his wallet still in his hands.

But Y/N shook her head. “Thanks though,” she said as the two of them followed the kids along.

While they ate their ice creams, Milo and Olivia walked around the park. Y/N and Daniel walked behind them, hands swinging lazily between them, almost close enough to touch. But they didn’t, not yet at least.

“Okay,” Y/N began. “Milo said you’re a race car driver. Is that true?”

Daniel let out a laugh. “You mean an F1 driver? Yeah, yes, I am,” he said, his grin growing wider.

“Seriously? I thought Milo was just making that up to make things sound more impressive,” she replied. “Like, last month Milo told some of the boys in his class that his dad is a famous football player to try and get them to like him.”

Daniel laughed, but it was a sad sort of laugh. He knew Milo to be a lovely boy, one that didn’t need to make up such things for friends. But he continued. “I swear to god, I’m an F1 driver. Have been for years now. It’s why my parents sometimes drop Olivia off at daycare.”

“Okay, prove it,” she said. “Tell me everything there is to know about F1.”

Daniel laughed. With his whole body, he laughed. He held his chest as he stopped walking and placed one of his hands on his knees. But then he got an idea. A brilliant idea. “How about, instead of telling you, I show you? Take you and Milo to a race?”

“Seriously?” Y/N asked, staring at him. “You’d seriously do that for us? we’re basically strangers.”

Daniel nodded his head. “Of course. Milo is Olivia’s best friend and I know she’d love to have him at a race with her.”

“Holy shit,” Y/N mumbled under her breath, not loud enough for the kids to hear. “Thank you, Daniel. Seriously.”

He just smiled in return. Because, before he got to say anything, Olivia came running over, pink ice cream all over her face. “Daddy,” she began as Y/N reached into her bag to pull out some tissues. She handed a packet to Daniel, who immediately began wiping Olivia’s face with it. “Milo has never seen the Cars movies.” She turned her attention to Y/N. “How have you never shown him the Cars movies?” She turned back to Daniel. “Can Milo come over to watch the car movies?”

Daniel picked her up and placed her on his hip as Milo ran over, chocolate all over his face. Y/N grabbed another packet of tissues and cleaned off Milo’s face. He protested, trying to avoid the tissues (but Y/N got him, holding him still to clean him off).

“Well, Badger, you’re at your mums next week and I’ve got another race. But I’m sure, if it’s okay with Miss L/N, that Milo can come over the week after,” Daniel said, gently swaying her from side to side.

Y/N did the same with her son, placing him on her hip. “What do you say, Milo? Do you wanna go to Mr Ricciardo’s house to watch Cars with Olivia?” Milo nodded his head eagerly. “Tell Mr Ricciardo, not me,” Y/N said gently.

“Yes please, Mr Ricciardo!” He said, excitedly.

The kids wiggled out of their parents grasps and went back to running around, chasing each other and playing tag. Olivia chased Milo across the path and across the grass, with Y/N and Daniel never very far behind.

“Maybe we should swap numbers, now that our kids are best friends,” Daniel said, his voice somewhat nervous.

Y/N nodded. “Definitely,” she said as she pulled out her phone. Daniel programmed his number into her phone, taking a quick picture of himself for the contact picture, and Y/N did the same (minus the picture). It was to make planning out playdates easier, they both reasoned. Daniel even made a joke about sending Y/N and Milo some AlphaTauri merchandise for when they came to watch him race (but, it wasn’t really a joke).

“Can I ask a kind of personal question?” Y/N asked as Daniel handed her phone back and they began walking again.

“I love it when you say that.”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh. Daniel was funny and charismatic, always switched on. Y/N couldn’t help but laugh along with him. But then she asked her question. “Why is Olivia’s nickname Badger?”

Finally, a question Daniel was happy to answer. He was hyper aware as, when he began speaking, the back of his hand brushed against hers. “In Formula One, my nickname is the Honey Badger. Off the track I’m this happy, friendly guy, but on the track I’m vicious, like a honey badger. When my ex was pregnant with Oliva, my friend-“

“Another driver?”

“Another driver – he gave her the nickname little badger. She was the honey badger’s daughter, so it just made sense,” he finished, beaming. He loved talking about his job.

Y/N played with her fingers. “Can I ask another question?” She asked and Daniel nodded his head. “So, I remember you saying about your ex and the kind of things she does to Olivia when she’s there. Can’t you ask for full custody? Take her to the courts?”

It was something Daniel thought about a lot. His little girl was miserable when she was with her mother, of course he thought about it. But he knew taking her to court for custody of Olivia wouldn’t work, especially with his job. The fact that he was gone so often would probably be enough hand full custody of Olivia over to his ex.

So, Daniel told her this, in as little detail as possible. This was harder to talk about than his breakup with his ex. The thought of not seeing Olivia again was enough to send him to his knees, unable to breath. But he held it together as he talked to Y/N.

At the end of the playdate in the park, the four of them walked back to the car park. Olivia and Milo walked side by side, with their parents on either side of them. When it came time so say goodbye, the children held each other. They refused to let go as their parents pulled them apart.

“Good luck with your race,” said Y/N as she held Milo in her arms.

“Race? Momma, can we watch?” Milo asked suddenly, before Daniel could say anything.

Looking at Daniel, she nodded. The two said their goodbyes and got the kids into the cars, strapping them into the car seats and driving away.

Taglist (CLOSED): @biancathecool @rewmuslupin @prettiest-at-the-party @hellowgoodbye @cassie0sstuff @spideybv28 @andydrysdalerogers @aundercover @lou-bean28 @landossainz @purplephantomwolf @ggaslyp1 @layazul @phantomxoxo @minkyungseokie @gills-lounge @hollie911 @annispamz @lillians-world-is-f1 @cixrosie @notyouraveragemochii @charli123456789 @amalialeclerc @stay1strongbeautiful @tallrock35 @teenwolf01 @chiliwhore @darleneslane @sava207 @thatsusbitch @formulaal @leptitlu @angiesw0rld @yunakynn @landosgirlxoxo @msolbesg @cherry-piee @catmouseggy @bathedinheat @chanshintien @ilove-tswizzle @woozarts @evie-119 @trouble-sistar @mysticalnightenthusiast @lewisvinga @spilled-coffee-cup @starkeyellow @fxrmuladaydreams @viennakarma @radiator101 @lightdragonrayne @angelxxrose @millinorrizz @xemiefx @ellies-world61 @the-depressed-fellow

#daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo smut #daniel ricciardo fluff #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo x reader smut #f1 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula one #formula one imagine #formula one x reader #formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #dr3 #dr3 imagine #dr3 x reader

[stellaluna33]

Ok, ok, I just had a Thought. And it's COMPLETE speculation, so nobody should take this a Fact or anything, but the parts that ARE Facts are: 1. It seems fairly clear from photographs and some interviews that Milo wore at least some of his own clothing (the jean jacket at least) for his appearance as Jess in episode 6.08. 2. Jess and Rory were wearing matching Converse shoes during their first scene together in episode 6.08. 3. Milo and Alexis were still dating at that point (and had been for several years by then).

SO (and here's where the wild speculation comes in)... the Thought that just occurred to me, that I can't stop thinking about, is... Did Milo and Alexis together plan the "matching shoes" thing for that episode? Because that idea is just... 🥺

#Gilmore Girls #Literati #Costuming meta #That would be so cute if that was how that happened

[sat0sugu-angst]

Introductions (A Fortunate Misunderstanding Part 2)

Check out pt. 1 here

pairing: prohero!bkg x journalist!reader

summary: four years before your awkward encounter with number two hero Dynamight after you were misquoted calling him "uninteresting", you and your brother were caught in the crosshairs of an organized villain attack by quirk-stealer Hijacker, and none other than Dynamight and his agency arrive on the scene to save you.

wc: 6.9k

cw: violence, reader has a younger brother, reader has an weak intuition quirk, pining and rejection

a/n: I really wanted to make things spicy this chapter but I needed time to build plot so there's minimal spice (sry) but next chapter will probs have smut so yay

characters aged up +25

MDNI

Four Years Ago

“You don’t have to take me, I can walk there just fine.”

You roll your eyes at your brother, reaching across the console to the passenger side to open his door. You were trying to be nice, though you did hate driving. “Shut up. You’ll be late since the train’s out of commission after that accident this morning.”

He sighed loudly, but got into the car. “Why are you back home, anyway? Your life falling apart already?”

You tried not to let him bother you, aided with the imagery of smacking him on the back of the head. “Just needed a break, is all. It’s not like I’m moving back, or anything.” You slid a glare his way. “No need to be a dick about it, Milo.” He chuckled. “Alright, we’re riding in silence now.” You muttered under your breath.

“Surprised you wanted to take me, is all. I know you hate it.”

You sigh. “I don’t hate the idea of you learning how to protect yourself.”

“But you hate the idea of me wanting to be a hero.” It wasn’t a question.

“It’s a lot more complicated than being a hero-hater.” You say, though it wasn’t the first conversation about this you’d had with your brother. It wouldn’t be the last, either. You just wish they didn’t happen so frequently. “I just don’t think heroes have civilian’s best interests at heart, and I don’t think it’s smart to just blindly throw our faith with them.”

“Heroes save people. They do good things, why isn’t that enough?”

You groan. “Listen, Milo, if having an educated opinion on the hero industry was as simple as saving people, there wouldn’t be reason to question it. But heroes aren’t as altruistic as we’re conditioned to believe. They have their own interests, their own ambitions and bills and lives of their own. They’re fallible, human people.”

“I just don’t understand why that’s a bad thing?”

You seriously weren’t expecting a whole TedTalk level conversation with your brother, and you were growing more exasperated and annoyed with his questions. What was he, your thesis? “I don’t understand why you care so much. It’s not like I’m going to single-handedly overthrow the hero industry. I’m not some radical like that hero killer Stain. I just think it’s important to stay critical, and not devolve into some fanboy who thinks top heroes shit rainbows.” He was quiet now, and you exhaled a breath. You felt a little bad calling him a fanboy.

When you pulled up to the dojo, Milo was quick to get out, grabbing his stuff and wordlessly waving before he disappeared into the building. As you pulled away, you sighed, hating that he was mad. You suppose you probably had been a little harsh, especially since he really did look up to the nation’s top heroes, like the up-and-comer Deku, who’d climbed to the top five just a few years after graduating from UA. But it wasn’t your job to tell your brother he could be just like him, or any of the other top heroes, it was your job to protect him, and occasionally shatter his delusions. Besides, he’d been the one asking all those questions.

It’s not like you just stumbled on the opinion and decided to pursue it blindly just to be a contrarian; you’d spent the last two years studying the hero industry. The way sponsorships were given, what heroes really had to do to become top-ranked, seeing all the ways heroes were praised for solving all our problems, when there were so many issues that could be addressed, but weren’t, because it couldn’t get a hero an action figure, or an athletic fashion collab, or an invitation to—

Thunder rang out, the force of it vibrating through the entire car. You cried out in shock, and looked into the rearview mirror to see rubble and flames in the place of the dojo you’d just left your brother in.

Your mind freezes, a million terrible scenarios running through your head, but you can’t focus on any of them. Your body continues moving without you, pulling over and throwing your car in park. Luckily, the other driver’s on the road are following suit, and you jump out of your car, your feet carrying you to the dojo before you’ve even really grasped what happened.

There’s no police, or even patrolling heroes around, and the street is eerily quiet, save for the sounds of rock crumbling and busted pipes leaking water into the street. Civilians surrounding the building are frozen, eyes flickering around the rubble, to you as you run inside with no hesitation, ignoring the lone warning of entering recklessly.

The storefront is all broken rock and dust, and you unsuccessfully suppress a cough when you step into the building. “Milo!”

He needed to be okay. You didn’t care about anything else; not the other people inside, not why this dojo just got blown to bits. He needed to be okay.

You can tell the center of the dojo took the most damage, the ceiling in the center of the room sitting in a pile on the floor, and you didn’t allow yourself to wonder if anyone, namely your brother, could have found themselves under it. “Milo!” You yell out into the quiet building again, panic surging when you don’t find him right away. He couldn’t have gotten far from the entry by the time the explosion went off. Where could he have run to?

You wonder if he’d run off after the explosion, finally getting the sense to call his phone. You hear the faint buzzing of a phone vibrating. You try to calm yourself, to slow the heart beating in your chest long enough that you can follow the low sound deeper into the rubble. When you turn the corner into what used to be a restroom, you freeze.

Standing in front of you is your brother, face pale with fear, as a knife is pressed against his throat. You feel the emotion leave your face, your muscles tightening as you look passed Milo and to the man holding the knife. “It’d be best if you just leave.” He says slowly, pressing the knife just so, so that Milo tries to shift away from it and there is no doubt that he’ll use it if necessary.

You curse your genes for not having a stronger quirk. Intuition. You got it from your mother, who had a scary sense of intuition, it was so good she might as well predict the future. You, on the other hand, might as well have been quirkless, for how well it helped you. You look at your brother’s face, you’d never seen him so afraid. You were afraid, too, body shaking with nerves and adrenaline. “It’s gonna be okay,” you said, focusing on your brother. You needed to believe those words were true.

“Please, go.” You are surprised by the way fear hitches his voice; the way he sounds much younger than he is. “There are other—” he hissed when the man pressed the knife harder against his throat, and a thin line of blood ran down his throat.

You saw red, imagining a million ways to kill the guy. “He’s just a kid; his quirk isn’t even that strong. Let him go.” You hoped the man would buy the lie.

“Nice try.” The guy said, turning his lip up in a disgusting smirk. “Is it a teleportation quirk? Pretty nifty, but whatever he touches seemed to go with him, huh?” He angled the blade of the knife for effect. “He’s the first one we grabbed, just to make sure he wouldn’t do anything…hasty.”

Your breath caught, and you fought back the emotion welling up in your throat. How long were they scoping out this place? What else did they know about Milo’s quirk? No, you couldn’t think about that right now. “What do you want with him?”

He shrugged. “Not really your concern, is it?”

You looked in your brother’s face for a moment, gauging the situation. At this point, unless a hero was on their way, you were both fucked. You couldn’t believe that right now, all you wanted was to see the gawdy outfit of some glammed up hero. But you’d eat your words for an eternity if it meant your brother would make it out alive. But as many promises as you could make to yourself, the longer you waited, the surer you were that there wasn’t anything either of you could do in this position.

The hairs on your neck rose, and a second later, you saw Milo’s eyes widen as he looked beyond you. Instinctively, you ducked, narrowly missing the butt of the gun aimed for the back of your head. You rolled out of the way, and in the heat of the moment, aimed your phone for the guy holding Milo hostage. It nailed him in the face with a satisfying whack!, and in the second that he pulled away to grab his nose, Milo disappeared. A sense of relief washed over you. “Get outta here, Milo! Call the police!” You shouted out, unsure of where he was.

People often mistook his quirk for teleportation, but it wasn’t quite accurate. He could disappear and move as if he were a phantom. Through walls, people, and objects while like that, before becoming solid again. So as long as he got himself to safety before shifting back, he’d be okay.

The guy with the gun was your priority. The longer Milo is in phantom form, the longer it takes before he can go back into it. You didn’t need your idiot brother to try and play hero to save your ass before he could get himself out. Looking behind you, you kick your foot out with as much force as you can muster, right at the man’s knee. He goes down, throwing curses at you, but you don’t have time to think that, or the way it gave out underneath your foot. He’s still holding the gun, and you lunge to grab it, panic surging when you realize that you were too slow, that he’s already aiming it at you, and you’re certain he’s going to shoot you, and your only hope is that your brother isn’t here right now.

An explosion sounds off, somewhere deeper into the dojo, but it's powerful enough to shake the ground, and a cloud of dust and rubble shakes the room. You fall to the ground with a grunt, pain shooting up your leg, but you’re so surprised to still be alive that you don’t bother to look at your leg. The dust has you coughing again, eyes watering as you try to look through the fog.

“What the—!” The man’s voice, who you recognized as the one with the gun, was cut off when another blast shook the room and a chunk of the ceiling came crashing down on top of him. Your only thought is to keep going. You see a group of figures in front of you moving around en masse, and you look around for a chance to slip away, pressing up before nearly crashing to the ground with pain shooting up your leg.

“Fuck,” You whisper to yourself, but you’re still determined to use the smoke screen as a chance to escape. Milo, you better be fucking outside right now, you think violently as you begin to drag your body across the rubble.

“Y/n!” You hear your name and freeze. God, if you both manage to make it out of this alive, you’re going to kill your brother. But before you can open your mouth to yell at Milo to get out, you feel his arms coming up behind you, lifting you up. “Can you stand at all?”

You try to bite back your anger, focusing on getting out. “I can’t put any weight on my left leg. I don’t know if it’s from the explosion or if that asshole actually shot me.” You spat out dryly.

You were hopping on one leg, leaning heavily on Milo as you both made your way to the exit. You felt the impulse to tell him to leave and come back for you with help, but you didn’t want to waste time and you knew your brother was an idiot who wouldn’t listen to reason anyway. As you neared the entrance, he shifted so you were both hidden by a large bit of rubble. You tried not to cry out in pain with the sudden movement, glaring at him before you looked around the corner to the exit. You wish you’d spoken your mind earlier, the exit was blocked by more men with guns. “Milo,” you whispered.

“I can’t shift yet,” he said, and readjusted so he was in front of you, with you holding on by wrapping your arms around his neck and shoulder. You were annoyed that he was protecting you, but didn’t say so because you knew if the roles were reversed, you’d be doing the same thing.

“How much longer?” You asked.

“I’m not sure, I didn’t time it very well. Maybe another minute or so?”

With a line of villains with guns in front of us, a minute was too long. Fuck. “You’re gonna have to put me down and make a run for it.”

“Y/n, stop—”

“No, they’ll chase after you because of your quirk. I’ll crawl away while they’re distracted. You just have to outrun them for a minute, and when you can, disappear.”

“I’m not leaving you.”

“Well, that’s our best bet. Unless you want—”

“Can you blame the kid for wantin’ to be a hero for his sister?” You both jumped, turning to look at the man behind you. Then to the gun aimed right for your face. Your blood ran cold. You didn’t think you’d get lucky twice in a row. “You wanna save her, Milo? Come quietly, and we’ll leave her alone, you have my word. Hers isn’t a quirk I want, anyhow.”

Fuck. “I swear Milo—” But he was already setting you down, and you tried to push off after him, but couldn’t fight the searing pain in your leg, and stumbled. You glared up at your idiotic brother. “I’m gonna fucking kill you.” You seethe, tears pricking your eyes.

He shot you a small smile, facing the man, standing between you and the barrel of the gun.

“Smart kid.” He says with a sinister smile. Then he’s grabbed Milo, gun pressed to the base of his spine, and they round the corner to face the rest of the villains. “Alright! Let’s move out. I’m sure the heroes have caught on by now.”

—————————————————

Bakugo was already pissed off going into the obliterated dojo. He knew should’ve prepared for an attack at any given moment, regardless of what they’d been told, and yet here they were, a whole squad of him and his sidekicks, taken off guard because the villains attacked a week early. If only that fucking train hadn’t nearly fallen off its tracks, he’d have been able to respond with better timing.

No casualties, no captives, a total win. He set off another explosion to enter the building from the rooftop, jumping down and quickly scanning the area. “Eyes, where’s the highest concentration of people?” He hissed over the coms.

“Head east, out the emergency door, there are at least twelve bodies, but I can’t see how many of them are hostages.”

Bakugo was already heading that way, skin itching to take out some villains. “Keep your eyes peeled for other civilians. And if anyone sees Hijacker, I wanna know immediately.”

He exited the building, spotting the armed men ushering a group into the back of a van. They hadn’t spotted him yet, and there were too many civilians to simply blast his way through the villains, and he rolled his eyes almost to himself as he shot off a smoke bomb.

He immediately heard a smug laugh on the other end. “Told ya it’d come in handy.”

He grit his teeth, running through the smoke to where the van was, punching and knocking out one and setting off a small blast toward the cluster of four villains, blowing them back far enough that he didn’t have to worry about harming anyone else. He picked up and dropped his shoulders, ready to take them here and now. “Shut up, Gizmo.”

He quickly finished off the villains, the smoke clearing enough that his rescue team could get in and evacuate the hostages. “Where’re the rest?” He asked quickly, heading back into the building. He wouldn’t stop until he found Hijacker.

“There’s another cluster near the entrance to the basement, though they’re blocking my reading so I can’t say how many there are. Five hostiles are blocking the main entrance, there are two bodies heading that way, at least one is injured.”

Bakugo took off. “There could be an exit from the basement. Flash, Muscles, get your asses over here.”

He turned the corner, running down the steps, finding the door already cracked open. The villains were probably on the other side. Hijacker could be there.

He blasted through the door, ready to go all out. He hears before he sees Flash, a sidekick with a speed quirk, but when the dust clears, there’s no one there.

“Eyes, where’re the bodies?”

“Hold on, Sir, something’s wrong.”

“Gina—”

“Sir, you need to get back upstairs. Bodies disappeared from the basement, and a new body has appeared near the injured. It has to be Hijacker.”

Bakugo lets out an expletive, blasting his way back up the stairs and making his way through the rubble toward the entrance. No casualties, no hostages. A total win.

When he comes upon the scene his eyes are scanning, taking in the situation, and strategizing. But he’s too late, the group of villains are no where to be seen. Only a woman, Bakugo could guess she was around his age, dragging herself toward the exit, yelling through tears. Too distracted to realize that Bakugo and a couple of his sidekicks had arrived on the scene.

He was beside her in an instance. Her eyes widened at him, and something struck him about the look in her eyes. Whoever the other civilian was to this woman, he knew he needed to bring them back to her. “What direction did they go in?”

“They split up. They took my brother that way with four others and the rest took off in the opposite direction.”

Fuck. Bakugo knew that Flash was probably the only sidekick fast enough to follow their upgraded vehicles. He took a single breath to deliberate, before blasting off in the direction of the hostage. “Rescue squad, head to the entrance to evacuate the civilian. I need everyone else on the other vehicle. Hijacker is probably in there. Flash, follow on foot and stall until the others can catch up with you. Eyes, you gotta be his support.”

“Sir, are you sure you—”

“I don’t need backtalk.”

There was a pause. “Yes, Sir.” He knew he’d have to fight with her about it later, but he wasn’t going to worry about that now. He refused to leave hostages.

—————————————————

You didn’t think you could face your parents at home, or even return there without knowing if your brother was safe or not, so when the sidekicks had offered you a ride home after your visit to the ER, you had them take you back to your apartment in the city. Your phone had been recovered from the scene, though the screen was cracked and the case destroyed. You didn’t know what to do with yourself, didn’t think you could work on the list of projects and assignments, or focus on anything seriously for more than five minutes. Not until your imagination was torturing you with terrible scenarios about what your brother could be going through at any given moment.

You turned on the news eventually, hoping to catch reports of a recovered hostage, but neither the heroes nor the police divulged anything about the attack. Headlines were only centered around the mysterious explosion at the dojo, number of injured and casualties unknown. It didn’t even seem like they were reporting it as a villain attack.

You had a friend who was interning at The Daily, a major news outlet. Well, friend wasn’t the whole truth. He was some jackass in your freshman Composition class who wouldn’t leave you alone, who was always asking you out. That is, until your friend Cara picked you up one day after class. He took one look at her, and immediately asked for you blessing. You felt only momentary annoyance at his quick stance change before you realized the psychic damage Cara could do to a man as self-important as him.

Little did you know they’d be such a perfect fucking match. Guess he’s got a kink for women who don’t want him. You couldn’t see what Cara saw in him until you saw them together, and four years later Shawn still annoyed you on a daily basis, though now he was a self-important jackass who had connections.

“Go for Shawn.”

You laughed a little at him. “You sound ridiculous.”

He continued as if you hadn’t said anything. “What’d ya got?” Must be with his boss.

“You heard anything about the dojo explosion?”

“Just that it was a coordinated attack, they won’t say who.” There was a pause, then, “what do you know?”, accusingly.

You smirked. “It’s my fish. I’ll write up something tonight. I’ll give you first dibs to the article if you show it to your boss.”

“You minx. Fine. I want it by ten. If it’s any good, guarantee it’ll be big news. Dynamight’s agency and the police are keeping a tight lid on the details.”

You sighed. Leave it to Shawn to give you homework, though you were grateful to have a distraction.

It did nothing to get your mind off it, but worrying about writing an article worthy of The Daily took enough of your focus that you didn’t feel quite so sick about Milo.

Two hours later, you were sending off the article to Shawn, a bit numb to the idea that this could be your debut as a journalist for The Daily, stomach twisting with still no word about Milo. Shawn called you less than five minutes after you’d sent the email to check on you.

“You should’ve said it was like this, Y/n, I feel like such an ass for salivating being the one to break this.”

You chuckled humorlessly. “It’s fine, you didn’t know.”

“They haven’t called you with any news?”

Sighing, you opened your mouth to respond, but the knock at the door cut you off. You froze, and your heart started racing wondering who would be on the other side of the door, what news they’d have. “Hold on, there’s someone at the door.”

You were on crutches, unable to put any weight on your leg. It took you a second to get to the door, and there was another knock, more impatient now. You raised onto your toes, looking through the peephole before gasping. “Oh my god,” You had to fight to keep from dropping the phone from between your ear and shoulder, working to get the lock and the deadbolt undone with the damn crutches. “Shawn, I’m gonna have to call you back.” Then, realizing how worrying that might be to hear suddenly, tacked on a quick, “everything’s fine,” before you hung up, pulling open the door.

You didn’t give your brother any chance to speak before you were pulling him in your arms, your crutches clattering to the floor. “You fucking idiot, I was so worried about you.” Rushed out of your in one quick breath and you squeezed him with all your might, deaf to his complaints until you were satisfied that he really was here and safe. He was banged up, mostly scratches from the scuffle and a black eye for resisting, but he was mostly unharmed.

“What took you so long? No phone call or anything?” You asked accusingly as he bent to retrieve your crutches.

“Well, the villains took my phone.”

You raised a brow, unsatisfied. “No one at the hero agency, the police station, had a phone?”

His ears turned red, and you thought it was because he was dumb enough to not think to ask, but then. “We actually…just got back. I wouldn’t let Dynamight take me in for questioning until I made sure you were okay.”

You stopped. God, your brother was so endearing sometimes. But you shot out a fist and punched him roughly in the shoulder anyway. He shot out an ow! in complaint, but you were unsympathetic. “You need to worry more about yourself, Milo. You could have died today.”

“You got shot today.”

You laughed coldly. “Yeah, because my idiot brother wants to be a hero.”

He blushed harder, and you furrowed your brow in silent question. He normally didn’t get embarrassed so easily. Then, “Does this mean we can get to the station now?”

You jumped, finally taking note of a massive figure standing five feet from your door. You looked straight into the crimson gaze of the famous up and comer Dynamight.

—————————————————

Bakugo was surprised when you didn’t immediately notice him, wondering how you thought you could’ve saved your brother if your senses are shit.

He’d asked the kid to tell him everything he saw; from the time he got to the dojo to when Bakugo caught up to the van and rescued him. Milo told Bakugo you’d rushed back to the dojo right after the explosion, he was shocked by how quick you thought up a way to free him from the villain long enough for him to turn invisible and get away while fighting a villain with a gun. As you spoke with your brother, Bakugo studied your expressions, how you scolded him harshly despite the relief of him being there. Noted how your brow quirked up when you were irritated, the soft set of your mouth. Bakugo thought you must have been skilled, but questioned all that when he saw how shocked you were when he finally spoke up. You hadn’t noticed him at all.

“What? You wanna come too? I don’t care, I just gotta get the kid’s statement.” He was annoyed; he couldn’t believe he’d let Milo talk him into taking him to see you before going to the station. Normally he would have just shut that down, tell ‘em to call once they’d gotten to the station, but then Bakugo recalled that look in your eyes when you’d thought he’d been taken. Maybe he hoped it’d earn him points. He was annoyed that he wanted it to, but more annoyed that it hadn’t. Maybe her brother was right; maybe she did hate heroes.

Forty minutes later Bakugo was standing in front of the chief of police, just finished with giving his statement and being reprimanded for failing to capture Hijacker.

“We’ve been planning this operation for weeks, and you blew it.”

He couldn’t deny he was as pissed about losing Hijacker, but “We were taken off guard. We arrested eight villains and rescued every single target.”

“You abandoned your team knowing full well you’re the only one who had the skill to catch up with those vehicles.”

“Which is why I needed to be the one to go after the hostage.”

“One civilian’s life wasn’t worth losing Hijacker.” The chief said from his chair.

Bakugo was floored by what he was hearing. “Well, I guess it’s a good thing the press ain’t here, huh? Can you imagine the headlines? Number four hero chastised for rescuing hostage by chief of police. You’re a fuckin’ moron.”

“Bakugo—!” He heard Gina scold behind him, but he didn’t care. If the asshole wanted to publish something about Bakugo’s abrasive personality, it would only be fuel to the fire. He’d still climb the hero rankings; he didn’t need some extra at the station to be his fan.

Bakugo turned to leave, and the chief stood from his seat. “Now, Dynamight, it’s not to say I don’t appreciate you keeping the people safe, but think about the weight of this operation; we’ve been tracking this guy for three years, he’s managed to capture nearly eighty heroes in that time, and he’s successfully stolen over a dozen quirks. You had the opportunity to bring this man to justice, but you abandoned your mission to rescue some teenager who probably could’ve used his quirk to free himself.”

From what Milo told him of his quirk, he might have been able to free himself. Maybe. But Bakugo had a sense of what the kid felt when he’d been taken. “I wonder where I’d be if All Might had thought that way my first year at UA.” He said, voice dripping with contempt, and sent a glare to the chief over his shoulder. The man set his shoulders, but Bakugo could tell from the look in his eyes that he was understood. He turned back to face the exit. “That all? I can leave now?”

The chief opened his mouth, but Bakugo was looking out the window of the office into the rest of the station, and he saw the two walking toward the exit. He couldn’t really explain why he felt obligated to follow them, maybe to prove something to the bastard behind him, but before Bakugo could hear what the man had to say, he was walking out of the office, striding in the direction of you and your brother.

—————————————————

“I don’t want to bug him, let’s just call—”

“Will you give us a ride home?” You look up to see your brother has completely ignored you and is facing the biggest man you’ve ever seen in your life.

And he’s asking for a ride home. Shamelessly.

You feel your face heat with embarrassment. He is such a fanboy. “Milo, not cool.” You hiss, and face the man. “I’m sure you have lots of paperwork to do, you couldn’t possibly have time.” You say with an easy smile, trying to ease who you’ve heard is an asshole as rude as they come. He already looked pissed off, you didn’t need him to hurt Milo’s feelings.

Dynamight turned to you, and you resolved yourself. You wouldn’t let this guy make you nervous. But then he was shrugging. “Gives me an excuse to get out of it. Besides, once the press start showing up she won’t want me here anyway.”

You must have given away your confusion in your expression, or maybe he only now realized neither of you would know what he was talking about. “My sidekick, she doesn’t let me do my own press.”

“I can’t imagine why that would be.” You said it flippantly, but you knew from the slight narrow of his eyes that he understood you were teasing him. He rolled his eyes, and you couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lip.

“Whatever, you wanna ride or not?”

You were shocked; was he really going to take you both home? Was this protocol? Though, you supposed it was his agency who brought you home from the emergency room. But before you could form an answer, Milo was already answering for the both of you.

You sat in the backseat, Milo taking the passenger, and he kept asking him questions about the villain, and only when I heard him say Hijacker did it click who we faced today.

You had read a little on the quirk thief Hijacker, that he would pick fights with heroes under the guise of a mugging, when they were off-duty, alone, and he’d kidnap them. It only recently came to light that he’d successfully managed to replicate quirks not just in himself, but in his gang as well. If they’d gotten Milo, he really would have been dead.

You were silently fuming in the backseat. How could he sound excited about it? If he’d ever had any doubts before, the day’s events steeled his resolve in wanting to be a hero. While you admired him for it, it scared you.

When you arrived at your parent’s house, you were going to get down with Milo and have someone bring you home tomorrow, but as you unbuckled your seatbelt, Dynamight asked for your address. You flushed. “Oh, it’s really alright, I don’t want to trouble you.”

“It’s on my way back to town.” Is all he says, looking at you expectantly for your address.

“You were just there, it should be in your history.” You say offhandedly as you close the door to the backseat, remembering just who you’re talking to as you sit in the passenger seat.

He’s hard not to notice, the way he takes up so much space in the car, how his muscles flex as he goes through his phone. “It’s not there, how do I get to history?” He asks, sounding annoyed already, but his expression remains neutral.

You lean over the console a little, just to see his screen. You hated how aware you were of the heat of his body next to yours, how if he were some guy in the library or at a lecture, you’d be drooling all over him. But he was a hero, he was a famous hero. You needed to chill out, and so you ignore the way just him being there makes your heart race as give him a few directions and he’s pulled it up. “Woulda been faster to just tell me your address, you know.”

You smile a little. “But now you have this wonderful life skill.”

He just grunts, but doesn’t say anything for a while. You bite your lip, wondering if you’ve hurt his feelings. Then again, he didn’t seem the type to easily get hurt feelings. Or maybe he was? You looked over at him to gauge his mood, but his expression gave nothing away. His brows were pulled together, but the set of his mouth was relaxed. Even his grip on the steering wheel was loose. “What’re you staring for?” He asks bluntly, and you blush, not realizing he could tell you watched him from the corner of your eye.

“I wanted to make sure I didn’t offend you.” You said evenly.

“What’d you care about hurting my feelings for? Thought you hated heroes or something.” You raised your brow, looking over at him. Now he did sound hurt.

“Milo told you I hate heroes?” He shrugged. “Well, I don’t hate heroes. They’re just over-glorified and more self-interested than what the population believes.”

“They? You mean me?” Then you stopped, realizing what you’d just said. To a hero. “Don’t have to be sorry if that’s how you feel.”

You looked over at him suspiciously. “You’re not as hot-headed as you seem in the media.”

He groaned. “‘Cause I hate interviews. The press only asks questions to get the answers that’ll suit their interests. They like me better when I’m difficult to deal with because it gets readers.”

You frowned. “The press asks questions to hear the truth. If you only ever act like a jerk in front of them, are they supposed to say you’re friendly?”

He scoffed, but before you could question him, he says, “At the end of the day, they’re as concerned with public perception as heroes.” You pause.

“Well, as a hero or a journalist, you make that decision for yourself whether you’re gonna have integrity or not.” You at least hoped that was the case for you.

“That mean you’re reserving judgement?” You turn to face him. He’d pulled to a stop in front of your building, and it was just about time to leave. Surprisingly, you found you didn’t really want to leave.

“For?” You asked, frowning. Your opinions on the hero industry haven’t changed.

“For me. Or do you think I’m over-glorified and self-interested?” His tone was curt, and you wondered if he was angry.

You flushed again. “Please don’t ever remind me I said that to you.” You plead. But he waited for you to answer. He looked pissed off, but there was something unmistakably docile in his energy, and you decided to roll with it. You looked away, sighing. “You saved my brother’s life. At the cost of your villain. I can’t imagine what position that puts you in, but I’ll never forget that you chose my brother.” You felt yourself getting emotional, the weight of that thought, of the danger your brother had been put in today, constricting your throat. But you didn’t want to cry in front of this guy, so you swallowed and looked up at him.

His expression was guarded, but he didn’t look angry. He was thoughtful as he considered your words. You couldn’t get over the contrast of his angry expressions and delicate features. He was quite pretty, you realized, distracted by the layer of dirt and grime covering him. You hated that you couldn’t deny how hot he was like this, and looked away. “Well I’ll take that as a win.” Is all he ends up saying in reply, and when you look back at him, he’s got a dusting of pink over his cheeks.

“Well, thanks again for the ride. And everything else today.” You said, wondering if, after everything that happened, this would be the way it ended. A polite farewell to top off the hectic villain encounter. “If there’s anything I can do to say thanks—”

“How about dinner?” He interjected, and you quickly looked up at him with shock.

“Dinner?” The word hangs dumbly in the air, and your brow is raised at him. “With Milo?” You hope the number four hero is not asking you out, even if a part of you wants him to.

He stops for a moment, and looks at you like he’s waiting for this to be a joke. You keep your expression neutral, because you don’t want to hurt his feelings with a flat-out rejection. Truthfully, you didn’t want to reject him, but you were confused. What have you spent the last year and a half dedicating your studies to? You’d just sent your first article to The Daily and you needed to make the right choices for your career. If you were spotted on a date with Dynamight, what would that say about you? Everything was so uncertain right now, you couldn’t risk everything you’ve ever wanted for a date with the sexy and explosive hero.

He sets his jaw, and you can tell his ego is bruised. “Sure. He wants to be a hero, right? He can learn from the best.”

You raised you brow. “You’re ranked number four.”

He curled his lip in distaste. “Yeah, well, I’m ahead of that shitty Deku anyway.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at him lightly. “My brother actually really admires Deku.”

He grumbled. “Well, maybe he’ll take the kid to dinner.” You looked over, wondering if he was serious, but Dynamight looked more like he was pouting than actually angry. “I’ll have my sidekick reach out to set up a meeting.”

You smiled softly at him. For all his grumbling, he was mostly harmless. “I really do appreciate everything.” You said, and there was a strong urge to reach over and rest your hand over his on the gear shift. You clenched your hands into fists, fighting the impulse. You quickly move to unbuckle your seatbelt and clear your head, before reaching to the back for the crutches.

"I got it." He says, already getting out of the car. You try not to blush as he rounds the car with them in one hand, and he helps you from the car with the other. His hand is rough, calloused, and you definitely blush realizing you're working to memorize how it feels in yours. "Well, thanks, Dynamight.” You said softly, avoiding looking him right in the eyes for fear that he'd see right through you.

And just like that, the taillights were disappearing down the street. You let out a shaky breath, wondering if you’ll ever see the explosive hero ever again, when you get a text from Shawn.

Boss loved it. He'll give you 10 cents a word for it. Wants to know if you have any updates on the case.

—————————————————

“I’m gonna kill you all.” Bakugo is pouting, swirling amber liquid in a crystal glass as he glares at his friends, who are currently laughing in his face.

“You got rejected hard, Bakugo.” Denki is nearly in tears, hand resting on Kirishima’s shoulder, who’s also laughing, though not quite as hard.

“Sorry, you’re right. It’s not funny.” He says, though he’s still chuckling. “So now you have to…take out her brother?”

“She was trying to be nice, give her credit for that.” Mina says from the couch. “Besides, that girl is the least of your worries, what with the chief of police up your ass about losing Hijacker.”

“Yeah, maybe if you weren’t concerned about getting your dick wet, you would’ve caught him.” Denki says, but immediately realizes he’s gone too far when Bakugo curls his lip in anger, lifting his hand and setting off a mostly harmless, albeit loud explosion in the other man’s direction, knocking him and Kirishima to the floor.

“It wasn’t about her; it was about saving a hostage. He’s just a kid.”

“You made your choice, Bakugo, there’s nothing to do about it except accept the fallout. Even if some people aren’t happy, he and his family are grateful for it.”

Bakugo recalls your earlier words from the car. You saved my brother’s life. So much happened in a span of a few hours, but he could still clearly remember the look in your eyes when Milo was taken, how it had spurred him to action.

Even though he didn’t get a date, he was content to know that he made the right call.

—————————————————

taglist: @asmaechan @animexholic @inumakicanrailme @justanothernpcartist @neonbubby @memariamsworld @iz-jayjay @xviternity @movie-enthusiast22 @ebonydumbslut

tysm for reading! If you liked it, pls lmk by interacting! Likes are always appreciated, and i rllyyyy love rbs/comments <3 part 3 is coming soon!!

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series masterlist ♡ pt. 1

welcome page

#bakugo x female reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugo smut #mha bakugou #bakugou headcanons #bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #bnha bakugo #bakugo katuski #bakugou smut #bnha bakugou #katsuki bakugo #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou #bakugou x you #bakugou x y/n #mha bakugo

[blutomindpretzel]

What if Christian and Sweetheart were secretly best friends? Like yes- he’s cocky for pretty much no reason, and he has the need to be extra competitive with Milo and Asher. But he has actual respect for Sweetheart, so he sort of finds himself gravitating towards them. (Nothing romantic- he’s just curious hush)

It started with overhearing Milo gloat to the other pack members about his “mate who’s a stealth investigator for The Department”, he just had to see for himself.

The difference between these two is- Sweetheart has a good reason to be cocky, they’re so fucking good at what they do. But they just- aren’t. And it makes him a little uneasy for a while. But once he starts up an actual conversation with them- he only has more questions.

Alright these two would be so badass together don’t act like they wouldn’t. And I have literally no idea why, but these two give me Jim and Dwight from The Office- vibes. Like- they mess with each other all the time, and are super competitive in their out-of-nowhere-rivalry. But under all of that is a deep understanding and respect for one another.

They have so much platonic chemistry- and it’s so confusing to the two of them. Sweetheart mostly resented Christian because of how much he teased Milo (and you know damn well sweetheart wasn’t having any of that bullshit.) But besides their need to always one-up each other, they actually got along.

They’re absolutely each other’s wingman don’t even ask (sweetheart helped him with date ideas for him and Amanda when they were still together, as well as comforted them when they split)

These two have matching red heart-shaped-sunglasses that they wear on the beach trip (which is also when Milo finds out they are best friends)

GOSSIPING TOGETHER (sipping margaritas or hot tea/coffee and talking over pack and work matters)

This literally puts Milo into cardiac arrest holy shit

Aggro hates Christian and Sweetheart thinks it’s the funniest shit ever

Calling each other “bitch” all the time

Three words: dance dance revolution matches, or just dance whatever’s your cup of tea

Watching Hell’s Kitchen together and making fun of everything (also watching romantic comedies and laughing at everything and everyone.)

Fueled by each other’s suffering

But also Sweetheart tackled Christian in a hug after Inversion (hiding tears in his jacket) yeah the aren’t kidding anyone, these two care about each other

Christian loudly gags or rolls his eyes whenever he catches Sweetheart and a Milo kissing or being touchy with each other (and just being sweet in general he hates it so much)

#redacted asmr #redacted sweetheart #redacted milo #redacted christian #redacted aggro #these two are best friends your honor #they hate each other so much but also would do anything for one another #the pack is so confused #angel and babe pretty much have the same dynamic #milos suffering #aggro has clawed Christian’s face before and sweetheart fell over laughing #David doesn’t give a shit just let him sleep

[dominimoonbeam]

The Truth In Your Skin - 7

The Tattoo AU continues!! David/Darlin, Milo/SH, Asher/Huxley

If you want to read it from the start it’s on ao3.

tags: angst, hurt/comfort, scars, reference to past domestic abuse, developing relationships, learning to trust, found family

The Truth In Your Skin - Chapter 7

Sweetheart had been living in his apartment for two weeks. There was no more talk of looking for their own place and Milo was happy about that.

They’d had a whole conversation about how to handle hook ups with a one-bedroom apartment. Sweetheart had said they’d go home with whoever if they were hooking up solo rather than bring them back to his place. Milo knew that made sense, but he didn’t like it. He’d never liked the idea of Sweetheart going home with a stranger, but he couldn’t really say that.

He’d planned to hold his tongue until one of those nights when Sweetheart was looking to leave the bar with someone and then make up some bullshit about going to Asher’s for something and say they could use his place. But that hadn’t happened. Sweetheart and Milo either went home together or they brought someone back together.

Milo had mentioned it to Asher and Ash had laughed and told him they were dating. Milo shot back that Asher didn’t know shit about relationships but Asher had smugly pointed out that even if he didn’t know much about the ocean, he sure as shit knew when he was looking at it.

Milo had been stewing on that the whole day at work.

He and Sweetheart had already fallen into morning routines. They showered together, usually fucked in the shower, and then got ready in that tiny bathroom together. Their things were all over his apartment, intermingling with his, and he loved it. He knew Sweetheart liked it too, because otherwise they wouldn’t do it. He could always trust Sweetheart to be honest like that.

Milo was startled out of his thoughts when Sweetheart jumped into the chair in front of him, the leather squeaking. “Hey! What the fuck you thinking about so hard?” they asked.

They were both between clients, voices and music thrumming from the main room, but the two of them alone. He smiled and rolled his stool up to the chair, his hand sliding up their thigh. “You.”

Sweetheart laughed leaning forward for a quick kiss, their piercings clicking his before they leaned back again, stretching in that chair like they didn’t know where that always sent his thoughts. He remembered every piercing he’d given them, always after hours, dragging it out. Touching, teasing, flirting, long before ever getting to work. “What? Trying to figure out how to get me out of your apartment?”

His hand flexed on their thigh when they came so close to his thoughts and yet so off center.

Sweetheart’s eyes widened a fraction, that lazy, flirty look vanishing. “Oh shit.”

“No,” Milo said, trying to cut them off.

Sweetheart sat forward, if the chair didn’t have a leg rest they probably would have jumped up. “I can get my stuff—”

“No,” Milo laughed, shaking his head and squeezing their thigh again, this time to remind them that they were not going to get out of this chair and make a run for it. They’d probably dash back to the apartment and start untangling their life from his. The idea made him sick. “No. That’s not what I was thinking at all!”

“You promised to tell me, you dick!” Sweetheart swatted his arm. “You said if I was overstepping or staying too long—”

“You’re not! I love having you at my place. You know that.” He laughed, leaning closer, his chest almost touching theirs. “How can you not know that?” He slid his hand over their thigh, between them and higher until he was rubbing against them and they were dragging in a deep breath. “After this morning?” he spoke lowly, just between them, under the umbrella of sounds in the other room. “After I fucked you into the shower wall and we probably woke up the whole building?”

Sweetheart twitched, one hand on his shoulder and hips rocking against his hand. “M-Milo… Seriously… You have to tell me—”

“I want you,” he said, hoping they heard all the certainty in his voice. “I want you in my life and my home and my bed. I want you in my shower and in your car and sometimes in the bathroom at the bar…”

Sweetheart groaned. “Do…Do you want to pretend we’re going to go get lunch?”

Milo grinned, brushing his mouth against theirs. “Where are we really going?”

Sweetheart kissed him hard and then shoved him back, jumping out of the chair. “We’re going around back and you’re going to use that mouth to get me off in the car. If you’re really fucking good, I’ll repay the favor…”

Milo groaned. Yes, life with Sweetheart was good and he honestly hoped they’d never move out.

 -

 “Just invite him,” David growled.

Asher whined, taking ages to clean up his station.

David was almost done with the piece he was doing on this guy’s shoulder. If he wasn’t working, he probably would have stormed out by now. Asher had retold the grand story of how he ran into Huxley last week and they hung out at some café until dawn at least four times today. David had, of course, already heard the story when he came home that morning and several times since.

Asher was in agony over whether or not to invite Huxley to the get together at the apartment tonight. Was it too soon? Was he supposed to wait for Hux to make a move? David had turned the music up to drown out his best friend but it hadn’t worked.

At least Darlin had laughed.

They seemed to think this was hilarious.

Everyone Asher had told his story to had agreed that he should invite Huxley. Finally, when he was done cleaning up and it was almost too late to fucking ask, Asher sent off a text. David thought his friend had waited that long to create the possibility that the other man couldn’t go because of some very valid, not at all because he doesn’t like Asher, reason. Like it being too fucking short notice!

“There. I sent it!” Asher declared and then slammed his phone down on his station like it had attacked him. He spun in his chair, anguishing.

Darlin watched, smiling.

David focused on his work, but didn’t miss the way Milo and Sweetheart ran off to go get lunch like their lives depended on a sandwich. Like they didn’t all know what they were up to.

David didn’t mean to catch Darlin’s eye, but he did, and to his surprise they shared a knowing smirk about Sweetheart and Milo.

Asher’s phone chimed and vibrated, somehow louder than the music.

Asher almost screamed. He rolled his chair up to his station to look at the phone without touching it, like it might bite.

David focused on the last touches to this tattoo and asked his client how he was doing.

“He’s coming!” Asher shot up from his chair.

Darlin laughed. “You really thought he wouldn’t?”

Asher spun around to look at them. “I mean, he could have been busy!”

Darlin raised a skeptical eyebrow.

Asher was the only one who didn’t see the obvious appeal of Asher. He didn’t have any trouble flirting and jokingly gloating about his own beauty, but David knew he didn’t believe any of it. And maybe that was the real reason he hadn’t really thrown a fit about Asher telling the same damn story over and over again, because this was the first time he’d ever seen him this bent out of shape over someone.

And it didn’t escape David’s notice that Asher and Huxley hadn’t hooked up—that in that first telling of the story when he got home that morning, Asher had been floored by the moment Huxley asked him to go get midnight pancakes rather than a quick fuck. He’d left that out of all the other retellings, either he’d realized what he was saying about himself and his feelings, or he’d only ever meant to tell David about it from the start.

David finished with his client. His schedule was packed today and he had the next one already waiting on the sofa in the front room.

“Do you want me to grab you lunch?” Darlin asked, throwing on their jacket. They smirked. “Actual lunch though, not whatever Milo is up to…”

David laughed, cleaning up his station. “Yeah, do you mind?”

Darlin shook their head. “I’ve got an hour until my next client. I’ll grab a bag of tacos and leave it in the break room.”

“Thanks. I’ll pay you back.”

Darlin snorted.

“Are you coming over tonight?” he asked before they were out the door.

Darlin paused, seeming to decide on the spot. They shrugged. “Yeah.”

He nodded and they left.

David felt Asher staring at him and when he looked up, sure as shit there he was grinning big. “What did Huxley say?” David asked, his friend still clutching his phone in both hands.

Asher jumped a little at the question, thoughts refocused. He hurried over to show David his screen.

Emojis.

Dorks.

 -

 Asher headed up to the apartment first that night. David still had a client in his chair and would be late, which meant Asher got to order the food.

Darlin followed him up and Gavin was waiting at the apartment door, on his phone and grinning.

He let them both in. Gavin didn’t take his eyes off his phone, walking to the counter and perching on a stool. “Can I invite a new friend?” he asked while texting someone.

Asher laughed, opening the fridge to pull out a few beers and pass them around. “Yeah. Of course. I think most of our friends came from you…”

“All the good ones,” Gavin said and then took his eyes off his phone to regard Darlin. He smiled. “With a few exceptions.”

Darlin shrugged. “I’m not good,” they assured.

Gavin’s smile grew. “That’s what makes you good.”

Asher opened the high cupboard and started pulling down the liquor bottles and sleeves of plastic cups and shot glasses. He liked the way their friends got along.

“Did you invite the big guy?” Gavin asked, putting his phone down and his chin in his palm.

Darlin nursed a beer and let Asher answer with a shrug.

“Ash…Do not tell me you chickened out again.”

“I didn’t! I asked! He might show up.”

Darlin snorted. “Might… He said he was coming.”

“I bet he’s coming… Coming all over that big hand thinking about—”

“Holy shit, Gav!” Asher shoved his shoulder. Gavin rocked to the side and accidentally into Darlin’s beer, bouncing it and splashing the front of their t-shirt which had the misfortune of being mostly white.

“Oh shit,” Asher rounded Gavin to grab a kitchen towel.

“It’s fine,” Darlin said.

“Sorry,” Gavin said. “Do you want to trade shirts?”

Darlin snorted at the tight, mesh top Gavin was wearing. “I don’t think yours would fit me.”

“I think it would fit you great…”

“I might as well just not wear a shirt.”

Gavin grinned. “That’s an option.”

Darlin put their beer down. “No, it’s not.”

Sweetheart, Milo, and their friend Lasko walked into the apartment, mid-conversation.

Asher tried to help with the shirt, but it had a big splotch of beer down the front. He could almost see the shape of the dark tattoo underneath. A letter?

Darlin took a step back. “I’ll go change and be back later.”

Asher caught their wrist before they could bolt. If they left, they might not come back. He would have absolutely fucked this night up for David and Darlin—or whatever chance there was of David and Darlin. “Wait. Just use one of mine.”

“Asher!” Milo called from the living room. “Did you order food yet? We’re dying.”

“I thought you had a big lunch?” Asher snapped back, smiling but not letting go of Darlin’s wrist. He looked at them again. “Seriously. My room’s right down the hall. Just take any shirt you want.”

Darlin hesitated before relaxing a fraction and nodding.

Asher beamed. Fuck yes! He had saved the day! He was on a damn roll. He let go of Darlin and pulled his phone out. “Okay, pizza from that place with the really cute delivery guy and this time we’re going to get him to stay. I can just feel it!”

 -

 David locked up the shop and went around to the front of the apartments. He wasn’t surprised to see Huxley there, a little confused since he’d never been to their place before. David greeted him and showed him up. He was nice, really nice, in a way that he couldn’t help but like for his best friend.

Their apartment was already in full swing when David led the way in. Music was playing and multiple conversations were competing with one another, but he didn’t miss the moon eyes Asher and Huxley shot each other before he headed down the hall to his room to change.

He pushed the door open and jerked to a stop, half in the light of the hallway and half in the shadow of his bedroom.

Darlin was there, one of his t-shirts in their hands and their own on the floor at their feet.

They both froze, staring at one another.

Even in the blue dimness of the room, he could see the flow of those watercolor tattoos stroking down one side of their body before his gaze snagged on the rough black lines of a tattoo that seemed to be carved rather than inked into the side of their abdomen.

His hand tightened on the doorknob.

It was…violent. It looked painful even though it was healed. Had the needle left scars? Was there any chance in hell that they’d picked that tattoo? That it had been a part of their plan? No.

He jerked his gaze away, snapping his head forward and almost pressing his temple to the door. He thought about walking out, closing the door, and pretending he hadn’t seen it. He could stop looking, but he couldn’t forget what he’d seen.

He hesitated, caught in limbo between the sound and joy of the party down the hall and the shadows in that quiet bedroom. “Can I come in?” David asked, voice hard in his throat.

Darlin didn’t pull on the shirt they were holding. They just stood there, their breathing a little fast but other than that, giving nothing away. “Yeah. Okay.”

David stepped into his own room and closed the door. He flicked on the lights and took off his jacket, tossing it on his bed, just like he might have if they weren’t there.

“I’m sorry. I thought this was Asher’s room. He said I could grab a shirt…” They looked at the one in their hands, hesitating over it now that they’d realized it wasn’t Asher’s and hadn’t been offered.

“That’s okay. Take it,” he said, taking steps closer.

They didn’t pull the shirt on, but they didn’t put it back either.

“This is what you wanted covered?” David asked, but he didn’t look. He kept his eyes on their face. He wouldn’t look again until they said that he could.

Darlin exhaled and it almost sounded like relief. He supposed he understood. They wouldn’t have to show it to him now. It was already done. “Yeah.”

“Can I take a look, or would you rather do that at the shop sometime?”

Darlin smiled a little, it was thin but lighter than he’d seen before. “You can look at it. It’s… Well, it is what it is.”

David tipped his head to the side and slid his gaze down. The lines were rough and rushed. They had definitely left scars in some places where the needle had stabbed deep. He almost asked when they got it but that wasn’t the right question because Darlin didn’t go into some shop and get this shit put on their body. Someone had done this.

They were still holding onto his shirt, the fabric twisted in their fingers as if restraining their hands from trying to hide the tattoo. They shifted, turning slowly so that he could see all of it. David clenched his teeth to keep from making a sound. Two words, not one, folding from their front to their back on that side of their torso. They would never have been able to cover it themselves, no matter how good they might be.

The words alone should have been okay, maybe even romantic, but there was no missing the message in the strokes of the ink.

ALWAYS MINE

He couldn’t read those words on their skin, carved in anger, without thinking of the scar on their lip and the one on their temple. It took everything he had to keep his breathing even and not ball his hands into fists.

Everything else he had seen on their body had been done by their own hand. It was all cohesive, one tattoo touching the next, evolving. They had had a plan, which only made this violation worse. David couldn’t help imagining that the guy knew it too. Had Darlin been unconscious when he did it? Was it after the attack that had led to all those scars?

They shuddered out a breath, still looking only at the shirt twisted in their hands. “So, yeah, maybe a big black rectangle? Just cover the whole fucking thing, you know?”

He could hear the tears in their eyes even when they choked them back—maybe because they choked them back, because they were forcing that light who-gives-a-fuck tone. “Darlin…” David said, still standing so close that he could have whispered and been heard, but he spoke clearly because they needed to hear this. “You didn’t ask me to do it because you wanted a rectangle. You make art. You are art. And someone fucked up your canvas. Let me help you put it right again.”

Darlin’s chin snapped up and their eyes were on him, swimming with tears and something so breathlessly fragile that he knew it had surprised them to find it still there. It was like coming home after a tornado took the whole house and finding one perfectly untouched glass sitting in the rubble.

“Do you want to talk about it?” David asked.

“No,” they answered fast, a flash of fear in their eyes.

“Do you want a hug?” he asked.

Darlin sighed, naked shoulders slumping in defeat and a tear sliding down their cheek. “Yeah.”

It was the quietest yeah ever, but David heard it. He wrapped his arms around them, his palms on bare skin, and pulled them into him. They leaned in and exhaled hard when their face was against his shoulder. “Fuck…”

He smiled a little at that single all-encompassing word.

They stood like that for a long time, his fingers tracing up and down their back and some of their tears soaking into his shirt. When they finally pulled back, they dragged a deep breath and scrubbed the back of their hand over their face.

“Can I touch it?” David asked, wanting to get an idea of the scars, ideas for the cover up already rolling in his head.

Darlin snorted, somehow easier with him now than they’d ever been before. “Yeah. It’s pretty bad. If you don’t want to work on it I’ll under—”

“No. I’ll fix this,” he said, certain.

Darlin shuddered out another breath on a wobbly smile and shrugged. “Go ahead.”

He ran his hand over their side. He wouldn’t trace the words—wasn’t even willing to see them as words anymore. They were just lines, a mess of lines that had no right to be there. Darlin held their breath until his hand had passed from the tattoo. “I’ll come up with some sketches. If you want to keep this private, we can talk about it after hours instead of when everyone is around.”

Darlin blushed, shaking their head and pulling his shirt on. It was too big for them, but it looked good. Or maybe he thought it looked good because it was his… “We can talk about it whenever. It’s…It’s not really a secret or, I guess it is? Just not something I meant to make a secret, if that makes sense?”

David nodded. “Sure. Not exactly something you want to talk about.”

“Yeah.”

“But if you wanted to talk about it…”

“Yeah,” Darlin said quickly. “We should probably go before someone thinks we’re fucking around…”

David shrugged, changing his shirt and feeling them sneaking glances at him. He took his time. “I mean, you are wearing my shirt. As soon as Gavin notices that, it’s bound to come up.”

“Is Gavin really going to recognize your shirt?”

David smirked but led the way back out into the hall.

The party was busy trying to talk the pizza delivery guy into staying. They’d lured him a few steps into the apartment. Asher was hellbent on making friends with this guy and Milo and Sweetheart were hellbent on something else entirely. Gavin spent a full ten minutes being gobsmacked when he realized the guy’s name was actually Guy.

And then he noticed Darlin was wearing David’s shirt and his eyes nearly bugged out of his beautiful face.

#tattoo au #redactedverse #redacted asmr #fanfic #scars #reference to domestic violence #darlin/david #milo/sweetheart #asher/huxley #found family #developing relationships #these characters are so much fun to write #i love romance! #hurt/comfort #definitely some angst #<3 #dominimoonbeam

[friendlyfaded]

tag game: ten first lines (fic edition)

huge thanks to @gingerbreadmonsters and @frenchiefitzhere for tagging me! i’m tagging @sealriously-sealrious @thesunandmoons-blog @themonotonysyndrome and @konnorhasapen (i have no idea who all has already done it lol)

rules: share the first lines of ten of your most recent fanfics and tag ten people. If you have written less than ten, don’t be shy and share anyway. 

1. Not Spoken, But Known (m. Darlin’, M)

You had finally found a lead.

2. Mutually Beneficial (m. Darlin’, E)

“You feed on sadism, right?”

3. Wolf Among the Dragons (T)

It began with a conversation, overheard in the marketplace as they picked up the potion ingredients Marie had requested.

4. No Rest for the Besotted (T)

Gavin had never been a morning person.

5. How to Manipulate Your Packmate into Pursuing Self Care (m. Darlin’, T)

“Hi, welcome to… uh… Dahlia Dog Grooming?” a woman said, staring with wide eyes at Asher, who smiled brightly back at her.

6. A Piece of Quiet (T)

Sam looked up when he heard familiar footsteps walking into the restaurant.

7. Being a Good Boy for Your Dom Shifter Mate (m. Darlin’, E)

“Y’know,” Darlin’ said, looking up from the bacon Sam had lovingly made for him that evening.

8. Take Your Mind Off Of It (E)

Admittedly, Gavin wasn’t in the habit of frequenting cafes.

9. This Damn Elevator Again (T)

It was at times like these that Tank regretted coming to David upon their return to Dahlia.

10. Family Can Be Scary (T)

When Milo first brought up the possibility of meeting his mother, Lasko hadn’t been sure what to think of it.

#redacted asmr #redacted audio #redacted fanfic #tag game #gendered listener #male darlin #damn i really do have a preference huh

[taanoir]

Milo finally talked to Nicole. He was nervous when he began speaking. Doubt ate at the back of his mind, what if she was mad and never wanted to talk to him again? What if he had waited too long? What if she thought he was trying to replace Jimmy?

"Hey hun, there's something rather serious I need to talk to you about."

Nicole's face was painted with worry, Uncle Milo never sounds like this.

Milo studied her face, she shouldn't be the worried one. "We need to talk about your parents, well really, about your father."

Nicole's face shifted from worry to confusion "He's been dead for almost 9 years, what's there to talk about?"

Milo could feel his face losing color and threatening to take his nerve with it. He ripped the band-aid off and blurted out "The thing is, he was your Dad but not your father. I'm actually your biological father." Milo held his breath waiting for her response.

The words hit Nicole like brick. Her mind raced, she had so many questions. Why had no one told her before now? Who else knew? Why go through all the hoops of custody? Her Mom and Uncle Milo, had a thing at some point, did her dad know? .... what the actual fuck.

She took a drink of her wine and began to gather her thoughts. The new information began to really sink in. Was she really surprised or was it the shock of it being said out loud? She thought back through the moments of her life, the one constant had been her uncles.

Nicole let out a long sigh that seemed to emanate from her toes. She wasn't mad, but she was still confused and a little hurt "why did you wait so long to tell me? Why didn't you want me to know? That would have been really helpful to know at any time in the past 8 years".

Milo was honest, that's all he could be "I didn't know myself until after your Mom started therapy. She made me promise not to tell you, which your Uncle Gene thought was a horrible idea. Turns out he was probably right, not surprising I know. I also didn't know how to tell you. You loved your Dad so much, and I didn't want to discount that in any way."

Nicole drank some more wine and let the information percolate. "So, do you want me to call you Dad or something? This is going to take a little bit to process."

Milo's eye went wide "No, no, no, no ... nothing like that. I just wanted you to know for medical reasons and because I have loved you since you were born, like a daughter, and you are in fact my daughter. You should know that at least one parent, even if they didn't know themselves, has always been in your life and isn't going anywhere. I was here because I loved you and I wanted to be here for you, the biology was more like a bonus level that I had no idea how to navigate."

"I've watched you hurt too much for too long and for that I'm sorry. I was scared I'd end up hurting you more by telling you. Then it was too long and ... I was just trying to work through my own fear and doubt, not an excuse, but that's why it's so late coming."

Nicole softened, a small smile crept over her face "I'm glad you told me, thank you. I'm going to need a little time, right now, I'm just surprised. No matter what, you're still Uncle Milo, I still love you. I still love Uncle Gene too. You both have been here for me, Tiff and Jen. We have always had everything we needed and most of what we wanted. You've been mentors, role models and parents with or without blood. This opens up some new things I need to look at and some old things I need to reexamine." She paused, "I do have another question, who all knows?"

Gene shifted in his seat "To my best knowledge, your Mom, Uncle Gene, me and now you. Though, according to your Mom, your Dad knew." Nicole's eyes widened, "Dad knew and you didn't. That had to be a rough conversation". Milo nodded "It was, but it also put a lot of things into context. If you have other questions, I will answer them as honestly as I can." Nicole thanked him again but she needed to sit with this for awhile.

This was the best case scenario Milo could have imagined. The two finished their wine and shifted the conversation to a Project Nicole was working on at the office.

#ts4 gameplay #historychallenge #childrenofcalisto #Gen 9