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mvybanks · 10 months

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false god

summary: it doesn’t matter how many times you find yourselves against each other, you and jj know how to worship this love. (based on false god by taylor swift)

a/n: the way it took me so long to write this that i thought it was at least 5k words…but i’m slowly coming back so i hope you guys enjoy this!! (i’ve been pathologically obsessed with this song lately so let’s all thank taylor swift for giving me the inspo to write again)

warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 18+, jj and reader have some heated fights, smut, p in v (it’s not really that much descriptive tho), oral sex (f receiving)

word count: 2.8k

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add yourself to my rafe taglist <3

We were crazy to think

Crazy to think that this could work

Remember how I said I'd die for you?

We were stupid to jump

In the ocean separating us

Remember how I'd fly to you?

Had your lifelong friendship with your best friend come to this? An endless screaming match with your favorite person in the whole wide world? That was what your life had turned into in the last couple of months after your year-long, fairytale-like relationship with JJ.

Your thoughts ran wild as you stared at your boyfriend who could barely turn around to look at you. You had always been everything he ever wanted to lay his eyes upon, but this time, he preferred the view beyond the window of your living room, not giving you the satisfaction of making him crumble under your gaze.

He had always, well before you got together, treated you as if you were the only star in every constellation; you were his sun and no one could’ve ever compared. It hurt to acknowledge the fact that he was avoiding you on purpose, which was why you knew you had to say something. After all, the previous fight you’d had happened for his own good. JJ was turning into a workaholic and you were aware of the reason behind this new version of him: he firmly believed that you deserved to get the most expensive gifts one could find.

He didn’t come from good money, that much you knew, but you had never expected, nor needed, the overpriced jewelry or the fancy dates from him. He was working himself to the bone and it was tearing you apart, especially because you barely got to see each other, which made his efforts the more futile.

“J, please. We can’t keep this up,” you all but begged as you waited for an answer.

“My only goal is to be able to give you everything you want,” he almost hissed, breaking your heart, “How is that a bad thing?”

You sighed, “How hard is it to understand that this isn’t what I want? I want my JJ, not whoever you’re trying to be right now!”

He turned around and got up from his seated position, and as his eyes fell on your figure, it felt like he wasn’t seeing you at all. He ran his hands through his hair in exasperation, shaking his head as he couldn’t believe to his ears. “And how can you even think that I haven’t been myself? I’m trying to give you everything but you’re not listening! It’s like I’m talking to a wall.”

“I am listening! But you can’t expect me to watch you work yourself thin to give me things I don’t even need. You’re all I need, that’s it!”

Finally, his eyes studied your face, your quivering bottom lip, the tear-filled eyes, trying to get your side of the story, your frustration, which gave him the final push to take that jump in the ocean and walk to you.

He couldn’t see you like that; it had been close to a week since this fight had been going on and his guilty conscience couldn’t accept the realization that your sadness had been caused by him.

You furrowed your eyebrows at the silent movement, until he stood in front of you, towering over your smaller figure before his hands fell on your arms, gently grabbing you. His thumbs rubbed over the exposed skin of your forearms, then he slowly let his forehead fall against yours and he took a deep breath, calming you both down.

“I’m tired of fighting,” he sighed, “This isn’t us. Let’s just work this out together, okay?”

You closed your eyes in exhaustion, unintentionally letting a tear escape and run down your cheek, which he was quick to catch with his thumb as he cupped your jaw in his palm. “Okay,” you whispered.

“I love you,” he said as he tried to understand the look in your eyes, “I don’t want these stupid fights to get in between us, baby. I can’t let that happen.”

Nodding a couple of times, you finally wrapped your arms around his torso and buried your head in his chest, searching for that comfort that he had always been able to give you.

“I just want to make you happy,” he mumbled with his lips pressed against the side of your head.

“I’m happy when I’m with you, J. I don’t care about the gifts; I miss you.”

He grabbed your chin between his thumb and forefinger to raise your head and make you look up at him. Bending his neck down, he brushed his lips against yours before whispering, “I miss you, too, baby.” Finally, he kissed you, mending your broken heart with one simple action.

They all warned us about times like this

They say the road gets hard and you get lost when you're led by blind faith

Blind faith

But we might just get away with it

Religion's in your lips

Even if it's a false god

JJ’s lips seemed to never leave yours as he walked you to your shared bedroom. He was under a spell, making it for him impossible to let you go as he held you in his arms. He was a soldier coming back home and no one was going to take him away from you, his home. Laying you down on your bed, he hovered over you and began leaving wet kisses down your body while his hands worked to get your clothes off of you.

When he raised his head once again to rest his forehead on yours, you placed your hands on his cheeks, breathing each other in as you stared into his eyes. “You know what people told me when we got together?” You asked as he brushed his nose against yours, enjoying the skin to skin contact.

“What?”

“That it was going to be harder because we’re best friends and we already know everything about each other,” you brushed some hair out of his face, “You wanna know what I told them?”

He hummed in response, a sweet smile taking over his features as he did so. “That that’s the reason why I fell in love with you in the first place. I would never change us for anything in the world.”

Your boyfriend didn’t waste any more time before he claimed your mouth, almost taking you by surprise from the force of it. He put all of his feelings into one kiss, showing you his appreciation for your words and your love, because at the end of the day, that was everything you needed from each other.

“I love you so much,” he tried to mumble between kisses, repeating the words like a broken record that you never want to fix.

And what was there to fix? Your love was enough to patch every wound.

I know heaven's a thing

I go there when you touch me

Honey hell is when I fight with you

But we can patch it up good

Make confessions and we're begging for forgiveness

Although you were going through trying times, his touch would always ignite in you that same fire as the first time, the feeling of his hands on your naked skin caused goosebumps to come alive and your heart to race against his pulse.

His weight was on top of you as his hips worked to get deeper inside you at a breathtakingly slow pace.

“Fuck, J,” you moaned out, the perfect music to your boyfriend’s ears as he rested his head in the crook of your neck. Your nails dragged down his bare back, eliciting groans of pleasure from him which egged you on even more.

He raised his head to look down at you, admiring your parted lips as his movements never ceased. Bending down his neck, he claimed your mouth with hunger, basking in the way you let out pleasured sounds against his lips. He held your body close to his, almost molding his with yours, which allowed him to feel every heartbeat and deep breath. He was close to shuddering when you let go of his lips to throw your head behind you and arch your back the moment he hit an even deeper spot inside you, and God, what he wouldn’t have done to have you like that all day long. Just you and him, like you both knew it was always supposed to be.

‘I love you’s were whispered into the night air while JJ’s lips traveled down your neck, kissing your skin repeatedly. When his mouth got to your ear, he gently bit down on your lobe; “I love you so fucking much, baby,” he groaned, and in that moment you knew that you had just gone to heaven with him.

That was your relationship with JJ: ups and downs, hell and heaven, feeling like you’re at the top until something pushes you down and you hit the ground. And yet, you were okay with it, because he would’ve never let you fall without him; you were in it together.

“I’m sorry for not being there for you,” he softly said as you lied in his arms, naked and covered in love marks: his favorite sight.

You nuzzled your head against his chest and attempted at getting closer to him, if it were even possible. “I know you thought it was making me happy,” you gently pressed your lips on his chest, silently telling him how much you appreciated the gesture, “but being with you is way better than expensive jewelry.”

Running his fingers through your hair, “So am I forgiven?” he questioned before his hand fell down on your back to caress your skin.

“Of course, baby,” you smiled. “I love you.”

And you can't talk to me when I'm like this

Daring you to leave me just so I can try and scare you

You're the West Village

You still do it for me, babe

“If you’re so tired of this, why don’t you just fucking leave me then, huh? Break up with me and make yourself a favor.” you shouted as you attempted to physically push JJ away with your hands.

Grabbing them in his in order to make you stop, he almost seemed angry as he tried to get closer to you, keeping your palms firm against his chest. “Look at me,” he said sternly and you obliged, staring in the storm that were his eyes, “Do you really think that I want to break up with you? That I could ever want to live without you in my life?”

“You’re not happy-“

“Hey,” he interrupted you immediately, “Who told you I’m not?” He took a deep breath, “Listen, I know we’re going through a rough patch right now, but we’ll get through it, alright? Don’t push me away, I know that we can make it if we just try. But I need to know what’s going on with you; talk to me.”

He leaned down to softly press his lips to your forehead before you decided to speak up. “I’m scared, J.”

“Of what? Let me understand.”

“What if we’re wrong about this? What if we don’t make it? I’m scared of losing you,” you admitted.

Furrowing his eyebrows, JJ looked down at you, concerned about your confession. “I want you to remember that I’ll always believe in us. You can try pushing me away, yelling at me, whatever you think might make me run away, it won’t work. I know we’re supposed to end up together and nothing will ever change my mind.”

You shook your head, unable to believe to a single word he said, “What happens when you realize that you deserve better? I’m a mess. My insecurities will always get in the way and you’ll get tired of it someday.”

JJ froze at your words; how could you have believed something so untrue? If there was one thing that he was absolutely sure about, the only thing that he would bet everything on, was his undying love for you. It broke his heart to know that you could ever even consider the idea of his feelings being washed away after he spent a lifetime worshipping his love for you.

He brought your hands to his lips, silently kissing each knuckle as you gazed up at him with confusion and gratitude written all over your features. Keeping one of your hands on his cheek, and pressing his lips on the heel of your palm, he guided the other one back to his chest, more precisely, on the left side of it.

“Can you feel my heart beating?” he finally asked, whispering his words as a meaningful look casted upon his face. You could only nod as you stared into his eyes and acknowledged the weight that the conversation had gained. “Good,” he continued, “because as long as it keeps doing that, I won’t stop loving you.”

You didn’t even notice how your lips parted at his confession, you were too busy pondering on what he had just said. “J…” you tried to softly call out his name, although your words had died in your throat and you were unable to let out any other sound.

“Trust me; that’s all I’m asking. You’re all I’ve ever wanted. I don’t care if you think you’re a mess; you’re mine, and I won’t let you go.”

With tears welling up in your eyes, you found the courage to speak again, “JJ Maybank, if you don’t kiss me right now, I swear to-“ but your sentence was cut short by the feeling of his lips pressed against yours.

Your hand fell on the nape of his neck, keeping him as close to you as possible, while his hands traveled down to your behind to lightly squeeze it before he grabbed your upper thighs to signal you to jump. Your legs wrapped around his hips as he took a couple of steps to place you on the first surface he could find, which was the kitchen counter.

As you moaned in his mouth, he caressed your exposed legs, then his palms traveled up to your waist until he slipped his hands underneath your shirt. He needed to feel you, to have you under him, to always remember what it felt like to have you, because he couldn’t bear the thought of you not being by his side forever.

“Don’t you dare try to make me leave you ever again,” he rasped against your lips as he attempted at regaining his breath, “I love you so much, it hurts.”

Rubbing your thumb against his cheek, you gazed up at him as your foreheads touched. You had never seen such a raw and pure look in anyone’s eyes before, except in his; that was his look for you and in the lifetime you had known each other, it had never changed. “I won’t. I love you, too, J,” you gently pecked his lips, “so much.”

We might just get away with it

The altar is my hips

Even if it's a false god

We'd still worship this love

JJ’s lips kissed down your exposed body, worshipping you and showing you that gentle loving which only he knew how to do it right.

The sound of your heavy breathing filled the room and urged him to keep going, as his lips touched your pelvis while he made eye contact with you. You looked down at him and only nodded while biting your bottom lip in anticipation, your knuckles turning white as you gripped the edge of the counter beneath you.

His hands caressed up to your chest, his thumbs lightly brushed over your nipples, causing you to stifle a whine for your whole body was aching for him; for more. Finally, his palms ran down your waist until they touched your thighs and then your knees, wrapping his fingers around them before he placed your legs on his shoulders.

“Gonna remind you that you’ll always be mine,” he murmured, almost as if he didn’t care if you had heard him or not; that primal instinct had already taken over his inhibitions.

Finally, he licked a long stripe along your wet folds, at which he moaned against your sensitive skin, causing you to mewl on top of him. His tongue knew every spot that made you cry and whimper from the pleasure, at which speed to move to make your eyes roll back and your lips to let out whispers of JJ’s names. He knew exactly where to touch you, kiss you, bite you, in order to make your head spin and let you release on his face as many times as you wanted.

Perhaps the next day could be the battlefield of another fight, causing heavy hearts and eyes full of tears yet again, but you both knew that it would end in each other’s arms, and that was all that mattered.

taglist:

@jjmaybankisbae @notslay-norcleor @poppet05 @solargazes @cindersnightmare @fairlymax @chaostudee @goldenroutledge @drewsgarfieid @taintedxkisses @uhcallmemommy @babypoguelife @screan @voguesir @vigilanteshitposting @kliness @gemofthenight @magnificantmermaid @f4ll-for-you @marzipaanz @sweetestdesire @guililove @freyawhitexxx1 @mistalli @shady-the-simp @fangirl-madz @one-sweet-gubler @camelliaflow3r @emery-333 @hallecarey1 @illicitfixations @dreamingwithrafe @maybankslover @jjgaybanklover @wildflwrdarlin @futurecorps3 @bxrbie1 @maybanksbabe @softcoremaybank @jjsbank444 @vivian-555 @jjfordays @highpope @livsters @starkeylover @peachpitlover @instabull @fishingirl12 @outerbankszn @congratsloserr @loveu-always @rentaldarling @embersfae @bee6r @one-sweet-gubler @savagemickey03

#jj maybank #obx #outer banks #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank angst #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank smut #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x you #jj maybank one shot #jj maybank outer banks #rudy pankow #rudy pankow x reader

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disasterarea-podcast · 1 year

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So given the writer’s strike, some people are concerned about their shows and movies being postponed or canceled, and aside from the fact networks have already BEEN canceling shows for no reason for years (I still maintain a healthy anger about what Netflix did to Sense8), I thought I would suggest some books on disasters you might want to read if you’re into that sort of history. Which you are if you’re here, I imagine.

Note: I’m suggesting these books because most books on disasters don’t get a huge audience, and so I recommend them because this sort of writing can be hard on the writer and requires a bunch of research. We throw so much money at true crime, we can spare a few bucks for the stories of people who died in disasters.

Also, please check with these with your local small bookstore or library. Amazon can be great, but let’s lend a hand to those who need us more.

Recommended books:

“The Circus Fire,” by Stewart O’Nan - This is one my favorite books on a disaster, because the whole thing creates a very vivid image of the circus prior to the fire in Hartford in July of 1944. There’s one specific line in the book which always makes me pause because it’s so affecting, about how everyone who escaped being able to hear the sounds of the animals screaming as they died - except all of the animals were out of the tent by then.

“The Only Plane in the Sky,” by Garrett Graff - This, I highly recommend you get on audiobook. It’s an oral history of the events of 9/11 with a full cast, and it’s incredibly affecting to listen to.

“Ada Blackjack: A True Story of Survival in the Arctic,” by Jennifer Niven - Ada Blackjack was a badass: flawed and weak at times, but hardy and steady when necessary. Half of her story is how she survived, but half is how she was exploited following her rescue. Both stories need to be known.

“Alive,” by Piers Paul Read - If you’re watching “Yellowjackets,” this should be required reading. If you’ve seen the movie adaptation from the 90s, there is WAY more you don’t know. The story of Uruguayan Air Force Flight 571 is a tough read, but a worthy one.

“A Night to Remember,” by Walter Lord - This is to disaster nonfiction what “In Cold Blood” is to true crime. It’s not a long read, but it’s a great one. Lord had the advantage of writing the book while many of the Titanic survivors were still alive and could give a very good description of what they went through.

“Dying to Cross,” by Jorge Ramos - I recommend this not just because it is good, but because it is timely. Nineteen people died in an un-air-conditioned truck as they were attempting to make their way into the states from over the Mexican border. It’s a horrific story, and one that humanizes an issue for whom some people need to be faced with the humans involved and what they go through.

“Bath Massacre: America’s First School Bombing,” by Arnie Bernstein - Harold Schecter also wrote a very good book on the Bath school massacre called “Maniac,” but I have a preference for this version. It’s a good reminder that schools in the U.S. didn’t just become targets in the last twenty years or so.

“Into Thin Air,” by Jon Krakauer - I feel like this is a gimme, but it’s a fantastic book from someone who was actually on Mount Everest during the 1996 disaster and knew those involved very well. I happen to like Krakauer’s work anyway - I even like “Into the Wild” despite my feelings about McCandless and his legacy - but it’s understandably my favorite.

“And the Band Played On,” by Randy Shilts - The one thing I will say is that Shilts’ treatment of Gaetan Dugas is *rough* to say the least and outright wrong on some points, God knows. But it’s still an amazing book, and if you come out of it not wanting to dig up Reagan and punch him a bunch I’m impressed at your restraint.

“Triangle: The Fire That Changed America,” by David von Drehle - The Triangle Shirtwaist Factory Fire is one of the disasters I am most interested in, and I would argue this is the definitive book on the subject. Also, if this book introduces you to both Clara Lemlich and Frances Perkins … I mean, talk about badass women.

“The Radium Girls,” by Kate Moore - Look, I’ll say this. If you know of the Radium Girls, this is a great book on their story. If you don’t know, go in blind and prepared to be horrified.

“Red Famine: Stalin’s War on Ukraine,” by Anne Applebaum - Ukraine has always been a target. During the Holodomor, they were victims of one of the worst genocides in history.

“Midnight in Chernobyl,” by Adam Higginbotham - Like the miniseries? This is a great source for more information for what happened at Chernobyl and all of the ass-covering involved.

"Boston Strong: A City's Triumph Over Tragedy," by Casey Sherman and Dave Wedge - If you’re interested in the Boston marathon bombing, I really thought this book did a good job of connecting the stories of the victims, the authorities searching for the killers, and the killers themselves.

“Show Me the Bodies: How We Let Grenfell Tower,” by Peter Apps - As I understand it, Apps did a lot of covering the Grenfell Tower fire for the British press, and it shows. He provides a mountain of information, and you will come out of reading this book absolutely LIVID about what authorities allowed to happen in Grenfell and so many other council estates in the UK.

“Dark Tide: The Great Molasses Flood of 1919,” by Stephen Puleo - I feel as though the molasses flood gets treated like a joke a lot of the time, but y’all, twenty people died. That area of Boston was *wrecked*. The photos of the devastation are terrifying. Puleo treats all of this with the proper respect it deserves.

“In the Heart of the Sea: The Tragedy of the Whaleship Essex,” by Nathaniel Philbrick - Forget the movie. Read the book.

“The Great Influenza,” by John M. Barry - Want to read about the 1918 flu epidemic? Want to be mad that a hundred years later we didn’t learn a damn thing?

Now, that’s just a start. If anyone wants, I can always post photos of my disaster book collection on Kindle and next to my recording desk. Or if there’s a specific disaster you’re interested in, I may know of a good book about it you can read.

But just remember if SAG and the directors’ guild joins the strike too - there is so much out there to occupy your time until they come back. Entertainment work is work, and it deserves to be supported financially and fairly as such. Rock on, WGA. ✊

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zaimta · 1 year

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I TOTALLY FELT YOU WHEN YOU SAID DR STONE IS LIKE A DRUG OMG its like my lifeline at this point

i was wondering if i could request a small drabble or headcanons for ryusui !! i keep having this repeating idea of him with a reader who’s like his childhood friend and ever since they were young, ryusui always tried to pursue them romantically but reader would always just laugh it off, thinking he was joking. but ryusui never gave up on his love for the reader!!

(spoilers for the treasure island arc)

but once everyone on the perseus gets petrified, leaving the reader (who had gone with the recon team to scout the area), reader starts to realize just how much they were worried for him, and especially when he comes back to them in fragments after kohaku smashed him. and the second that he gets revived, the reader is all over him and telling him how worried they were, and the second that the two of them are alone (maybe the team recognized that they were having a moment and let them have it?) reader confesses that they return his feelings and the possibility of possibly losing him helped them realize that? O:

male reader would be preferred (ryusui bi icon frfr), but i dont mind gender neutral!! :D

thank you so much for your time in advance, and remember to stay hydrated!! (expect more interactions from me, im literally obsessed with your works ❤️❤️)

彡zai says- the brain rot this gave me was insane back on my dr stone grind!! he really is a bi icon i'll never forget what he said to tsukasa (ngl i read it a year ago so i spitballed the lore lol)

paring: ryusui x male reader

warnings: SPOILERS BELOW THE CUT

ˏˋ«────── « 𓆩♡𓆪 » ──────»

ever since you were kids you were always the main thing on his mind. he was constantly teasing you and clinging to your side. as you got older it turned into him flirting with you and seeing how far he could push your buttons until you got flustered.

when senku broke him from the stone he was more focused on you than himself, he knew you had an impressive skill set and he used that to his advantage. even if they didn’t have enough revival fluid he brought you along anyways, dressing your statue so when they could revive you, you were ready to go.

when you came to you immediately fell into someone’s arms. their hold on you was firm but also familiar, and their scent was familiar too it was almost comforting. you pulled back to look back at them, and you were met with ryusui smiling down at you “i missed you.”

you laughed and gently removed yourself from his hold “i’m sure you did.” you didn’t notice it but his face slightly faltered.

his flirting was no better when the two of you were alone, as a matter of fact, it was only worse. the two of you sat alone staring at the moon, he spent most of the time staring at you instead of the sky “you’re so handsome, the way you shine in the moonlight is amazing.” you laughed again and rolled your eyes. you always assumed his flirting was just empty words, he was the human version of greed after all he craves everything the world has to offer and he does this to everyone.

“you don’t have to keep saying those things ryusui. i know you don’t mean them.”

he stared at you, no matter how many times he tells you he adores you or how many times he admits how he wants nothing more in the world than you, you never believed him.

at least not until the incident.

when you first laid eyes on his stone body you wanted to scream but you couldn't, the scream was barely louder than a whisper hardly a scream at all. it only got harder when kohaku brought him and the others back as fragments.

the second he was revied the team cleared out and kohaku sent you a knowing glance.

one the two of you were alone you immediately wrapped your arms around him pulling him into a hug "i was so worried about you, i thought i lost you." he returned your embrace and rested a hand on the back of your head pulling you closer to him "you could never lose me." he pressed a gentle kiss to your temple, and for the first time instead of backing away from his affection you accepted it.

you gently pull back from his hug to look at him face to face "i've realized some things."

he raises a brow "and what would that be?"

"how much i care for you, and how much you care for me." his hand moves to gently cup your cheek while his thumb gently caressed your cheek "oh? and how much do i care for you?"

"you've basically spent most of our lives trying to win me over, and every time i never really responded to them or gave you any straight answer. so why did you never give up?"

he smiled at you "that's easy. because i'm the greediest guy there is." your face slightly fell which caused him to chuckle "you didn't let me finish. because i'm the greediest guy there is i know there's no greater treasure than your heart. i'd stop at nothing to make you my boyfriend and to be yours."

#ryusui x reader #ryusui nanami x reader #dr stone x reader #ryusui x male reader #dr stone x male reader #dr stone fluff #dr stone x you #ryusui x you #ryusui fluff #ryusui nanami fluff

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nhl-stories · 8 months

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Rue – Clayton Keller

Summary: Ines has a bit of a dilemma, marry her ex-boyfriend or get deported

Author’s Note: I don't even go here but an anon suggested Clayton and I ran with it and loved every moment. This is obviously a dramatized version of immigration in America, while I tried to keep aspects as authentic as possible, I also took creative liberties to fit the story.

Also his mom's name is Kelley Keller and that is just so insane to me

Word Count: 9.2k

Album Series Masterlist

Don't wanna make it worse I'm gonna make it work

“What if you married Clayton?”

“You think marrying my ex-boyfriend for a green card is the answer?”

Ines doesn’t mean to raise her voice; Kat is just trying to help. But it’s been a long 24 hours and she can’t really control her emotions anymore.

“I think there should be reformed paths to citizenship. But that’s not going to happen in the immediate future, so I’m spit balling here.”

Ines flops face down on couch cushion and screams.

“I don’t hear you coming up with any better solutions,” Kat adds.

She lifts her head in shock, “You’re being serious?”

“Kat’s serious about what?” Nick comes back with drinks, his solution for comforting Ines.

“Nez should marry Kells for a green card,” Kat keeps saying it like it’s realistic.

Nick ponders the idea for a moment and shrugs, “It’s not the worst idea.”

“I’m just in a hellish nightmare, I’ll wake up and everything will be normal and everyone will be sane,” Ines rubs her temples.

Kat rubs her shoulder and nudges the drink closer to her.

Ines downs the drink and Schmaltzy passes his own drink before retreating for refills.

“I know it just happened, but have you thought at all what you’re going to do?”

“I mean, I’ve spent my whole life thinking about what I would need to do, it’s just never been so real.”

Ines feels a fresh batch of tears coming, she takes another drink to push them back. Nick comes back with a pitcher of drinks this time, clearly sensing where this night is headed.

“Didn’t one of your sisters have immigration problems?” Nick asks as he pours her a refill.

“Sort of, but it only came up because she was getting married and applying for a green card.”

Kat opens her mouth and Ines shoot hers a glare, “to the man she loves who happened to be an American citizen.”

“Yeah, well, you kind of still love Clayton,” Kat mumbles, “I mean you guys still have pretty regular sex right, Nick?”

Ines turns her boiling anger towards Schmaltzy, “Oh my god, he told you we were having sex?!”

“No, you told her,” he points towards Kat, “and she told me, Kells hasn’t said anything.”

“We don’t do it that often.”

She huffs defensively before squeezing her eyes shut, hoping to return from whatever alternative universe she stumbled into.

“I know the idea sounds insane but think about it, you have all these pictures of you two together, you never made some big breakup announcement or anything, and you still live with him.”

“I mean it would be pretty hard to prove that you aren’t together,” Nick adds.

“From what you’ve told me about this babe, marrying someone is the easiest way for you to get on the right track for citizenship without having to go back to Mexico, where you might not be allowed back.”

She knows Kat is right, that she’s making an excellent case, but that doesn’t make the idea any easier to swallow.

“There’s not enough alcohol in the world.”

Ines spends the next couple hours putting that theory to the test; she doesn’t process much, too busy preserving her brain in alcohol. She loses track of time, of what she should be feeling.

The alcohol makes her feel warm and giddy, but her brain is screaming at her to feels anxious and alert. The mix of the emotion just leaves her a sobbing mess, curled up in Kat’s arms.

Then she hears a shuffle at the door followed by Clayton’s voice.

“You told him?! Oh my god,” she buries herself further into Kat.

“We called him to take you home, we thought you’d prefer to wake up in your own bed.”

Nick is speaking to him in hushed tones and Ines is immediately suspicious.

“I don’t need you to marry me, arcilla, I’ll be fine in Mexico,” her filter is non-existent at this point but somehow, she can still talk this much through her tears and inebriation.

“What is she talking about?” Schmaltzy clearly didn’t spill the beans.

Kat sits up, cradling Ines off to the side, like she’s a child who’s not supposed to hear an adult conversation. Even one this pertinent to her.

“Someone found out she doesn’t have legal citizenship and he’s probably going to report her.”

“What the fuck,” Clayton feels every muscle in his body tense.

“And these two idiots think you should marry me so I can get a green card.”

“Oh.”

Clayton’s never been great with big emotions, and Ines’ tears mixed with her words has his brain frazzled. He came thinking he was just being the DD for Ines, not DD for Ines in distress.

“Nez, babe, why don’t we table this for tonight. Let Kells take you back to your own bed and sleep it off. We’ll start fresh tomorrow,” Kat gently moves some hair behind Ines’ hear.

Ines doesn’t respond, just stands up and follows Clayton to his car on wobbly legs.

The drive isn’t far, but Clayton still feels like he has to say something, anything. He can’t find the words; they aren’t his strong suit. So instead, he wordlessly reaches across the console and grabs Ines’ hand.

⁄⁄⁄

The sun pours through her curtains with a vengeance; telling her it’s pretty late in the morning without even needing to open her eyes. Normally, she would hate wasting most of her day away in bed, but sleeping is a nice escape; not just from reality but from the pounding headache she feels behind her eyes.

Ines flips onto her back and throws an arm over her eyes, debating whether getting up and eating something is better than sleeping more.

Clayton makes the decision for her with a knock on the door, he sheepishly pokes his head in before coming to sit at the end of the bed. Offering up a bag of food, which Ines greedily takes knowing it contains her favorite breakfast sandwich.

“You’re a lifesaver,” she moans after taking a bite, digging into the bag to grab the extra hot sauce she knows Clayton didn’t forget.

She looks up and chokes on her sandwich.

Clayton is holding open a ring box with a diamond ring.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“I talked to Schmaltzy and Kat this morning and you know, I think they’re right. Getting married to me is gonna be the easiest way for you stay in the country.”

“And ruin your life.”

“How will being married to you be that much different than it is now?”

He makes a good point. They broke up before the last off-season and he had offered to let her stay in his house since he would be traveling for a big chunk of the summer. Not worry about finding a new place while she got back on her feet. That was months ago and she’s still here, cooking him meals, cleaning up around the house, having sex with him.

The only real difference is she has her own room now.

“I don’t know, legal paperwork, maybe me being detained by ICE, you being shackled to me for god knows how long, probably two years at least. What if you meet someone?”

“I’m a professional athlete, I don’t think people would be to shocked if I cheated on you.”

Ines isn’t impressed by his attempt at a joke.

“This isn’t fair to you.”

“And it’s fair that you have to move back to a country you barely remember living in?”

He has a single-mindedness that no amount argument will sway. Especially while Ines is in this hungover state.

“Okay, Mr. Machismo, where’d you get the ring?”

“I– um– got it this morning, Kat helped pick it out. You know, need some proof this is real. And before you freak, I bought it with cash so there’s no paper trail or whatever.”

“Christ, you really thought this through?”

“You always told me it could be a possibility, so you know, I thought about what I’d do, especially when we were actually together.”

The look on his face makes her want to cry. He’s so sure; certain that she’s worth the effort, was worth having an escape plan for her.

“I know it’s crazy, but I’d hate to just sit by and watch you get torn away from your life when I could do something.”

“Okay,” Ines’ voice cracks, wet through the tears she can’t hold in anymore, “If you’re sure.”

Clayton nods, plucks the ring out of the box and holds it out on his palm for her; it seems too intimate or too sacrilegious for him to slip it on for her.

“I’ll call my immigration lawyer,” she twists the ring on her finger.

⁄⁄⁄

“Hola Ines!” Sierra, her immigration lawyer squeezes her tightly.

“And this must be the famous tonelada de arcilla,” Sierra grins at Clayton and shakes his hand.

“I can’t believe she told you that,” Ines grumbles as she takes a seat.

“Soledad couldn’t keep her big mouth shut if she tried,” Sierra moves to the other side of her desk, “besides I love your mom’s inability to understand American names, like Ashton.”

“Oh yeah, tonelada de ceniza,” Ines giggles.

“You’re saying I’m not special?” Clayton smirks.

“You’re very special mi arcilla,” she bumps his knee with her own.

“So, we’re here to talk about a marriage green card?” Sierra gets to business.

“We got engaged right before this, but now some asshole is threatening to report Nez’ status to immigration. So it sounds fishy, but we just want to start the process before anything happens.”

Ines nods with a tight smile. She was expecting Clayton to be here for moral support, not for him to take the lead.

“Okay, so we don’t know if he’s reported anything or if ICE will even investigate you. But since you work for a political organization that isn’t exactly beloved in Arizona, we’ll prepare for the worst.”

Instinctively, Clayton reaches out to hold Ines’ hand, stop her from fidgeting before she even starts.

Sierra looks at her watch, “we probably don’t have time to get you married today, but definitely can get your license today. It’s probably for the best, since this is kind of rush job you’ll probably want to dress up, have some friends as witnesses, make it clear this is above the board.”

Ines squeezes Clayton’s hand. Sierra is too busy shuffling through papers to notice any nerves, or maybe she’s just used to it.

“How’s that sound? Married by tomorrow, try to finish the paperwork in the next couple weeks?”

“Um- what about signing a pre-nup?” Clayton snaps his head towards Ines, “I mean I know it’s best if we have like joint accounts to show it’s legit or that I won’t end up on welfare immediately, but most people aren’t marrying millionaires.”

“You don’t need to sign a pre-nup,” Clayton sounds almost hurt at her suggestion.

Ines slips her hand out of his, “Don’t be stupid, we’re only moving this fast because of me, I don’t want you to be at any legal risk just because I need a green card.”

“I haven’t worked with a case quite like this, but a pre-nup might help your case that this is for the right reasons and not just for a green card.”

Ines starts chewing on her thumbnail, Clayton grabs her hand to stop her.

“I’m not your agent, but we can probably draft a quick contract of sorts that will say she will sign a post-nuptial and you can sort that out after with your people.”

Sierra then goes on a spiel about what to expect, what documents they’ll need, forms they need to fill out, the medical exam Ines will need. Clayton is trying to pay attention, but his eyes are glazing over. She hooks her foot around his ankle and tries to give him her most grateful smile, she hopes it doesn’t look too much like a grimace.

They find themselves at the courthouse the next day. Kat had insists they don’t see each other before the wedding, so they go in separate cars. It makes no sense since the foursome all knows this isn’t real, it’s all an act.

Kat stops her on the steps of the courthouse,

“You have your something old with the dress,” she gestures to the huipil her abuela had made for her mother, it was the only mostly white thing she owned, though it was mostly covered in bright colored flowers.

“And your something new with that rock on your finger, so here’s your something borrowed and blue,” she digs through her purse for a box with a pair of simple sapphire earring.

“You know it’s not–“

“This may not be your dream wedding, but let’s no fuck around with good luck.”

Kat looks like she wants to say more, but that’s not something Ines wants to dissect at the moment. She pulls her into a tight embrace instead.

Clayton and Nick are already waiting inside. Ines makes a silly scrunched up face that Clayton returns.

“Don’t be gross,” Kat nudges her, it’s when Ines realizes she’s filming.

“I honestly thought you were gonna wear a Gucci t-shirt,” Ines grins when they stop in front of the guys.

“I made him put on something with a collar,” Nick gives Clayton a playful shove.

“Aww he could have been your something blue,” Kat coos as Ines fixes the collar of Clayton’s steel blue shirt.

“But I still would have needed something borrowed,” she laughs until she remembers she’s borrowing Clayton, she drops her hands to her sides like they caught on fire.

Thankfully, the clerk calls their names, saving them from dwelling too long on that truth.

The ceremony takes all of 15 minutes. Ines all too aware of her hands sweating in Clayton’s as they hold hands in front of the judge. Picture perfect.

“By the power vested in my by the state of Arizona, I know pronounce you married!”

When neither react right away the judge speaks up again and winks, “now would be a lovely time to kiss.”

An awkward giggle bubbles out of Ines, but then Clayton is cupping her face and kissing her. She kisses back, and what should probably be a more chaste kiss gets a little heated. Ines likes kissing Clayton, sue her.

They’re broken a part by the obnoxious cheers from Kat and Schmaltzy. Both are flushed when they pull away, neither quite sure if it’s from lust or embarrassment.

“Now that’s how you start off a marriage, congratulations,” the judge smiles.

⁄⁄⁄

Ines is fidgeting with everything. She’s moved a vase of flower about twenty times, though it’s only moved about 1 inch away from its original place.

Clayton grabs her arms and pins them to her sides, “relax, it’s just your family.”

“Oh yeah, my totally calm, quiet, chill family. Nothing to worry about.”

“Your family loves me, we’ll be fine,” he lets her arms go and she immediately moves the vase again.

“Where’s your ring?”

She reaches into the pocket of her dress, “My mom will notice it immediately, I’ll put it on after we tell them,” she starts to turn before wheeling back around, “that we’re engaged they don’t need to know we’re actually married, I don’t want them worrying about immigration.”

Clayton nods.

“And where’s your ring?” she instinctively grabs his hand to look.

“You just said they shouldn’t know we got married,” he laughs at her pinballing thoughts.

Ines opens her mouth to say something but he cuts her off by pulling out one of his chains, the silver ring hanging off of it.

“Okay,” she lets out a sigh, “keep it in your shirt, arcilla.”

Ines moves over to straighten an already pristine tablecloth; all the deception is making her ill. She doesn’t want to tell anyone, but she knows the news will get out somehow, and her mother will never forgive her. She might not forgive her if she learned she’s already married.

“When are we gonna tell your family? We can’t just be ‘engaged’ for two years or so without them knowing.

“We can call them after probably,” he shrugs, his confidence over this decision clearly wavering a bit. Ines feels secretly happy about that, they’re on a level playing field.

The doorbell rings, the commotion of her immediate family barely muffled through the door.

“Showtime,” Ines plasters on a big smile.

The family stumbles in, a cacophony of Spanish follows as they all speak over each other to greet Ines and pass off food.

“Clayton, mi amor,” Ines’ mom cups his face and kisses him all over before pulling him into a tight embrace, “I knew you two would figure it out.”

“Yeah, I’m glad we did.”

He takes some food and follows Ines to the kitchen as she gives directions to her family in Spanish. They’ve been together long enough he recognizes some of it, but he feels bad for never trying to learn Spanish in earnest.

One of her sisters, Teresa, is pouring shots of tequila. Ines smirks at him and is about to comment when a small body rams into him.

“Clayton! Look I lost a tooth at hockey,” Ines’ niece, Marisol smiles to show off the gap.

“She didn’t lose it during a game, she lost it shooting in our driveway,” her twin brother Mateo sneers.

“You’re just mad you have all your teeth still,” she sticks her tongue out.

“You know when you get adult teeth you want to keep them all, even as a hockey player,” Ines butts in.

“Whatever tia,” the little girl rolls her eyes and gets a scoff back from her aunt.

“The new season just started, how’s the new gear?” Clayton changes the subject.

“I don’t have to wear three pairs of socks in my skates anymore, and the sticks are so nice.” Mateo’s eyes gleam with excitement.

“Maybe later we can shoot around a bit,” Clayton smiles back.

The twins cheer at the idea before running off to tell their mom.

“You bought them gear for their new season?” Ines furrows her brows.

“Yeah, I have my connections,” he tries to play it off.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“No, but last season they had all that hand-me-down gear, it was literally the least I could do for getting them into the sport in the first place.

Ines nods.

“Lovebirds, we’re taking shots in your honor,” Teresa calls them over to the rest of the adults and hands them cups.

“¡Arriba, abajo, al centro y pa’dentro!”

The tequila goes down smooth, relaxing her enough to rip off the band aid.

“Well, we have something else for you to cheers,” Ines leans into Clayton’s side before reaching into her pocket and putting on the ring, “we’re engaged.”

There are screams, hugs, kisses, and even some tears. Ines feels the alcohol going to her head far faster than it should. Another glass being thrust into hand and another toast.

“Felicidades mija,” Ines’ dad brings her in close.

He’s a man of few words, partially because he never really learned the language of his new country. Those two simple words and the joy in his eyes makes Ines want to weep. He turns to Clayton, placing a strong hand on his shoulder and holding his other hand out.

“Bienvenido a nuestro familia.”

“Uh, gracias Hector, soy muy um–“ he leans over to Ines “how do I say I’m very excited?”

“Está muy emocionado, papi.”

“¡Más tequila!” He shouts and the family cheers.

“He’s happy for us, right? Not trying to kill me?” Clayton ribs Ines.

“I think this might be a test, if you die you wouldn’t have fit in anyway,” she smiles back.

“So, when are you going to get pregnant, mija?”

“Jesucristo mamí,” Ines furiously blushes, “couldn’t you have at least asked that in Spanish?”

“It takes both of you, I thought he should understand too.”

Her family is a little less embarrassing the rest of the party, they genuinely seem excited for Clayton to join the family. Her niece and nephew ask if Clayton is finally their real tio while she watches them pass around a ball on the sport court in the backyard.

Her heart aches with the truth.

It’s keeping her up in her bed. Usually, after that much tequila she’d be asleep within minutes, but there’s too much going on in her brain.

Her door creaks open and Clayton creeps into the room.

“How drunk are you still?” Ines tries to suppress the smile in her voice as Clayton clumsily crawls into the bed.

He merely grunts in response and moves around to get comfy.

“And you’re in here why?”

“I think the air conditioner isn’t getting into my room,” he mumbles and drapes an arm over Ines, burrowing his head into neck.

He can’t see her epic eye roll; she knows the air conditioner is probably fine and there are two other guest rooms he could use.

“You don’t have to lie, I know you like to cuddle when you’re drunk, babe.”

She winces at her casual use of a pet name, feels Clayton freeze for a second too.

She runs a hand through his hair until he relaxes again, “since my family tried to poison you, I’ll make you a hangover-approved breakfast before practice tomorrow.”

He hums in response, breath evening out until he’s asleep.

Ines is quick to follow, the weight of his arm a grounding comfort.

⁄⁄⁄

A month into the regular season and Ines still hasn’t been to a game. Kat warned her some of the significant others were starting to talk. Rumors of her breaking up with Clayton before the off-season had been swirling around. Sure, those rumors were true, but there was no concrete reason to believe them until her recent absence.

From what Ines heard about other teams, this group wasn’t particularly cliquey or gossipy. But sometimes that meant when there was something to talk about, they were hyper-focused. And that seems to be the situation now.

So being the girlfriend/fiancée/wife/whatever the hell she is to a member of team leadership, she invited the group over for dinner and drinks to watch an away game.

In actuality, it comes at the perfect time. Ines likes planning and organizing and it’s the perfect way to keep her mind off everything else. The most pressing being that Clayton is in St. Louis and made her promise to Facetime with him and his parents after the game. Keeping up appearances when she didn’t travel for the first game with her future in-laws.

Coming in at a close second is the fact the Blues are playing in town the day before Thanksgiving, so his mom thought it was a great time to visit for the holiday. Especially since Ines couldn’t make it out to Missouri this trip.

She’s already nauseous at the thought of moving her stuff back into the master bedroom, hiding all evidence of the truth. For now, the door is locked, so no nosy and/or drunk women pop in tonight.

“Pour yourself a drink and sit the fuck down Nez, the game is about to start,” Kat warns from her spot on the couch.

Ines stops organizing the growing pile of mail and rolls her shoulders back. She grabs a new bottle wine, knowing this group has already emptied the ones on the table before the anthem is even finished. She settles in the middle of the couch and cuddles into Kat’s side.

It’s nice to be back with a group of friends. Ines always gets lonely in the summer when most of them go back home and she’s stuck here, but this summer had been especially brutal.

“Ines, what the hell is that?” Claire shouts moments after puck drop.

Ines’ eyes dart around the room, looking for a scorpion or something that made it into the house.

“The ring on your finger!” Claire is grabbing her hand; the game is quickly forgotten in favor of this.

“Clayton proposed,” she feels her mouth attempt to smile, but it feels all wrong.

“Finally!” Someone cheers from behind her and the rest of the group seems to concur.

She didn’t mean to leave the ring on, it still feels so bulky and foreign. But she’s trying to at least wear it to work, so it doesn’t seem like some secret green card relationship. Though maybe keeping it from the WAGs makes it seem like a dirty secret.

In her mind it’s easier to cut and run from work acquaintances if this all blows up in her face. Clayton is stuck with most of these people, and Ines can’t imagine hurting him when he’s being so kind.

“Look how red she’s turning, no wonder she was staying away from us, Nez hates the spotlight,” Claire laughs.

“How did it happen?”

Ines wants to melt into the couch.

“Nothing special, he just brought me my favorite hangover breakfast and proposed while I was still in bed,” she shrugs, not wanting to lie more than necessary.

“Makes it convenient if you’re already in bed,” Kat waggles her eyebrows and Ines punches her arm.

“He knows I wouldn’t have accepted anything that wasn’t lowkey.”

“Yeah, except that gorgeous diamond, good work Kells,” Claire adds, giving the ring one last look before the action onscreen grabs back their attention.

Ines is a little wine drunk by the time the ladies clear out. Her face feels flushed and warm as she tries to clean up wine glasses and plates.

There’s one bottle with a little wine left and she pours herself another glass while she waits for Clayton to call. She starts to go through the mail she tossed aside before the game. A reminder for a dentist appointment, a credit card statement, a letter asking to go paperless for billing.

Her phone starts to buzz against the kitchen island, she answers the Facetime wishing it were a phone call instead.

“Hi arcilla, you played well tonight,” she’s actually not positive he played well, she mostly drank and caught up with her friends.

She looks down to the mail again, an official looking envelope addressed to her stares back at her.

“You, okay?”

“Yeah, sorry I’m a little tipsy,” she holds up her glass of wine for him to see.

“You had fun then?”

His dimple is on full display when he smiles and it reminds her of when they used to do this all the time; a call before either went to bed just to say hello or see each other’s faces. Ines knows what every hotel wall and headboard looks like in the NHL.

She plays with the corners of the envelope, “This is great and all, but I thought this was so I could say hi to your parents.”

Clayton starts to move, “they wanted to give us some privacy first.”

“Did they think we were gonna have quick phone se-ehh,” Ines peters off when his parents appear on screen.

Clayton is trying to hold back a laugh while Ines feels her flush grow brighter, “Hi Kelley, hi Bryan.”

“Hi honey, when are we gonna get you out here?” His mom asks.

“Sorry ,work never seems to be in my favor.”

She lies, it’s easier than saying she hasn’t been on a plane in 20 years because she’s afraid she’ll get deported. She’s never seen Clayton’s family outside of Arizona or somewhere within driving distance. They haven’t seemed too bothered, but she’s always worried they’re just good at hiding their true thoughts.

“One day,” she smiles, “we’re excited to see you in a couple weeks, is there anything you want us to make special for Thanksgiving?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that? You’re coming to our house.”

“Let me be a mom and take care of it” she scoffs, “you are my first daughter.”

Ines just nods because her voice might crack if she speaks.

“We’re getting a late dinner, so we’ll let you go. But can’t wait to see you, Ines,” Bryan says and gives a wave.

“Yeah, should be fun, enjoy dinner,” she waves back.

“Bye babe, love you,” Clayton waves, his eyes go wide before the call ends.

She’d give the moment more thought if she wasn’t itching to rip open the envelope in her hands.

Notice to Appear.

December 11th.

Suddenly the walls feel like they’re closing in.

⁄⁄⁄

When Clayton gets home from the road trip Ines is in the hot tub. Her muscles having felt wound tight for the last week.

“Saw you’re all moved in,” he says as he dangles his legs into the tub.

Ines doesn’t open her eyes to look at him, just nods.

“And you have your immigration hearing in December.”

She nods again, she left the letter out by the table where they put their keys. She didn’t want to talk about it, but she had to tell him.

“I’ll be in Buffalo that day, but I–“

Ines opens her eyes, gives him an exasperated look, “You’ll play a hockey game and I’ll be fine on my own.”

“It’s not–“

She moves closer, almost to the space between his legs, “you’re doing so much for me, please don’t fight me on this. Just go play hockey.”

“Okay,” he nearly whispers.

Ines thinks about how easy it would be to give him a blow job right now, let her mind go blank for a bit. Shut up Clayton for a bit.

Before she can actually act on those thoughts, he places a hand on her cheek, running his thumb across her cheek bone.

“And you’re doing, okay?”

She honestly doesn’t know, but she does know she doesn’t want to talk about it.

So, she grabs Clayton’s wrist and pulls him in closer. She doesn’t wait for him to catch up, smashing their lips together and pushing her tongue into his mouth before he even starts kissing back.

He’s quick to catch up to her. Pulling her flush against him, filling the space between his legs. It’s the first time they’ve done this since they got married, it feels like all the building tension is finally exploding. Ines feels molten.

Clayton unties the back her bikini top and tosses it somewhere behind him with a wet splat. His hands cover her chest and she can’t help but shiver, maybe from the cold air but probably not.

She grabs his hair and pulls him away from her, “we should take this inside.”

Without second thought he pulls her out of the hot tub and towards the house, the strings of her bottoms undone and left outside as well. Ines paws at his shirt, trying to get her own fill of skin.

He pulls it over his head in one fluid motion as he maneuvers Ines towards the bedroom. Her back hits the mattress before she realizes they’re in the master bedroom.

They haven’t done this here since the break up six months ago, like it’s too intimate, too full of the past.

Clayton is hovering over her, the chain with the wedding ring dangling. The room is filled with her belongings again and she feels like she’s in some alternate universe. A world where they never broke up, where marriage was a logical step in the future.

She tries to clear her mind again, pulling Clayton down for a kiss because she wants this.

⁄⁄⁄

An alarm starts to blare and she feels the other side of the bed move.

“Sorry, that’s mine,” Ines apologizes and turns it off.

She lays back and stares at the ceiling for a bit. It feels too familiar to wake up in here, naked in the softest sheets she’s ever felt. But nothing has actually shifted, she’ll get out of bed and everything will be as it was.

She rubs the sleep from her eyes and gets out of bed to take a shower. Clayton is getting ready for practice when she gets out of the bathroom.

“I forgot how nice that shower is, you should redo the one guest bathroom, it could have better water pressure,” she jokes, though it doesn’t really land.

She wanders into the walk-in closet where she’s haphazardly put away some of her clothes, she feels Clayton follow her in, even though he’s mostly dressed.

“My parents get in today; do you want to go to the game with them tonight?” He sounds like he’s asking out a girl for the first time.

“The twins have a music recital or play or something I said I’d go to, but they can take my car to the arena so you don’t have to worry about that.”

She drops the towel on the floor and starts getting dressed for work, stopping before she zips up her dress, reading between the lines of Clayton’s question.

“But I’ll be at the game with them on Wednesday, I mean if you can get me a ticket,” she turns to flash a smile at Clayton to find that’s he’s only a step away.

“I think I can manage that,” he turns Ines around, moving her hair out of the way and zipping up the dress for her, fingers lingering at her neck for a second too long.

Ines stops herself from shivering and turns around, “I have to leave, but see you after the game.”

She gives him a quick peck against her better judgement, “good luck.”

The casual touches don’t disappear in the following days. Ines can’t tell if they’re putting a show on for his parents or not. The touches seem too instinctive to just be a spectacle, but maybe that’s because they’re sharing a bed again and can’t seem to keep their hands off each other behind closed doors.

Though that seems to be seeping outside of the bedroom, too.

The morning after his parents arrive, Kelley is in the kitchen making coffee and gives them a knowing look when they come out of the bedroom, as if to tell them they were too loud even from the other side of the house. Ines decides to pick up breakfast on her way to work rather than sit through breakfast at home.

That night Ines is laid out on the couch not paying attention to the football game playing on TV. Clayton lifts her head up and then places her back down on his lap when he sits.

She groans as she tries to get more comfortable, “You make a terrible pillow, you’re too bony.”

“I think it’s the titanium rod in my leg,” he says back, squirming underneath her to make her more frustrated.

“You were bony before then too,” she rolls her eyes and pretends to focus on the game and ignore Clayton’s fingers brushing under her shirt.

Wednesday is a half day for Ines, she gets home to a surprisingly empty house and enjoys drinking a beer and mindlessly watching Tiktoks in peace.

“Hey, wasn’t expecting you home,” Ines jumps when Clayton comes up behind her.

“Wasn’t expecting to find an empty house,” she shrugs.

“My parents are picking up Jake from the airport,” he wraps his arms around Ines’ waist, “I was about to take my pre-game nap, but I wouldn’t say no to some company.”

He presses a couple kisses into her neck, “an afternoon nap sounds nice.”

She barely finishes the sentence before he’s walking her to the bedroom. Clayton is a little handsy as Ines crawls into the bed.

“I’m serious about an actual nap, I won’t be held responsible if you have a bad game.”

Clayton rolls away, hands up in surrender.

Ines rolls towards him wrapping an arm around his middle, “For all your suffering, I’ll give you a blow job if you win tonight.”

“A victory blow job? You didn’t even do that when we were dating,” he chuckles, the sound amplified with her ear on his chest.

“What can I say, I’m in a giving mood,” she kisses his pec and closes her eyes.

Clayton’s alarm goes off and Ines groans.

“You can sleep longer,” he runs a hand through her hair before slipping out from under her.

“Nah, I’ll just be more tired later,” she rolls over but doesn’t get out of the bed, watches Clayton go into the closet.

“You should wear the green suit from the awards, it’s a special request from Marisol.”

“Oh yeah?”

“She thinks I have a say over what you wear and she told me it’s her favorite,” she watches Clayton start to get undressed, “you did look hot in it,” she smirks when he fumbles with a hanger in response.

When he comes out dressed, he still has bedhead. Ines gets up to fix it, he jokingly bats her hands away as they leave the room.

“Just let me fix this one piece arcilla, you look like we just fucked,” she stops in her tracks at the sight of Clayton’s family, “Hi Jake, good to see you.”

Jake nods in her direction, not particularly friendly, but she can pretend it’s because of the awkward conversation they just heard.

Ines knows Clayton told his brother everything, or more than Ines would like. She’s not sure exactly what he told his parents about the break up, but they seem to have forgiven anything pretty quickly. She knows Jake is a little weary of her now, and maybe her motives.

Clayton is either oblivious or just trying to play it off and gives him a bro-hug before he heads off to the game

The awkward air between Jake and Ines remains, not that they were ever specifically close, but this feels extra icy. She tries to avoid sitting next to him, but the two get caught between the parents. And she’s not even in her usual seats near Kat to have a buffer.

The game is a bit messy, passes aren’t connecting, the power play might as well be missing, but the crowd is into it. Mullett is small enough to feel like you’re always in the game, which helps Ines because before Clayton she knew next to nothing about hockey. Being this up close means she’s 99% sure she understands the rules, except goalie interference.

The second period ends with the Blues up by one, which isn’t too bad considering how the game is looking.

“Have you two talked about any wedding plans?” Kelley turns to Ines,

On her other side she hears Jake snort on his drink, she makes a mental note to double check how much Clayton has told his brother.

“Not really, I had a quinceañera so I already had my big party and fancy-dress moment,” it’s the truth, her 15th birthday fulfilled a lot of princess dreams she may have had.

“You’re both still young, you can have long engagement to figure it out if you want.”

Ines feels the anxiety seep out of her bones.

“You two could even get married at a courthouse if that’s that you wanted.”

The tension comes back so quickly it almost gives her whiplash.

Jake shoots up and mumbles something about food. Ines would follow him, but she’s not sure a public confrontation is the best idea.

Thankfully there’s some more hockey to distract her, the Coyotes end up clawing back but lose in OT on a poorly timed line change.

There’s not a great place to wait for the boys at Mullett, so they sit in their seats for a while before meandering down.

Kat jumps on Ines the moment she sees her.

“Look who’s gracing us with her presence,” Kat kisses her cheek and slides off her back before she can accidentally knock them to the ground.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it, bad WAG alert,” Ines swats her away.

She hears Jake mumble something, but can’t quite make it out. That’s when Kat actually seems to comprehend that Clayton’s family is here.

“The two lovebirds have been busy being cooped up, we haven’t seen them both in the flesh for a while,” she gives a cheeky smile and winks at the Kellers.

“We’re in the same house and they’re having a hard time keeping it in the bedroom, so consider yourself lucky,” Bryan laughs with Kat while Ines cheeks burn.

“Oooh la la Nez, loving this pre-honeymoon phase for you,” she gives Ines a meaningful pinch on the side, a warning they will be talking about this later.

“Speak of the devil,” Kelley laughs and pulls her son into hug.

“Kells show me some of this PDA everyone is talking about,” Kat is clearly not above egging this on despite the sharp look Ines gives.

Clayton pulls her in tight, ducking his head so he can whisper to her.

“Sorry, I didn’t live up to our end of the bargain. No prize for me,” he fake pouts.

“Cause I’m still in a giving mood, here’s a consolation prize for a one-point night,” Ines pulls Clayton in for a kiss, ignoring the catcall from Kat.

“That’s it?” Clayton her pulls her in tightly to his side.

“Don’t push it,” she elbows him in the side, ignores the knowing look Kat is directing her way.

Ines manages to convince everyone the brothers should ride home together, since they don’t see each other enough. Partially, to prove to Kat that there’s nothing going on; partially hoping that Clayton and Jake will talk through whatever weirdness is going on.

⁄⁄⁄

“Do you have to go golfing and leave me alone with your mom?” Ines complains before stuffing her face in the pillow

“You like my mom,” Clayton rolls back onto the bed and rubs her back.

“Yeah, but preparing Thanksgiving is like serious mother-daughter shit, I’d love some backup.”

“You could come golfing.”

“Cause I’d love to get made fun of instead.”

“Those are kind of your two options,” he kisses her shoulder.

“Fine, staying home it is,” she flips over onto her back, “can you at least make sure Jake won’t be weird when you guys come back.”

“He’s just looking out for me, doesn’t want you taking advantage of me,” Clayton absentmindedly traces up and down her arm.

“Did you tell him this was your suggestion? And that I signed a pre-nup? I won’t take advantage and steal your money if that’s what he’s worried about.”

His hand stills for a moment, “I’ll talk to him again, don’t worry about it.”

He stands up again, “have fun cooking.”

“I hope you lose!” Ines calls back.

Ines wanders into the kitchen an hour later, Kelley already deep in prep.

“Sorry, I went back to sleep. Though I’ve never cooked Thanksgiving so I don’t know how much help I’ll be.”

“You’re a great cook, I think you’ll be fine,” Kelley laughs before instructing her on how to finish prepping the stuffing.

Ines takes off the engagement ring and places it in the middle of the island, out of reach. She rubs the naked finger and notices there’s already a faint tan line. She flexes the fingers, like that will give her some answers. Like why taking it off doesn’t feel like unhooking an anchor that’s pulling her under anymore.

She looks up to see she’s been caught by Kelley. If she has some thoughts, she doesn’t share them with Ines.

They work mostly in quiet, the Thanksgiving Parade playing on the TV in the other room. Kelley stopping every once in a while, to watch or tell Ines about watching the parade growing up. How Clayton used to worry the balloons were going to eat the people holding them when he was a toddler.

“This is your first turkey?” Kelley says as Ines puts the bird in the oven

“Yeah, I spent most of my Thanksgivings helping my mom with housekeeping, so can’t do this but ask me to make a bed, I got you,” Ines laughs.

“This calls for a toast then,” Kelley finds some Bailey’s and pours it into their coffees, “To sharing my secrets with my new daughter.”

She clinks her mug against Ines, the sound scrambles something in Ines’ heart, “You know Clay and I broke up right?”

Kelley takes a long sip of her coffee and hums.

“He told us you needed some time apart. Because of all the uncertainty around the team and some things he didn’t really get into,” Kelley trails off.

“It’s understandable you’re both so young and had to go through some really intense things together. I think it was really mature what you two decided, but I’m really glad you worked it out, you make Clayton so happy. I think happier than hockey, if that’s possible.”

Ines lip starts to wobble, she tries to stop the tears. But how can she when even Clayton’s mom believes their lie? How can she break her heart down the line?

“Oh darling,” Kelley pulls her into a tight embrace that only a mom can give, “love is never easy, and if down the road it’s not right anymore, that will be okay too. It’s privilege to find love at all.”

That sends Ines into another wave of sobs. She buries her face into Kelley’s shoulder as she gently rubs Ines’ back and sways them side to side.

Once her cries seem to calmed down to sniffles, Kelley moves away enough to see Ines’ face. She wipes away the few stray tears, “I see the way you two look at each other when you think no one’s watching, I think you’ll happy together for a very long time.”

Kelley smiles, her eyes a little glossy like she might cry too. And with a shaky breath Ines tries to give her a smile back.

They hear the door open and the boys start to come into the house.

“Who won?” Kelley calls out as they come around the corner.

Ines tries to busy herself by rolling out the pie crust they had forgotten.

“Jake squeaked one out,” Bryan comes around the island and kisses Kelley, “smells great ladies, you need any help?”

“Not right now, we were gonna take a break soon,” Kelley winks at Ines.

Clayton comes and leans into Ines from behind, his hands boxing Ines in. He kisses her cheek before he notices her eyes rimmed red.

“You, okay?” He whispers, kissing below her ear.

“Yeah, whatever onions we bought were like tear gas,” she cracks a smile and leans back into him.

“We had to evacuate for a while, I think we just got it under control before you guys came home,” Kelley smiles and pulls Bryan out of the kitchen, following the sounds of a football game Jake put on.

Ines turns around, still boxed in by Clayton. She wraps her arms around his shoulders and hangs her weight on him, feeling a bit tired. He moves his hands to her hips, giving them a gentle squeeze.

“Was it rough morning alone with my mom?”

“No, it was really nice, actually.”

She pulls back to give him a genuine smile, plays with the ends of his hair, “And did you talk to Jake?”

“Yeah, and I let him win so I think he’ll be in a good mood.”

“Wow, you did that for me?”

“Yeah, of course,” he smirks before dipping down to kiss her.

“Why can’t you let me win?” Ines pouts when the pull a part.

“I can’t act that well,” he’s biting back a mischievous grin, “but if you ask nicely, I can help you improve your back swing.”

He’s gently moving her hips side to side when Ines gives him a playful shove, “Keep it in your pants Keller, your family is in the other room.”

“Hasn’t stopped you much this week,” he pulls her flush against his chest, his hands wandering to her ass.

“Oh my god, there’s not gonna be that kind of giving today.”

Clayton’s about to respond, “Is it safe to come into the kitchen or are you two fondling each other?”

Ines moves Clayton’s hands off her butt and to his sides, “All clear Jake, your brother was just leaving to take a shower, a cold one,” she whispers the last part.

Jake makes a gagging sound, “you two are gross.”

“One day you’ll have someone to fondle other than yourself,” Clayton punches his brother in the arm on the way out of the kitchen.

⁄⁄⁄

Ines and Kat are sitting on the steps of the courthouse, finishing their coffees. The coffee was probably a mistake, it’s sitting acidic and heavy in her stomach.

At least the universe wasn’t cruel enough to have her hearing at the same courthouse as she got married. She doesn’t think her heart could take the irony.

Kat is jittery, her knee bouncing erratically. Caffeine doesn’t have that kind of effect on her, so Ines knows it must be something else.

“I think I’m supposed to be the nervous one.”

“I still don’t understand why you broke up with Clayton in the first place.”

Ines whips her head around like there’s someone waiting around the corner to record this kind of damning evidence.

“You said you’d explain, but you never did. And it’s clear you still have feelings for him.”

Ines scoffs.

“Fine, you don’t love him, then tell me why you broke up and why you never moved out? You had plenty of time to find a new place, Nick and I would have let you move in.”

“I was tired of holding him back.”

Ines gulps down the cold remnants of her drink.

“It was so exhausting telling him no. No, I can’t go home with you to meet your parents. No, I can’t go to the All-Star Game in Florida cause it’s not in driving distance. I can’t be your date to a wedding because I can’t get on a plane. I can’t have bye week with all our friends in the fucking country I was born in because I may not get to come home!”

She tries to take even-keeled breaths; she doesn’t want to start crying before her hearing even starts.

“And he couldn’t tell people because what if someone slipped up and I got deported, or worse they found my parents or Soledad. She has kids!”

Kat puts a gentle hand on her knee.

“And he shouldn’t have to deal with that, he could find someone less complicated and someone who could actually be there for him.”

“Did he ever tell you those things were a problem?”

“No, but I could see how frustrating all those little things were becoming; how upset he’d get with every new thing I couldn’t do.”

“Yeah, he’s upset because you couldn’t live a full life without worry. Because he loves you, Ines! He’s still in love with you.”

“No, he isn’t. He’s just nice. He would have said something by now, not just married me and suffered in silence.”

“Oh, he should have said something? Like you’re saying something because you clearly still love him, too?”

Ines just blinks at Kat, like her brain can’t possibly comprehend what her friend is saying. She doesn’t even get the chance to argue because her alarm goes off.

“You have a court hearing, but don’t think justice will stop us from talking about this later,” Kat says sternly.

In the court room, Ines sits between her lawyer and Kat. Her brain feels too fried to keep up with the basics the judge opens up with.

“Now it says the couple was wed on September 14th of this year. Just a few days before the official report was filed about Ms. Ruiz’ status. You’ll understand why this seems a little convenient.”

“Yes, your honor,” Sierra stands up holding a file, “but the couple was engaged before any officially filings were made. And you can see in the documents we have a receipt from when Mr. Keller bought the engagement ring back in March of this year. If you need to see Ms. Ruiz’ ring for confirmation she can approach the bench.”

“That won’t be necessary. Seeing as all the applications are going through the appropriate channels, I see no reason to hold Ms. Ruiz in custody while she waits for her green card interview.”

The gavel bang echoes in Ines’ head, but the judge is already moving on to the next case. Sierra and Kat help lead her out of the courtroom. They’re excitedly chattering, and Ines knows she should join in, knows this is good news, but she hasn’t quite caught up.

She sends Clayton a text: Hearing went well, won’t be going to prison, then promptly turns off her phone.

⁄⁄⁄

Ines gets two days to stew before Clayton comes home.

He picks her up and spins her around in excitement the instant he sees her. His smile falters when he sets her down and sees the borderline grim look on Ines’ face.

“You bought the ring in March?”

Clayton doesn’t know what to say, shocked by the realization.

“They brought up the receipt during the hearing, to help prove that it wasn’t just a last-minute wedding.”

Ines bites at her thumb nail, the ring catching the light. Clayton feels some relief that she hasn’t taken it off.

“You wanted to marry me before we broke up?”

“You breaking up with me kind of ruined my plans,” Clayton shrugs, not sure the direction this conversation is taking.

Ines laughs in spite herself.

“There were all those weddings you couldn’t come to and I thought you needed a chance to think without any pressure from my life, I didn’t expect it to be permanent.”

Ines audibly swallows, they’re walking around the heart of the issue, both too scared to be the first to show all their cards.

“I still got to marry you, not in the way I wanted. But I don’t regret that, no matter what you think.”

Ines moves to take off the ring, Clayton holds his breath while his heart clenches painfully.

“Ask me again.”

“What?”

Ines hands him the ring, her voice wavers a bit, “ask me again.”

He fumbles with the ring for a second before dropping down to one knee.

“I- uh don’t have anything romantic to say. But I love you Ines and I want to be with you as long as you’ll have me. So will you marry me?”

Ines lets out a small sob before covering her face, “Oh my god I can’t believe I’m a girl who cries when she gets proposed to.”

“Is that a yes? Cause otherwise this is really fucking mean.”

“Shit, sorry, yes. That’s a yes,“ she clambers to get Clayton standing again and kisses him desperately.

“I love you arcilla, I’m sorry it took me a while to realize I never stopped,” she says between kisses, not wanting to stop now.

Clayton laughs and pulls away enough to put the ring back on, “it was worth the wait.”

This time Clayton pulls her into a kiss, savoring the moment he imagined for months and months.

#clayton keller #clayton keller fic #arizona coyotes #arizona coyotes fic #nhl #nhl imagines #hockey imagines #hockey fics #nhl stories #nhl fics

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benkeibear · 1 year

Text

☰ 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐦 - 𝐩𝐭. 𝟐

⧫ Characters: Draken, Sanzu, Benkei

꒰ ͜͡➸ Kakucho/Taiju/Hanma | ꒰ ͜͡➸ Wakasa/Baji/Kokonoi

⧫ Reader: female

⧫ Summary: Their child insults their mom and how they would handle it

⧫ A/n: don’t want to miss a post? Sign up for my Taglist in my Navi! (This is a repost from my old url!)

☰ Draken:

ꕤ Shocked af

ꕤ He makes sure not to swear around his precious little child

ꕤ Always vowed to be the best husband and father, being who He wished He had as a child

ꕤ But that...definitely comes from Mikey

ꕤ "Make me lunch you fat cow!"

ꕤ These were the exact words your child used to tell you that they're hungry

ꕤ It wasn't too bad, yes but this wasn't how you three communicated

ꕤ He gave your child "the look" and they immediately knew they messed up

ꕤ Communication is written big in your family so instead of getting grounded or screamed at, Draken prefers to sit down and have a talk

ꕤ Usually that involves reasoning and what to do better next time - After all you're raising your child to be the best possible version of themselves and be kind to others

ꕤ So He sits your child down and sighs "I don't appreciate what you just said to Mommy. Maybe try "Mommy i'm hungry, could you make lunch please?" Next time, yes?" He says gently

ꕤ Your child just nodded, tiny pout on their face

ꕤ He does the whole "throw a plate on the floor and say sorry to it" thing so your child learns that words and actions hurt and a sorry can't fix everything

ꕤ After a while of pouting they finally come to hug your waist "i'm sorry Mommy. Uncle Mikey said it's okay to call you that... But I won't do it again. Pinky promise!" They said sincere, holding out their tiny pinky

ꕤ You of course agree and accept the apology, making Draken and your offspring some food

☰ Sanzu:

ꕤ Sanzu really tried to be a loving dad

ꕤ Trying not to make the same mistakes as with Senju, wanting his child to be happy

ꕤ But it's moments like these, when it's not so easy where He reaches his limit

ꕤ He doesn't want his hand to slip, it never did

ꕤ But it took a lot of him to stay calm, jaw completely tense when He hears his own child call the love of his life and their mother "a good for nothing, lazy bitch"

ꕤ He wasn't even in the room when it happened but those words were hard to overhear

ꕤ Sanzu wasn't surprised by the swear words, knowing He accidentally swears a lot even though He tries not to

ꕤ But directed at you??? He stormed into the room and grabbed your child's arm rather harsh, immediately letting go again

ꕤ "You better apologize now" He spat and your child refused, making his blood boil even more

ꕤ He went to deliver a whole speech on why you should treat your mother with love and respect

ꕤ He ended up making your child cry by how angry He was

ꕤ After tears shed on all sides, everyone apologized and you got takeout, planning a family evening to make up for all the harsh words said

ꕤ Sanzu isn't a perfect dad but He tries his best

☰ Benkei:

ꕤ Very similar to Draken, really gentle dad

ꕤ Despite his size he's like the softest guy you ever met

ꕤ Benkei is the fun and chill dad but also values respect and kindness

ꕤ Insists on sitting together once a week to talk about stuff that's going on without shame or punishments

ꕤ Communication is key with this man, very patient and trusting

ꕤ So he's very surprised to hear "Mommy your food tastes like dog poop"

ꕤ It wasn't a heavy insult or anything but it still made you frown

ꕤ He immediately stepped in "hey, that's not a nice thing to say" He said serious, taking the plate away from your child

ꕤ Your child immediately crossed their arms and started pouting "I was still eating, you stupid" they mumbled

ꕤ He sighed "since when do we talk like this little one? And im just doing you a favor, if you don't like mommy’s food, you don't have to eat it" He said unbothered, packing it up and putting it in the fridge

ꕤ There's no punishment of "no dessert" or anything like that because you don't want to make any food special, having them whine for it

ꕤ Once you two finished dinner Benkei cleaned up, sitting back down with your child "if you're still hungry, your food is in the fridge. But I don't want to hear anything like that again, your Mommy is giving Her best" He said serious

ꕤ In the end the food was eaten and everyone was okay

ꕤ Your child did end up apologizing and so did Benkei, trying to blame himself for their behavior but He did everything just right

Networks: @tokyometronetwork

#tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers fluff #draken x reader #sanzu x reader #benkei x reader #keizo arashi x reader #ken ryuuguji x reader #draken fluff #sanzu fluff #Benkei fluff #keizo arashi fluff #ken ryuguji fluff #repost

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leejungchans · 2 years

Text

caramel popcorn : s.mg

༉‧₊˚✧ for my 1k event !

requested by @belledamsceno : Hi Sol!! I’m so happy for your 1k 🥰🥰 Now, can I request a friends/idiots to lovers with Mingi where the f!reader never really hid her interest, but she just assumed she had been friendzoned cause Mingi never seemed to really reciprocate, but in reality he is just dense af and needed someone else to point out the obvious (sorry if this was super specific, I’m kinda going through it and if you wanna gossip about it I’m game hahahah)

a/n: hi belle 🥺💗 thank you so much for the well wishes and for your request!! i hope i did justice to your v cute req and that you’ll enjoy <33 sending you lots of love!!

word count | 1.4k

pairing | song mingi (ateez) x f!reader

genre | fluff, idiots-to-lovers au

warning(s) / includes | food mentions, one alcohol mention but there’s no drinking (please lmk if i missed anything!)

requests are now closed! thank you so much for the support <3

“Something happened the other day,” Mingi brings up casually, hand reaching for the bowl of popcorn nestled in the space between you two. You secretly prefer buttered, but he loves caramel so it was an obvious choice when you went grocery shopping.

Sure, you could’ve gotten both, but isn’t sharing snacks the highlight of movie nights with one’s best friend?

You arch a curious brow. “Yeah? What was it?”

“Wooyoung tried to set me up with one of his friends,” he answers, oblivious to how the smile freezes on your face as he rolls a kernel between his thumb and index finger. It’s not his fault that you’re hopelessly in love with your best friend, that the thought of him being with somebody else makes your heart plummet to your stomach.

You’re not quite sure how it happened, but you found yourself gradually seeing him in a different light, in a way that tells you you’ve long stopped seeing him as just a friend. Suddenly, your heart beats a little faster when he slings an arm around your shoulders, your smile grows a little wider when he waits for you outside your lecture hall, your cheeks feel a little warmer when he texts love you!! even though you’re sure he only meant it platonically.

Suddenly, you want to know what it feels like to reach into his sweater paws and hold his hand, interlacing your fingers with his.

“—so I don’t think it ended well.”

Guilt sends a pang to your heart when you feel yourself slightly perk up at Mingi’s words. He’s your best friend, you should be sad and sympathetic when a date didn’t go well for him, not be… relieved.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Min,” you say with a small pout, patting him on the shoulder gently before adding brightly, “there are always other fish in the sea, right?”

“Yeah, I guess…” He still seems unsure.

It’s me! I’m the other fish! a small voice in the back of your head is screaming; if you had a little more courage you might tell him just that. Alas, any hope you’ve held for a successful confession has been diminished after many failed attempts at letting your true feelings be known.

You’d been pretty dejected, but you also didn’t want to dwell on such feelings of rejection for too long. Besides, you’d much rather keep what you have than not have Mingi—your Mingi, the version of him you know presently—in your life anymore. Your soul would be genuinely crushed if your friendship ever took an irreparable turn for the worse, and you’re not about to risk your many years together.

And so, you shove down the lump that’s been building in your throat and lay a gentle hand over his. “I mean it, Mingi. You’re an amazing person,” you say sincerely, butterflies erupting in your stomach as a rosy pink flush colours the tip of his ears. “Anyone would be so lucky to have you, and I’m sure the right person will come along soon.”

He looks down at your joined hands, then back up at you, his cheeks glowing pinker by the second. His eyes curve into little crescents behind his glasses—you remember spending all day in the store with him picking out the perfect pair—and a smile slowly stretches across his plump lips.

“Thanks, Y/N,” he mumbles, “really, I don’t know what I’d do without you. You’re the best.”

There it is again: the feeling of your heart practically leaping out of your chest. I don’t know what I’d do without you… it replays over and over in your head as you scramble to figure out what the hell he meant by that.

Lost in the tangled web of your thoughts, you don’t even realise that Mingi’s gotten up from the couch until you register the lack of warmth, the lack of his presence, next to you.

He smiles sheepishly when you peer up at him with a questioning glance. “Sorry, bathroom.”

An understanding ah leaves you, and you dutifully reach for the remote control to pause the movie. He shoots you another grateful smile before shuffling across your living room and down the hall.

Your shoulders fall with the deep exhale that you breathe out, your head tilting back to rest against the soft couch. There was no way Mingi never caught on when you’ve become increasingly less subtle at your ways of confessing, perhaps this was his way of letting you know so he wouldn’t hurt your feelings—

His phone buzzes four times consecutively.

yunho (23:35) another movie date with y/n?

yunho (23:35) and you’re watching the notebook?????

yunho (23:35) dude.

yunho (23:35) she totally likes you back

You didn’t want to look, you swear. Peeking at someone’s phone? The most sure-fire way to sever any trust you have with someone else… On the other hand, it was hard to ignore the messages that popped up on Mingi’s screen when: 1) his phone was right next to you from where he left it in the now vacant spot on your couch, and 2) they mentioned you explicitly.

She totally likes you back. What does Yunho mean by that? ‘Back’… that would imply he likes you to begin with.

The sound of the toilet flushing startles you. Hastily, you lock the screen and readjust the blanket around you, feigning innocence by taking a sip from your soda can as Mingi shuffles back over to you.

You reach for the remote control to unpause the movie when his phone lights up again. Your finger freezes on the smooth button.

yunho (23:37) you should tell her before you don’t get the chance to

yunho (23:37) she’s not going to stop being your friend bc of it

The smile you had plastered on your face upon his arrival fades when the new messages from Yunho pop up above the ones sent just minutes ago. Hesitantly, you glance up at Mingi to find him already staring back at you, the look in his eyes can only be described as one of pure horror as realisation dawns on him.

“You…” he scratches the back of his neck awkwardly, “d-did you… happen to see the other ones too?”

It’s pointless to lie. You’re both terrible liars, even more so with each other. “I didn’t mean to, Mingi, I really didn’t…” you admit guiltily, “they were just… right there, y’know?”

His expression is still dumbfounded as he stuffs his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants. “Yeah, I understand. ’s okay.”

You gather the courage to ask, “So… when Yunho said you like me back, does it mean… you like me? Like, like-like me?”

With the apartment still plunged into silence, you can hear the ticking of your clock, your neighbour’s faint rustling through the thin walls that separate your apartment, the soft inhales and exhales coming from Mingi… you wait for his response with bated breath.

Nervously, he tugs his sleeves down until they engulf his hands entirely. His cheeks are bright pink now, reminiscent of him after a few beers. “We can pretend this never happened,” he mumbles, “I know you don’t feel the same—”

“‘Don’t feel the same’?” you echo incredulously. “I’ve been trying to drop hints that I like you for—for forever!”

Mingi tilts his head to the side and blinks blankly at you. “You have? When?”

He can’t be serious. “So many times I couldn’t count,” you splutter, “but you never seemed to return the feelings so I assumed you were trying to subtly turn me down. I—I sent you a playlist on Spotify with only love songs once, for God’s sake!”

You can almost hear the lightbulb going off in his head, and you can only gape as his mouth falls open in a large ‘O’. Did he really not think anything about it at the time? “I… I thought you were just in your love song phase?” Mingi offers, the corners of his lips tugging upwards in a shy grin.

“You’re—you’re so… dense,” you blurt bluntly, the smile creeping onto your face being the only indication that your words held no malice.

Mingi chuckles sheepishly. “I know.”

“You owe Yunho a huge favour.”

“I know.”

“I like you a lot.”

“I kn—” His face splits into a bright smile upon registering your words, one that you’ve already seen a million times and will still never get tired of seeing, one that fills you with a warm, fuzzy feeling until all you think about is Mingi, Mingi, Mingi.

“I like you a lot too.”

if you enjoyed my writing, please take a little time to reblog and give feedback to support it <3 it tells content creators what you like and motivates them to keep creating for you <3

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busted-glowstick · 1 year

Note

Can you please write some Pikeman x reader hcs?

-❄️

I absolutely adore this request, and i love that a fellow Pikeman lover asked for it ❤️ Also i don’t know if you wanted it like this, but i’ll make it gn- I also ended up writing a kinda partial story along with this, simply because i am just obsessed- aka I’m definitely posting a part 2 of a more detailed version of the story half-

Pikeman x Reader HCs!

You met the Woodscout boys when they first tried to invade the camp, taking a small liking to the ginger teen.

After a few more run-ins with him, you two snuck out of your respective camps at least 3 times a week to meet eachother in the woods between your camps, finding yourselves losing track of time as you two talked about anything and everything you could think of

He realized he liked you when he next invaded Camp Campbell, attempting to flirt with Gwen like he usually did. But something in his flirting seemed off. Like he was putting less effort to try to impress the tall woman. He didn’t get that same rush in his chest anymore.

At least, not until he saw you. The way you smiled at him from behind the defensive stares of the rest of the campers made his heart flutter. He called for a “tactical retreat” to his other troops, when in all reality he just didn’t want to be seen blushing the way you made him blush.

During your next meet-up, Pikeman seemed a little more.. Nervous, than usual. He avoided looking at you practically the entire time, and when you could catch a glimpse of his face under the moonlight, he had a faint blush.

You laughed softly, turning his face to you as you jokingly asked him if he had a crush on you.

Somehow, his face got brighter-

“Wh-what?! H-how did you know!? I thought i was good at hiding it..”

If the poor guy wasn’t a flustered mess before, he definitely was when you kissed his cheek, telling him you had a crush on him aswell.

The rest of that night was spent in eachothers arms, sharing laughs, kisses, and occasional flirts.

After you two got together, your meet-ups were practically every night. Some nights would be soft and romantic, others would be fun and childlike as if you were just best friends.

Until one night he showed up late, crying.

You immediately grew worried, Your Pikeman never liked to let you see him cry, so it had to be bad.

After asking him a few times he spilled his guts, telling you how he felt like he wasn’t enough for you and that he’s afraid of you finding someone “better” and “more attractive” than him.

You sighed softly, pulling him close as you told him that he was more than enough for you, that he was all you would ever want, and that to you, he was perfect in every way.

You lovingly wiped his tears away before kissing him softly

When you both parted he shakily spoke.

“I.. i love you (y/n).. so fucking much..”

You smiled and told him that you loved him just as much as he did you, making him well up with tears once again.

You both ended up staying there until sunrise, only realizing what had happened when you could head Davids scared girly scream from across the woods.

You cursed lowly, giving your loving redheaded boyfriend a kiss before rushing off, leaving him with a light feeling in his heart and a lovesick smile on his face as he walked back to the Woodscouts camp

What part of you does Pikeman love the most? He would say your smile every time. If you ever asked why he would go on about how your smile makes him feel like he is actually cared for, and how you have a faint smile played onto your lips when you two kiss. If he couldn’t say lips, he would say hands. He just loves the way you and his hands fit so perfectly together.

His petnames for you would include Darling, Sweetheart, My light, and beautiful/handsome/gorgeous. His favorite though would be My Gem, because to him, you are more stunning than any gem in the world.

When you two cuddle, he prefers to be the big spoon, no matter your size compared to him. He loves feeling like he can protect you and just keep you close and safe

He has absolutely z e r o experience when it comes to love, so when you start to show him said love, he will get clingy and needy for your attention. He doesn’t intentionally try to take you away from people, he’s just scared of you leaving him.

He also gets jealous extremely easily, so if he can’t be around you alot, there will be some kind of marking on you to tell anyone and everyone that you are taken, whether that be hickeys, his jacket, a fucking diamond ring. He doesn’t care what it is as long as it lets people know you’re HIS.

His favorite things to do with you is relax in bed with you after a long day of training, watching baking shows as you both cuddle each other closely.

When he has downtime without you, he imagines your guys wedding. He knows it would be absolutely stunning, with everyone you and him care about there, celebrating your love for one another.

On your 4th or 5th anniversary, he didn’t do anything too special. Not because he didn’t care, because he didn’t know what to do before the main event. He got your favorite flowers and made you dinner, watching romcoms with you.

Eventually he sighed shakily, pausing the movie and getting down on one knee, pulling out a small velvet box and opening it. It held a stunning diamond ring/band. He looked up at you with a loving smile, speaking softly

“Darling, you have made me the happiest I have ever been since you appeared in my life. I want to make you feel the same way you have made me feel. So i ask you now, will you allow me to take your hand in marriage and give you the best life i can as I love you with my entire heart, body, mind, and soul.”

When you said yes, he felt nothing but pure bliss. He loved you so much and he wanted to give you the life of your dreams.

I genuinely loved this request so much, thank you snowie <3

#camp camp x reader #pikeman #headcannons #x reader #romance #part 1

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nicolesainz · 1 year

Text

Message In A Bottle (BC 21)

Ben Chilwell x reader

Warnings: fluff, in its extreme version

Summary: She’s feeling like a face in the crowd. But she’s reaching for him, terrified

“If he scores, you go down an kiss him!” Mason told me watching his team play against Arsenal at their home Stadium.

“No way! Can’t do that” I shook my head disapprovingly to his request or more appropriately, demand.

“But why? It will be the perfect moment. It’s now or never” he’s nudging me playfully

“Don’t do this to me Mase. You know I’m too scared. Plus, what if he gets mad and pushes me away in front of a thousand people?”

"Have I ever let you down?" the Chelsea midfielder raised his eyebrows at me

Its true. Whatever Mason says, happens. But what if this time things changed? What if Ben prefers only my friendship, rather than something more. I would hate myself if our relationship and what we've built all those years broke down, because of my pure stupidity.

"It's different this time. Things don't always go as planned. If I do it and then Ben stops talking to me, it will be my final straw. And I will blame you forever."

"You won't blame me, because nothing bad will happen. Plus, you love me too much to hate me, Y/N. I need you to trust me one last time."

I have always looked up to Ben. I don't often believe that the 'perfect people' exist, but when it comes to him, I fully support that. In all my living years, I have never met a more special man and human besides Chilly.

Since we were little kids, my heart would flutter, every time I was around his presence. I enjoyed being surrounded by him and get to spend time. Even if it was a few minutes.Sadly, during high school I kept some distance. Due to his relationships and football career starting, I didn't want to be a burden. He knew I always rooted for him quietly and was his biggest supporter.

I respected his partners and time away from me, even if that hurt me deeply. Moving on was extremely difficult, but my heart kept saying that I needed to stay. Although what if this time never arrived? What if I kept on loving him until my very last breath?

"You aren't there to see the look on his face when you can't make it to the games. You don't see how happy he is, preparing new celebrations, in case of possible goals, wanting to be dedicated to you?" Mason looks me deeply in the eyes, and I know that the words coming out of his mouth are more than honest.

"They don't mean anything more than pure friendly love. I do believe what you're saying Mase, but I think you've misinterpreted the signs."

"I will let you see for yourself. Just have faith in my words."

Second half is almost done. Ben has assisted in the two goals the blues have scored. It's currently 2-2 and Stamford Bridge is handing by a thin thread. They all crave a final goal against the gunners.

My eyes fall on the clock which says 89. Only one more minute. All are looking between the ball, the clock and the head Chelsea coach. This win is a necessity now.

The ball shockingly falls once more to Ben's feet, immediately running towards the Arsenal net, whilst all the players are chanting him. Nothing is an obstacle. A small scream escapes his mouth as the ball touches the back of the net, escaping Ramsdale's embrace.

"AND THE THREE POINTS ARE AWARED TO THE BLUES OF LONDON, WITH CHILWELL HANDING THE CROWN! WHAT A THRILLING GOAL" the commentators scream out of happiness!

Me and Mason get up to hug each other, still smiling at all the players on the pitch. Mount turns my head to Ben's direction, only to witness my favourite person, looking at me, celebrating by shaping the letter of my first name with his fingers.

I have never felt my smile growing bigger than this. It feels very surreal. What if Mason was right? What if Ben felt the same way towards me too?

"Sophia is going to Kai. I think this is your cue to go to someone that may be waiting for you" Mason winks at me, eyeing at his fellow teammate.

I take a deep breath and run down to the pitch behind Sophia. She was the second person who encouraged me to go and express my feelings to Ben. Before stoping at Kai's direction she turns around and hugs me tightly.

"Everything will be more than great honey! I believe in you! Both of you"

I give her a soft smile and repay the hug. I wave at Kai and give him a thumbs up, as he was also one of today's scorers. He nods playfully as he mouth at me

"He is waiting for you"

Nervousness increases and my legs are trembling. I want to run away but at the same time I wanna run towards Ben. My heart takes over and so I run at the direction of my best friend, whose arms are wide open, waiting for me to jump into him.

I climb on his body and wrap myself around him. This hug feels homely and heartwarming. Ben never misses to make me happy. The happiest woman on earth. I wouldn't change his embrace for anything in the world. Nothing and no one can ever change how I feel about Ben. Like I said, he is the perfect man.

"My favourite goalscorer back on the sheet! I am immensely proud of you" I whisper in his ear.

My legs are still around his wait. He refuses to let me go. And I don't want him to either.

"It means the world to me that you came and saw this goal. Because it's for you" his sparkly green eyes are smiling at me, as his lips are too.

"Ben" is all I manage to say before words stop coming out of my mouth. I can hear my heart thumping so loud, it would surely come out of my chest any time soon.

I waste little time and pull his lower my face closer to his, connecting our lips into a kiss, in which I express every single feeling I have towards Ben. Love, adoration, admiration.

He seems taken aback at first but doesn't shy out and kisses me back, without tearing us apart a single second. I will say that I was surprised but surely extremely thankful.

"I think this kiss was a greater gift than my goal. Another dream that came true today"

I smile flatly, caressing his reddened cheeks and slightly sweaty messy hair. No matter how Ben looked or was, I only cared about the man which was hiding inside him. The kid I grew up with and fell for.

"I love you to the moon and back and to Saturn and Venus and the whole galaxy." the words escaping his lips were few I was dying to hear my entire life. And it was like I died and came back to life.

"You just granted my biggest Benjamin. I love you for infinity. Whether you score goals or not. Thank you"

#ben chilwell #ben chilwell one shot #ben chilwell fluff #ben chilwell fanfic #ben chilwell x reader #ben chilwell x y/n #chelsea

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sanisse · 2 years

Text

Hands Up, Palms Out, I’m at Your Mercy Now | Elrond x Masc!Reader Version

SUMMARY: Elrond takes the reader’s virginity at his request. Basically, this is just a version of Hands Up, Palms Out, I’m At Your Mercy Now for masc!readers, because masc!readers deserve more love and I really wanted to do this. It’s the exact same thing except mechanics are changed around. Elrond is still topping, reader is still bottoming.

Here’s the original fem!reader version.

AO3 Link, in case anyone wants to easily bookmark this or prefers reading there.

Spice level: 🌶🌶🌶🌶 (pretty dang hot if I do say so myself).

Warnings/tags: first time, getting together, friends-to-lovers, penetrative sex, fingering, oral sex, cuddling, fluff & romance

Word count: 5k WHOOPS

MINORS DNI, your media consumption is your own responsibility.

Your legs feel like jelly as you knock on the door to Elrond’s study. Part of you can’t believe you’re really asking this of him. The rest of you is screaming to get it out before you lose your nerve.

He calls for you to come in. You step inside and shut the door behind you. His study is always so comforting, with its overstuffed reading chairs, the neatly-shelved rows of books, the golden sunlight streaming in through the high windows to glint off the mahogany bookcases. Elrond is at his desk working on some letters, wrapped in a velvet indigo robe, face pinched with concentration. He looks up from his paperwork and his expression softens. He sets down his quill.

“I can come back later if you’re quite busy.” It rushes out of you before he can even greet you.

“What is the matter? You’re shaking,” he says, getting to his feet. Of course he notices. He crosses the room to take your hands in his bigger warm ones. His voice is laced with concern. “What can I do to help?”

“No— I—“ you bite the inside of your cheek, unable to look up at him. This could ruin everything but you can’t think of anyone else you’d rather do this with. “I just wanted to ask you something.”

“Anything,” he says immediately.

You don’t even know where to start. It’s building up inside your ribcage, filling your lungs. You can hear your own heartbeat. This really could ruin everything. He’s your best friend— he’s so good to you—

“I should go,” you say, too anxious to stand it. “This was a bad idea.”

When you pull away, his grip tightens— not imperiously, only with the worry of a healer. “Will you sit and tell me what has you so anxious?”

“I don’t want to sit,” you say. You feel as if you’re about to combust. Sitting down won’t help.

Elrond doesn’t say anything. He studies you. His gaze is as sharp as one of his scalpels. He’s patient, though, waiting to see what you’ll say. You try to swallow, to get the words out; you still haven’t the slightest clue of how to begin.

“Elrond, I—“ it sticks in your throat and then turns into: “You know I haven’t…been with anyone?“

You glance up at him and see he’s frowning, and immediately you have to look away. For some stupid reason your mouth just won’t stop talking and you tumble into: “In bed. Sexually. I haven’t been with anybody sexually. I haven’t— I haven’t had sex.”

You feel hot all over. Elrond’s still quiet. When you manage to meet his eyes, he looks perplexed.

“And this…bothers you?” he says at last. He strokes the backs of your hands with the pads of his thumbs and gives them a squeeze.

“No! I mean— well— yes. A little. I just—“ you don’t know how to say it. “I—I want to. I want to know what it’s like, I’ve just never— I’ve never found the right person—“ until now, “—someone I felt like I could trust. It just— feels like this big hurdle now and I’m tired of it and I— I want to.”

He’s quiet again, watching you. You can’t read the expression on his face.

You swallow again and break eye contact. “I just want my first time to…I want it to be with— with someone…like— I don’t know—“ You’re starting to tremble again. Elrond still hasn’t said anything. For once you wish he’d be less patient. You chew on your lip and finish in a small voice: “I want it to be with someone like you.”

He sucks in a sharp breath. Instinctively, you pull away from him, drowning for distance.

The silence that stretches between you is awful and heavy. Elrond is the first to break it.

“Are you asking me to be your first?”

Just like you can’t read his face, you can’t read his voice either. Your eyes grow hot and your vision fogs and you wish you could just disappear.

“I’m sorry— I know it’s— you’re my best friend and I don’t want to ruin that— I just— I know that you’d— you’d be so good. You’d be really gentle and I just— I feel so safe with you—“ your voice wobbles and then cracks.

He closes the distance between you faster than could be believed. He’s right there, so solid and warm and radiating kindness and feebly you wonder if you haven’t completely ruined everything the two of you have. Elrond takes your face in his hands, coaxing you to look at him. When you do, his smile is soft for you, gray eyes shining. He leans down to kiss your forehead.

“I am honored,” he murmurs. “Truly. I am honored that you trust me so.”

Relief smacks you like a wall of water. The tears you’ve been holding back spill over. He makes a little displeased sound and rubs at them.

“You haven’t ruined anything,” he promises. “Is this truly what you want? You have thought about it at length?”

You nod, leaning into his touch.

“Give me some time,” he says. “I will not say yes or no now, but rest assured that regardless— I still care for you deeply and nothing has changed.”

Your mouth twists and you nod again. Elrond pulls you into a tight hug and holds you. When you bury your face in his shoulder and heave a shuddering breath, he rubs your back and holds you that much tighter.

—

True to his word, nothing changes. The two of you still go for your long walk; you still read on the porch that sun-drenched afternoon; you still join him in the Hall of Fire with the rest of his house and sit at his table while Glorfindel teases him about his bad jokes and Lindir anxiously hovers from goblet to goblet, trying to be useful, until Elrond eventually begs him to sit down and eat something.

You go on one last walk together to watch the moon rise, then take the path back to the house arm-in-arm. When it comes time to part your separate ways, Elrond turns to face you, taking your hand.

“I truly am honored,” he says at last. You brace yourself, ready for the ‘but’, and he goes on: “This is a precious gift: letting me share this with you. I accept.”

It knocks all the air out of you. You look up at him in wide-eyed shock. “Truly?”

One corner of his mouth turns up in a little half-smile. He dips his head. “Truly, dear one.” Then, his voice takes on a more serious note. “But there will be no Bonding. I will be closed to you, and you to me. I will not risk an accidental tethering.”

You agree, shoving down the strange disappointment that rises in your chest. Of course this is how it must be. Elrond had no reason to want to Bond in that way. You’re friends. It was good to set a clear boundary.

“When shall we do it, and where would you be most comfortable?” he asks.

“My room?” You offer. And then you say, “Tomorrow? Or—if that’s— if that’s too soon—“

He takes your hand and squeezes it. “The choice is yours.”

“Tomorrow night?” you repeat. “I’m just— I’m worried that I’ll overthink if we put it off too long— but if you need more time or— or you’re busy—“

Elrond shakes his head. “I will make time. Tomorrow night, then. Very well.”

You share a hug, then go your separate ways.

—

Elrond is so calm at dinner the following day. You wish you could have half his composure. You hardly eat, completely unable to tell if the way your stomach twists is anxiety or anticipation. After dinner, the two of you go for your usual walk. In the quiet space between the rustling leaves overhead and the trilling crickets, Elrond softly asks:

“Are you still certain you want to do this?”

“Yes,” you say at once. “Yes. I am.” You’re perfectly aware of how your anxiety is radiating off of your body.

He offers you his arm. “Shall we head back?”

You give him a tentative smile and let him walk you to your room.

The two of you slip in together— Elrond first, then you. When you shut the door and the latch clicks, your stomach ties into all sorts of knots again. You have no idea what to expect.

Elrond, to your surprise, simply gathers you up into a tight hug, resting his cheek on the top of your head. Your breath hitches, then rushes out of you. He’s so warm and solid. He makes you feel so safe. His heartbeat ticks steadily away in your ear. When he pulls back at last to take your face in his hands, his expression is soft and full of affection.

“Would you like to be kissed?” he asks.

Your stomach flutters. “Yes.”

Elrond dips down and captures your lips with his own.

Somehow, this feels no different to any other touch you’ve shared. Elrond loves gently, deeply, generously. Every touch is infused with warmth. His kisses are no different.

He kisses you just the once, then draws back to gaze into your eyes. There is a gravitas to his gaze which you have always admired. It draws you in.

“We can stop at any time,” Elrond says, stroking your cheek with the pad of his thumb. “Just tell me if you wish to.”

You nod, then wet your lips and say nervously: “I— I don’t really know what I’m doing— I’m not going to be any good—“

Elrond interrupts, “I seek no benefit for myself. Let me take care of you.”

You swallow and nod once. Elrond gravitates down again to brush his lips against yours. His breath ghosts over your mouth, warm and even. Your eyes flick up to his. He doesn’t press any further.

Tentatively, you stand on your toes to close the distance yourself, and kiss him.

You feel him smile against your mouth. He kisses you back, sliding his fingers into your hair at the nape of your neck, cradling your head. Then, he leads you into a second kiss, this time a little more openmouthed, but still sweet. You can’t help the little sound that escapes you, so close to a whine that you blush and pull back to duck your head with a nervous, half-embarrassed laugh.

“Sorry—”

He presses his fingers beneath your chin to tilt your head back towards his. His gray eyes are warm and bright and fond. “Do not be.”

Elrond kisses you once more, just briefly and chastely, and then takes your hand and leads you to sit with him on your bed.

Despite your nerves, you lean in for another kiss, resting one trembling hand on his thigh, wanting to be so much closer, but too shy to do much. You’ve done this before with others, gotten this far. Never farther. You don’t know how to get where you want to go, but he’s promised to guide you. You trust him. You trust him. You trust him.

Elrond’s mouth wanders: just the dry brush of his soft lips against your cheek, then he presses a kiss to your ear, then trails down to kiss your neck just at your thundering pulse. A delicious shiver slides up your spine. Your fingers on his thigh twitch and you curl them into a fist.

“You can touch me,” Elrond murmurs against your skin.

“I don’t know how,” you whisper back, horribly shy.

Elrond pulls back and adjusts to sit cross-legged, then curls his fingers— confident but undemanding— around your hip and tugs, guiding you to straddle his lap. Your heart lurches and speeds. You settle. He coils one arm around your waist and brushes your cheek with the back of his hand.

“Any way you like,” he tells you.

You’re so close that you can feel the way his voice rumbles in his chest. The starlight filtering in from your window paints his face into chiseled lines of blue and silver. He hardly looks real. You reach up and graze your knuckles along the curve where the light splashes against his cheek. He leans into it, eyes slipping closed.

Feeling a little braver, you feather your fingers over his mouth, tracing the shape of it. His eyes open, dark and pitch-blue, somehow comforting despite the depth, and he kisses your fingertips. The way he looks at you makes your stomach flutter. You’ve thought about this, if you’re honest with yourself. You’ve seen what he looks like under his robes, seen him training with Glorfindel in the courtyard in nothing but a pair of leather trousers and boots— a creature carved from power, not quite an elf and not quite a maia and not quite a man— and yet somehow he is here, just at your fingertips.

Without thinking, your hand wanders down to the clasp of his robe.

You stop and look at him.

He’s still smiling.

He unclasps the pin with his free hand in one deft motion and leaves the rest for you.

You curse the way your hands shake as you push the first button through its loop. Then the second, then the third. Elrond shows no resistance, only rubs circles on your hip with the pad of his thumb that drive you almost to distraction.

The robe pools around his shoulders as you free it. You hesitate at the laces of his shirt. It’s then that it hits you:

This is really happening.

You never thought you would ever get this close. Your tongue feels like its turned to sand in your mouth, you’re so nervous. Your stomach winds in knots. Fear is a spike of ice, skewering you from crown to root. I don’t want to mess this up—

It’s Elrond who unlaces it, lets the robe fall to the bed, lets go of you long enough to tug his shirt over his head and cast it aside, then gently takes your hand and places it, palm first, to his heated skin.

You suck in a breath.

Your eyes lock. He is still open and warm and fond. His heart pulses beneath your touch, steady and sure, just a little faster than you remember it ever being.

He is built like a Vala.

It’s different. It’s so different being this close. So close you could press every inch of your body against every inch like his—- and you want to, Elbereth, you want to.

Your head falls to his shoulder, resting in the crook of his neck, and you begin to map every shape. Every muscle. Every time you hear his breath hitch, your confidence grows. You map the sensitive places: the line of his breastbone, the way his stomach quivers and flexes when you drag all five fingers down the flat plane of it.

“Are you learning me by heart?” he whispers.

“I already know you by heart,” you whisper back.

But it’s different when you’re this close.

You lift your head in a burst of courage to kiss his neck, and you think you hear him whine.

“You can touch me,” you repeat his words back to him.

He does.

Just as in everything else: he is patient and self-assured, every touch infused with tender reverence. If he hesitates, its out of respect. Each time he does, you murmur your encouragement. He strokes your sides, your back, your neck, runs his hand over the planes of your chest and swipes his thumb over your nipple through the fabric of your shirt. It makes you gasp and arch into him, hips tilting to his, feeling your trousers tighten as your cock starts to fill. He does it again, seeming to relish your reaction, and kisses your neck once more.

You want more. Your clothes are an annoyance that you want out of right now. You tug your shirt up over your head and cast it aside —though it makes your face heat— then take his face in both your hands and kiss him again.

Without thinking, you roll your body along the length of his, and he pours another breathy sound into your mouth that makes your mind empty. It feels so good.

Through the fabric that’s left between you, you can feel he’s just as hard as you are.

He also feels big.

Anxiety ices your spine again. You pause, blushing furiously, and drop your head into the crook of his neck once more.

Elrond senses it— he always does— and cards his hand through your hair, soothing his thumb over your temple. He’s so safe. He makes you feel so safe. You know he won’t hurt you.

Your body aches for his. You don’t know how to ask for more.

Gently, he asks: “Do you want to keep going?”

“Yes,” you hiss out.

You can swear you feel him smile. He strokes the curve of your spine and asks, “Do you think you would rather take me, or have me take you? The former would be easier for your own pace.”

He’s probably right. But the thought makes you even more anxious. You’ve never done this and you don’t really know how, and you’re worried you’ll be too awkward, too unsure, for it to be even half enjoyable for him.

“I–I’d rather you-- could you be on top? Please?”

He hums something in the back of his throat and traces the hem of your trousers, tentatively at first, giving you a chance to stop him. You only whine and tilt your hips toward his touch, so he traces down and palms you through the fabric, just a gentle squeeze that feels so, so good.

It makes you jerk. More out of the surprise of it than anything else. You’ve touched yourself. It’s a completely different thing for someone else to do it. Let alone for that someone else to be Elrond.

Your goosebumps are back. When he next catches your eye there’s something mischievous in his gaze that you don’t understand-- that is, you don’t until he actually brings his own fingers to his mouth, sucks on them, and slips them -- now wet-- inside your trousers to wrap his fingers around your cock.

You gasp at the touch and he responds with a hum of approval. The sound arrows straight to your cock and makes it jump in his hand. You let out a whimper and turn to bury your face in his neck. He’s hardly touching you, holding you in a loose grip, but the heat spreading through your body is unlike anything you’ve ever been able to build for yourself. His fingers are so long and clever...(what would it be like--him pushing them inside of you, filling you up, scissoring you open, fucking you on them—)

—you moan and immediately flush red.

Elrond doesn’t seem to mind in the least, only stroking you just a bit faster, and it’s so, so good.

The pleasure winds at the base of your spine, tighter and tighter, stoking the fire burning inside of you as you buck up into his hand. Elrond studies your face, then slows his pace and stops, and it makes you whine in disappointment.

Elrond murmurs and apology in your ear with a fond sort of smile, holding you flush to his chest.

“If you come too quickly, you may be oversensitive later.”

You blush, because you had been about to come-- and you can hardly breathe, you’re still so close to the precipice, unable to stop yourself from rocking your hips and grinding your cock down to his, relishing the surprised moan that rumbles out of him. If you thought he felt big beneath you before, he certainly feels big and rock hard now.

You’re still panting as he winds his fingers through your hair again, scritching your scalp, soothing your spine, before unlacing your trousers the rest of the way. Then he flips the pair of you around and gently lowers you to your back, grabbing a pillow to tuck beneath your head.

He sits on his knees next to you on the bed, then Elrond reaches out to the hem of your trousers again, pausing like a question. You give him a shaky, still-nervous smile and hook your thumbs in the waistband, then tug them off.

You had expected to feel…exposed. Vulnerable. You’ve never been naked in front of someone like this. Somehow, you don’t. There is nothing lewd in the way Elrond looks at you. His expression is one of admiration. If you shiver, it is only because of the cold of the room.

He bends over you to kiss your forehead, then your mouth, then the curve of your jaw, and each touch is like a spark, building that fire in your belly higher and higher and higher.

Then he trails his lips down your body, pausing to press his lips to your hip bone, and then --without warning-- takes your cock into his mouth.

You have to cover your mouth to stifle the surprised shout. His mouth is so hot and wet, perfect, as he flattens his tongue along the length of you, hollows his cheeks out, and sucks. Stars burst across your vision and you have to reach down to clutch at his hair just for something to hang on to. Elrond just looks up at you through his dark eyelashes, gray eyes twinkling, and damn him--- he moans.

The vibration has you bucking up into him to hit the back of his throat, for which you immediately apologize. Elrond simply pulls back, unbothered, and licks his lips, expression casual (maybe a little smug), but you think it’s entirely too modest considering he’s utterly wrecking your world.

He sits up and settles back on his haunches again, stroking your thigh, and then his touch traces inward, brushing between your legs. It’s so featherlight, barely-there, even still your breath hitches. When Elrond catches your eye again, there’s a touch of concern in his expression when he asks: “Have you done this? With yourself, even?”

A breath rushes out of you. You nod. Never more than a finger, really. Still, it’s not entirely new territory.

He looks relieved and goes back to rubbing little circles on your thigh with his thumb. Unconsciously, you part your legs a little more for him. Elrond smiles at this, but just reaches past you to his bedside drawer and pulls out a bottle, pours a little of the liquid inside into his hand, and then brings his slick fingers to your hole.

Despite yourself, you clench. It’s more out of surprise than anything else. Elrond doesn’t push inside, though, he just traces tiny circles, drags the crook of his finger up to the sensitive place behind your cock, then back down again. You let out a breath and reach for him, and Elrond takes your hand in his free one and gives it a warm, affectionate squeeze.

“Open for me, dear one,” he murmurs.

You let out another breath, trying to relax, and the second you do he pushes in past that ring of muscle.

It’s not uncomfortable, only a little strange. Elrond pushes in a bit farther, leaning down over you and bracing himself on his elbow so he can kiss your cheek as he drags that finger out, in again, gentle strokes that have you opening up for more.

“Good?” he asks softly.

You nod, twisting your hips to try and get more friction. “More?” you beg softly.

He smiles against your cheek and carefully presses a second finger inside with the first. It’s farther than you’ve gotten with yourself, and his fingers are bigger and longer than yours. You already feel so full--

When your forehead pinches, Elrond croons something in the back of his throat, withdraws, adds more lubricant and slides his fingers in again-- and then it’s not too much-- it’s good, wringing another hitched breath out of you which he seems to drink in like it’s something holy.

“You’re doing so well,” he praises with another kiss to the side of your head.

You twist your hips again, trying to catch a bit more friction, and plead: “I-- I want--”

What you mean to say is his cock, but he just kisses you again and adds a third finger, and it’s like it pushes all the air out of your lungs.

He doesn’t move. He stays like that, letting your insides flutter around it, letting you adjust. Then he curls his fingers, pets something inside of you, and your vision blurs.

You cry out, clutch at his shoulder, Elrond rumbles another moan and something warm and affectionate. It feels so fucking good. He strokes over it again and your spine melts into the mattress, every nerve in your body alight. You want more, you want more, you want more.

“Elrond,” you breathe. “Please-- please fuck me?”

Shy as it is, it’s dripping with lust.

Elrond only smiles and says: “Not yet.”

You could cry from frustration. He almost looks like he enjoys the desperation written all over your face, the way you cant up into his touch and sink your fingernails into his skin. He only kisses your neck, fucks you on his fingers, and then starts to scissor them and it’s like nothing--- nothing you’ve ever felt before.

You can hardly breathe as he works you open, petting your insides, stroking over that spot that he’s found. Your cock’s leaking precum all over your stomach and you can’t fucking think.

At last, he says: “You’re ready.” His hand stills.

The lack of movement is a kind of heartbreak. You tremble and reach for him, and he just catches your hand, gives it another squeeze, and asks: “Are you sure you want me inside you? I am content to finish you like this.”

“Yes,” you sob out. “Please. I want nothing else— please Elrond—”

“Hush.” It’s gentle and reassuring. He kisses your cheek and withdraws. “I promised I would take care of you.”

He sits back on his heels again and unlaces his trousers, then shucks himself out of them. His cock springs out: magnificent, long, thick, flushed red at the head and leaking. He is— he is huge. And he’s beautiful— every inch of him is beautiful. Impulsively, you reach over to tentatively wrap your fingers around him.

He hisses. He’s hot and pulsing and stiff in your hand. Heavy. You give him one curious, almost open-handed pump, then your eyes flick up to meet his.

His eyes are darker than you remember.

Still kind.

Elrond pours a generous amount of lubricant out onto his palm, slicks himself up, pushes more inside of you, then he settles over you again, resting on his elbows and cradling your head. You spread your legs to accommodate him without thinking.

When the tip of his cock touches your hole, that’s when it sets in. It’s blunt and huge, so much larger than his fingers. You trust him. You trust him. You know he’d never hurt you, but you panic and clench anyway.

At once, you shiver and blush and stammer out an apology. “I want this—” you try to reassure him. Almost like you’re trying to convince yourself, because you do, you do. You’re so horribly turned on— “I’m sorry— I’m sorry— I’m just so nervous—”

“Don’t fret.” Elrond dips to kiss your forehead. Its warm and firm and full of affection. “You are perfect. I am in no rush.”

“Is it going to hurt?” It comes out of you in a rush. He still feels so safe— but he’s so big.

“It shouldn’t,” he says at once, holding your face, soothing the pad of his thumb over the muscles that’ve tensed in your face. “If it does, I want you to tell me.”

You nod. He kisses your forehead again. Your nose. Your mouth. You let out a long, shuddering breath. He slips his hand between your bodies and begins to stroke you again, and your spine relaxes.

“I am right here,” he reassures. “I have you, dear one.”

“Elrond,” it slips out of you in a sigh. You trust him.

He drags his hips only a little at first, just rubbing the head of his cock over your hole and stroking your cock until you’re weightless and moaning into his mouth again. Only when he’s content that you’re finally relaxed does he press the tip inside.

It breaches you with a little pop that makes you gasp.

Elrond pauses, hovering. Studies your face.

“Does it hurt?” he asks to be sure.

“No,” you breathe. You reach up to drape an arm around his shoulders. Elrond sinks a little deeper and all the air leaves your lungs. It doesn’t hurt— it just feels… “You feel so good. M—more?”

Elrond pulls out, then slides a little deeper, still touching you in languid, decadant flicks of his wrist that leave your head light and every nerve in your body singing. That is how he does it: in slow, shallow thrusts, deeper and deeper until he’s fully seated inside of you and you’re so fucking full that you can’t think.

His head falls to the pillow and he groans in your ear as your body clenches around him, getting used to the sensation. You’re gasping, panting, digging your nails into his shoulder so hard that you’re worried that you might be drawing blood.

Then, Elrond rolls his hips.

Pure pleasure sparks behind your eyes. It’s so much. You gasp and clutch at him. He stills, stroking your hair, kissing the side of your head.

“I have you,” he reminds you.

“More,” you beg.

He smiles against your skin and obliges.

This is going to ruin you, you think inanely as he pulls out and sinks back inside, splitting you open. You have always loved him. Now you know what it feels like to be with him, and nobody else is ever going to compare with this.

You can’t bring yourself to care. Not now. Not while he’s buried to the hilt inside of you and your body sucks at him, trying to pull him deeper still.

He builds his pace. Never demanding, never hard. The slide is a slow-building fire that saws up your spine, coiling around it. You can feel the blood rushing in your ears, hear the way he praises you—

“You’re doing so well,” he hisses out, voice thick with pleasure. “You feel so good wrapped around me like this. So good. I love the sounds you make. Love to hear you. Love the way you clench around me just. like. that.” It’s punctuated with three, deep thrusts that make you shake. You’ve never felt so utterly consumed. You can’t think about anything else except Elrond, Elrond, Elrond. He feels so perfect inside of you, like you were made for this.

Your hand joins where it’s wrapped around your cock. The pleasure winds to a fever pitch, crashing over you in wave after mounting, cresting wave. You’re so close— surging up to a cliff bigger than any you’ve ever fallen off before.

“Come,” you find yourself panting in his ear. “Please, Elrond. Come for me. I want to feel you come inside me—”

He makes a surprised, choked noise in the back of his throat. His hips stutter, then speed. He hits a spot inside of you that wrenches a cry out of you, that makes your vision spark and split. Then, he bursts.

It’s that sensation: the feeling of him filling you up that shoves you over the cliff with him. You come with an utterly wrecked noise, grabbing on to any piece of him that you can just to hold on to something solid as you splatter Elrond’s stomach and your own, shaking and moaning and saying thank you, thank you, thank you. Elrond cradles you and fucks you right through it, and vaguely you register that he’s saying: “Good— beautiful. Beautiful boy. Good boy, just like that—”

He sounds just as overwhelmed as you feel.

Eventually, his pace slows and stills. You collapse together. He lies next to you and draws you up to his chest. You’re still floating, high off the hormones and adrenaline coursing through your body. Every single inch of you is trembling.

He draws circles on your shoulder and murmurs soothing noises in the back of his throat. Kisses the top of your head, then each cheek. It’s then that you realize that your face is wet. You don’t remember starting to cry.

“Thank you,” you manage. You wrap your arms around him and cling to him, shivering like a wet branch. “Thank you, Elrond.”

He pushes some of your sweat-slicked hair back from your forehead. “No, thank you, melda. You were—” his voice seems to crack. His lips brush against your forehead and he slips out of you, softening. “You were utterly magnificent.”

As your body cools, a hollow space begins to grow between your ribs. You feel so empty without him.

He didn’t bond with you. That was the agreement, of course. But this only solidifies it: you have to go back to being friends. You don’t want to.

You love him.

Tears fill your eyes again. Frustrated with yourself, you try to rub them away, but they just won’t stop welling up.

Elrond makes a displeased sort of noise and dries them for you. “You’re not hurt?”

“No,” you say. Your mouth twists. “No— I’m so—” your voice catches on happy. “Thank you. I’m sorry.”

You curl up, turning to face him despite your better judgement, and bury your face in his chest again. You just want to be close to him.

The shock in his voice is obvious when he asks: “Whatever for?”

“I—” can you say it? “I— I only— I just—” I love you. I am in love with you. This is a horrible idea, now that it’s happened. Because I won’t ever be able to stop thinking about you.

You pull back to look up at him. His face is etched with concern. You can hardly bear it. Immediately, you break eye contact and look away.

“I only wish that…” you trail off. “I’m sorry. I know that you— that you don’t— I just…I really like you, and I know that I shouldn’t. I don’t have any right to you. I just wish that this…” you run your hands along his chest. “That this could be us. All the time. I’m sorry— I didn’t realize— I didn’t realize that I was in love with you until…”

He sucks in a sharp breath. You freeze.

“Will you look at me?” he asks softly.

You do. His eyes are filled with so much love that you can hardly breathe.

“I am in love with you too,” Elrond says.

He stare at him in dumb shock, unable to believe that you heard him correctly.

A shy smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. You can’t remember seeing him ever look shy. He rests his head on the crook of his elbow and reaches over to stroke your cheek.

“The boundary about bonding was for me. I did not want to accidentally… impose myself—”

“It’s not an imposition,” you say at once. “You could never be an imposition.”

His smile softens. “I do love you, if you will have me.”

Your breath catches. Quietly, in the silence that stretches between the two of you, you ask: “Do you want to be kissed?”

Elrond’s features soften, and he answers: “Yes.”

#elrond #elrond x reader #elrond x you #masc reader #lotr x reader #lotr x you #spicy

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welcome-to-maniac · 1 year

Text

MANIAC – Recon

tw for; murder, strangling, arson, cage-fighting ig, severe injury, Minho is unconscious

“Don’t return until the hybrid has been retrieved and that venue is burned to the ground.” Their Boss’ words are clear as they hand out weaponry and earpieces to the five men standing outside the now shut doors of MANIAC. The plan was simple in theory; grab AJ, destroy the underground fighting ring. But nothing surrounding the bar, the owner and its staff was ever simple.

“Stay alive, you lot.” A promising smile, and an outstretched hand. For all their mystery, the owner has their own reasons for staging a recon for Jeongin’s boyfriend, rather than ignoring it in favour of running the – very successful – bar. And Jeongin is well aware.

“You got it Boss; thank you.”

The minivan is largely quiet, par the radio, the five all occupied with one thing or the other; Jisung resting his feet on the dashboard of the vehicle while he stares outside the window, Felix keeping an eye on the supplies they were going to be using to get in (namely, passes for the ‘event’ and vials of poisons) and watching the road from behind Minho’s spot in the driver’s seat. The other two are in their own world much the same, Hyunjin listening to Jeongin’s plans to douse the venue in question in gasoline. He’s done it before, with promising results, and his usual dealer promised to drop off several barrels of the stuff.

It’s approaching sunset, and Jeongin wants to paint the sky in oranges and reds.

The vehicle comes to a sudden stop and laughs echo when Jisung all but screams in shock, a pout of feigned hurt on his face as he gets himself upright. Seconds later, Jisung now sitting upright like a regular human being, in Hyunjin’s humble opinion, Felix hands out the passes and four other vials he had been protecting.

“What are we playing with this time Lix~?” Hyunjin hums, turning the vial in his hand and pocketing it. Felix has changed so much from the beacon of innocence he first saw him as, and something in Hyunjin’s heart warms as he listens to Felix talk about what they all do with a fire in his eyes.

He was Dr Frankenstein, and Felix was his perfect little monster.

“Tetrodotoxin~ I put them in syringe vials, and this is some expensive shit, so only use it when you really have to, aight?” Felix instructs, the Australian accent peeking through the end of his sentence. He’s shelled out a few grand for each vial, and if it gets wasted Felix can’t say who he’s going to hurt (Jisung) in compensation. It was his money on the line, after all.

Jeongin and Hyunjin are the first to split up and set themselves up; Hyunjin finding a vantage point on an abandoned building opposite the venue, a perfect line of sight for his first few targets. With some well-placed shots, the ‘bartender’ could be in and out with plenty of time to scout the building before the youngest ultimately sends it all up in smoke. Watching Jeongin slip inside from his spot, Hyunjin sets his sights on the first of the many organisers and official looking people on his hitlist tonight.

That’s it, turn around so I can see that pretty face.

A push on the trigger. The effect is immediate, and the smirk grows on Hyunjin’s face like it was always meant to be there. Too easy. Clean up will come later, preferably from the fire that already has Hyunjin warming up at the thought. They could even make some twisted version of campfire roasted marshmallows if they find a convenience store open at this time. The hum of thanks from Jisung rings in his ear and Hyunjin watches as the vandal starts making his way into the back rooms. A helpful little source gave them a floorplan, and the five have committed it to memory lest they get lost.

“Your turn darling~” A sigh. A loving sigh.

“I’m boutta start calling you Sam again if you call me darling one more time Jin-ah…” Felix chuckles, putting his phone to his ear to mask the earpiece sitting just behind it.

“You should. I like hearing you call me Sam.” Another sigh. Hyunjin knows he’s pushing it, but his English name just sounded that much better coming from Felix. Everything sounds so much better coming from Felix.

“Fine; but just this once,” the Aussie knows it won’t be the last time. It never is. “You see the guy taking our passes, Sam? Take him out the second I get inside. We need some chaos to distract the audiences.”

Fire once Lix is inside; easy enough.

“Oh Bbokkie, I could listen to you talk like that for ever – fuck, you’re my perfect little monster.”

The conversation dies after that, and Hyunjin gets into position, his mind running with more than just the sightline his rifle is giving him of the bouncer checking the passes. Felix isn’t too far behind, a handful of people ahead of the raven. The line keeps moving, and the movie reel in Hyunjin’s head gets louder, more vivid, and Hyunjin can remember that night perfectly.

Four people left.

Sam waits at the top of the building. Yongbok’s been the best thing this messed up world has blessed him with. A ray of sunshine in a world of sin. Ready to be corrupted. Ready to be moulded.

Three people left.

“It’s gorgeous, isn’t it Yongbokkie? The world at your feet.” Sam hums, leaning against the wall as Yongbok stares at Gangnam’s night view. He could show Yongbok the world; give him the world. All he needs is for Yongbok to do this one thing for him.

“Beautiful, Sam…You just want to fall right in.”

Two people left.

“Would you fall? Fall for me?” Sam’s voice was sin; dripping with honey and hidden promises of something more if Yongbok just gives in. Gives in to the warm touch on his cheek that the Australian is subconsciously leaning into. His back is to the edge of the roof. He’d fall if he took a step backwards. Fall twenty-five feet to the concrete below.

Maybe it won’t be so bad. “I’d fall for you, Sam. I’d fall of this building for you.”

One more.

A hand on his chest. Sam stares at him with an intensity he’s never seen before and maybe Yongbok doesn’t hate it. Doesn’t hate that his life is now in the Devil’s hands.

The Devil always was God’s favourite.

“I’ll tell you a secret, Yongbokkie, do you want to hear it?” Fuck, the way Sam says his name…there isn’t a breath in his throat anymore. So he nods; eager and desperate.

“Yes— please…” Sam leans in and Yongbok listens intently. His chest is tight with anticipation.

“My name is Hyunjin.”

And Yongbok falls. He falls all twenty-five feet to the ground below, and Hyunjin is there, falling after him.

The shot is clean; right between the eyes just like Boss taught him. He hears Felix’s laugh at the commotion happening below and that’s the sniper’s cue to get off the roof and pick his second position. The roof was grimy anyway – what a waste of architecture that never gets to see the light of completion.

Minho’s the last one to go in, pocketing the pass in his hand and sliding in through the panic. If someone asks to the see the pass, he’ll have it on hand; for now, it’s useless. The venue is somewhere he’s never been before, but everything is all too familiar. Too real now that he’s inside and can hear the sounds of fighters getting ready. Even without the map committed to memory, Minho will probably be able to find the arena with little difficulty.

This was his life too, at one point. Fighting to earn a coin before retreating to your room – or worse, some place on the streets – to lick your wounds if you made it out alive.

His chest seizes as he hears the sound of the MC, the stars in his pocket glowing warmth in the coldness of his environment. The former fighter palms over the pendent; reminders. Reminders that his family – his new one – are waiting for him to come home safe. His surroundings start to slip away, however, as he looks down at his hands and sees eighteen-year-old Minho’s hands staring right back at him.

He's back there.

His hands are bloody now, shaking as he looks up and sees a dead man laying across from him. Minho doesn’t mean to kill him, but he’s young and they promised to give him an extra portion of food and few extra bills of cash if he wins tonight. It’s someone’s brother, his mind remembers; Kim Jun-something. A twenty-two year old with enough luxury to live in the venue with his younger brother.

He killed him. He’s a murderer, at eighteen. He’s not even an adult yet.

The ringing in his head gets louder. And louder. And louder—

“What’s this, everyone? The ace himself, Lee Know has returned!” Blinking, Minho’s confused; how do they know the alias he used? And then he sees it; he’s in the cage, and the doors are shut. Felix is in the corner of his eye, and Minho can hear him saying that Sung is gonna cut the lights, distract them for a bit. Sorry hyung, but we gotta improvise.

“I don’t fight any—” He doesn’t get to finish his sentence when pain blooms against his ribs, his opponent intent on causing as much damage as possible right off the bat. It stings, and Minho feels several shards. He checks his jacket, ducking from his opponent and his face falls.

They’re broken.

There’s nothing left to lose, and Minho throws his jacket to the side and lunges. If playing along and cage-fighting will give the kids enough time to get stuff done, then so be it. Cage-fighting is dirty, so he plays dirty; the butterfly-knife he keeps in his boot is brought out and Minho wastes no time in dealing with opponent after opponent, the rhythm returning to him much like bike riding.

He’s winded by the time the lights finally go out, only just managing to find his jacket and run out as the cage door is no longer electronically sealed.

Never again.

“Hello again, Lee Know hyung.”

Jeongin has been running ever since he set foot inside the arena, searching and searching for any sign of AJ in the halls of dorm rooms. He sticks out like a sore thumb; skin unmarred and well-fitting clothes. He’s heard stories from Minho about what his hyung used to do to earn money, and as much as he’s glad Minho isn’t in that position, that position is exactly where AJ has been forced into.

Using the wall to stop his momentum, Jeongin freezes. He hears whimpers, and he swears he saw something familiar in the corner of his eye. His heart drops. Kicking the door out of the way and ignoring the looks from the other people in the room.

AJ wasn’t…were they? No, no, they couldn’t have been.

The lights go out as he’s searching AJ for any injuries and he curses, bringing out a lighter to continue when he’s pulled onto his feet and spun around so fast he nearly gets whiplash. It’s a tough-looking thug, someone who would have easily scared Jeongin if he wasn’t hellbent on saving his boyfriend.

“The hybrid’s mine kid, fuck off before I beat you with your own ribs.” Jeongin laughs. He laughs, switching on his earpiece and letting his hyungs in on the conversation he’s having. It’s Jisung who picks up, and Jeongin knows he can stall for at least a good five minutes.

He’ll have to sacrifice one of his good lighters, Jeongin realises, as he watches the beefy thug walk up to him; the height difference isn’t too substantial, and the arsonist bites back a crafty grin as he spots a cotton thread. A necklace.

“Take one more step big boy and I’ll make a barbeque out of your neck.” Jeongin hums, yanking the bigger man to eye level and flicking the lighter dangerously close to his ear, the roar of the flame that much louder grazing the thug’s ear. There’s a look in Jeongin’s eyes as the words leave his mouth – he knows this – and it screams of a crazed sincerity.

It’s unnerving.

“Fuck man, I’ll leave you and the— sorry, your boyfriend alone. Just get out before the guards see you.” Just to reiterate his point, Jeongin sears the cotton thread off, singing the thug’s neck and leaving a grown man yowling in pain as he works on picking his boyfriend up, sneaking him out of the building.

He throws the minivan door open and bundles his boyfriend in thick coats and a blanket, kissing their forehead and sighing in relief. AJ was safe now.

“Hyungs, I’ve got him. Ransack it before I send it up in smoke.”

Jisung chuckles as he approaches the room Jeongin was in not that long ago, the same look in his eye. What he lacks in physical height he makes up for in strength and force of presence, however, as he ransacks the room and aims his bat at anything worth smashing. Pocketing anything of value to pawn off later, he does the same to any other open rooms he comes across, leaving a trail of Jisung-shaped destruction in his wake.

He meets Felix and Hyunjin at the offices, both men beat up with guards lying dead at their feet. There’s a few bruises on the pair of them, but it looks like Hyunjin got the worse deal – a gash on the taller man’s arm.

“Did I seriously miss the fun, again?!” He whines, much to the amusement of the other two as he kicks in the door and nearly screams because, yes the door is open, but fuck did he just snap his ankle doing it? Either way, the door is open, and the trio spend little time going through every safe and computer they can see, stealing an unused duffle bag to stash any wrapped up bills of cash.

“Has anyone heard from Minho hyung?” Jeongin asks.

The room freezes. Three pairs of eyes ask silent questions as Jisung dashes out of the room, swearing under his breath as he tries to remember the last time they collectively heard Minho say anything since he mentioned heading into the arena.

The arena. Minho is at the arena.

Minho can faintly smell gasoline as the hand on his throat squeezes tighter, his head spinning. Jeongin must have start spraying the gasoline, his mind tries to tell him, but all he can focus on is that he’s currently being strangled against the wall of the arena, and his assailant knows him enough to call him hyung.

“Look I— fuck, I don’t know how you know me, but you’ve got to let go.” Bad idea. The hand gets tighter, and through the white noise in his ears, Minho hears it.

“You remember Kim Junseok, don’t you hyung? My brother?”

His ribs are already battered and bruised, and Minho’s sure he’s sprained something, but the name brings back years of suppressed memories and suddenly the bartender can recognise who’s hellbent on killing him. It’s Junhyeong. His first victim’s younger brother. The look of recognition on his face must shine like a neon sign, because Junhyeong laughs. He laughs and tightens the grip on Minho’s neck even more. It’s going to leave bruises – if he makes it out alive, that is.

Minho’s phone isn’t in his pocket, likely dropped somewhere he can’t remember as he flails to try and pry the fingers away from his neck, black spots dancing in the corners of his vision. He needs to get Junhyeong’s hands off of him soon, or he’s going to be out cold. Permanently, if the expression on Junhyeong’s face is anything to go by.

Then he hears plastic. Plastic zip-ties.

“Let’s get this fucking thing off first hyung…” Junhyeong reaches for the necklace, and Minho panics. His pleads fall on deaf ears as the pendant is crushed under Junhyeong’s boot, the bartender’s heart breaking along with it. It spurs on the last of his adrenaline, however, as Minho reaches for the tetrodotoxin syringe in his back pocket, silently grateful that it’s remained intact.

He plunges the needle into Junhyeong’s neck, ripping it out and wincing at the spray of blood as he tries to pry the zip-ties off. Sorry kid…at least you’ll see your brother again.

He can’t get it off in time, and he slumps against the wall as his mind registers the smallest hints of footsteps.

Jisung nearly cries in relief when he finds Minho, texting on the older man’s phone to Jooheon, rambling as he relays what he’s seeing for himself. And then he sees the zip-ties and Jisung has to scramble to remove them because how long has Minho been without oxygen? He pockets the broken pendant too, hauling Minho into his arms bridal style and booking it as fast as he can out of the venue because they all need to leave now.

“Jisung hyung—! Is— is Minho hyung..?”

“Just about alive!” Jeongin relaxes almost immediately. AJ is safe, and no one is dead. Throwing the rest of the nearly-empty gasoline barrels towards the building, the arsonist stares at his good lighter. A lighter shaped like a deck of cards. There will be others, he reminds himself, as he throws it as hard as he can and watches the flames start to engulf the venue, the inmates and struggling fighters left inside no longer his concern.

It's as beautiful as he imagined it.

Felix nearly passes out as he drives them all back home, dizzy from the after effects of the adrenaline rush and a job well done.

“I can’t wait to get some good fucking sleep.” Hyunjin groans. They laugh, tired, beaten, some unconscious, but alive. They all need sleep after this.

Perhaps a hospital.

#🍹 jeongin.txt #🥂hyunjin.txt #🥃 minho.txt #🍷 felix.txt #🍾 jisung.txt #💼bar owner.txt #📖 story.txt

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