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halsteadlover · 10 months

Text

Under Fire

*Gif not mine credits to the owner*

• Pairing: Jay Halstead x Paramedic!Reader.

• Requested by anon: Hey! Could you write an imagine where the reader is a paramedic and one day a person starts shooting at the ambo and Jay is called? Then he would be worried when he sees the reader there.

• Warnings: mention of sex, blood, gunshot, bad writing (yes it’s gonna be a warning from now on).

• Word count: 4289.

• A/N: this is by far one of the ugliest fics ever and honestly I’m even ashamed I posted it. It didn’t turn the way I wanted but I was too lazy and had no time to write it all again so here it is 💀 Sorry for the ppl who expected a good worried!Jay fic 😭 I’m sorry for any mistake too and of course I know all the ‘medical’ staff was probably inaccurate so pls bear with me lol

“Baby, breakfast is ready!”.

Jay's voice muffled to your ears from the kitchen as you hurriedly got ready for work, super late. You tied your hair into a ponytail, not wanting to waste any more time trying to fix it before running to the kitchen where Jay had just set breakfast on the table.

“I'm late honey I can't eat,” you said frantically, leaning closer to him and kissing him on the lips before stealing a waffle which you popped into your mouth and began to eat as you looked for your car keys.

“Babe you can't go to work without having breakfast,” Jay retorted as he drank his cup of coffee and watched you amused.

“Yeah? And whose fault is it that I’m late?” you asked ironically “Have you seen my keys baby? Damn it… I can't find them anywhere.”

Jay chuckled and there was no need to say he found them as soon as he started to search for them. He was about to hand them to you but suddenly put his hands behind his back. “I want a kiss first.”

You giggled like a little girl and placed your free hand on his face, kissing him passionately, as if it was the first time you'd seen him in ages. No matter how much time passed, Jay managed to have on you the same effect as the first day, and for a moment, lost in your senses, you almost forgot you had to run away to work.

“Mmmh,” he murmured into the kiss, intensifying it as his arm went around your waist, pressing your body further against his.

“Stop…” you muttered between kisses as you giggled “No,” one kiss “That’s not…” another kiss “Fair…” and yet another one. “You’ve already made me late this morning.”

“Baby it's not my fault you're so stunning. You know I can't keep my hands to myself,” he kept kissing you, taking the opportunity to shamelessly squeeze your ass. “You were naked in our bed, you really expected me not to fuck the shit out of you?”.

“Stop, you're making me hot again,” you placed your hands on his chest to push him away, receiving a frown from him. In a moment of distraction you grabbed the keys from his hand and took your bag, before giving him one last sweet kiss and go to the door “See you tonight baby, I love you. Be careful okay?”.

“I love you too princess, text me when you can and be careful too. Don't you even dare come back with even a scratch!”.

But unfortunately, things don’t always go the way we want them to.

Your morning was going well, you were on shift with Sylvie who wasted no time teasing you, between calls, about being late that morning.

“If you're jealous because I'm having hot sex and you're not, just say it blondie,” you retorted laughing, getting from your co-worker a little slap on the back of your head as she kept her eyes on the road while driving the ambo.

“You’re really a bitch you know that? Of course I'm jealous! Do you know how long it's been since I've been with someone? I don't even know what a penis looks like anymore.”

You giggled. “If after every shift you literally fly home to go to sleep, don't complain if you can't find anyone. You need to go out Sylvie, Molly's is always crowded, you'll find someone who can't wait to rail you.”

She burst out laughing. “Rail me? Where did this come from?”.

“I mean… You know… I didn't know the meaning of these words before I met my boyfriend…” you answered and Sylvie let out a fake gag while you dreamily recalled your intense sexual life with Jay.

“You are disgusting,” the blonde replied even though she laughed. Before she could add anything though, there was a call of a shooting with victim and the joyful and playful air disappeared almost instantly.

You were about to text Jay, updating him on the progress of your shift but you mentally cursed as you noticed your cell phone was dead and that’s when you remembered you didn't charge it last night.

You put it back in your pocket, mental noting you’d charge it as soon as you got back to the station.

When you and Sylvie arrived with sirens blaring at the scene where the shooting had taken place, you couldn't help but notice the amount of people there looking on curiously and trying to figure out what was going on. That neighborhood was not the most idyllic and safe, given the unfortunate presence of criminals and drug addicts, and you mentally prayed you could finish as soon as possible since you didn't feel at all calm in that place.

A man in his fifties came running towards you, cell phone in hand and a terrified expression on his face.

“What happened sir? Where’s the victim?” Sylvie asked as you fetched the first aid kit bags.

“This way. There's been a shooting… There's a young man… I don't know if he's still alive.”

The man pointed to a person lying on the ground, immersed in his own blood and at a rough guess he didn't seem to be more than 16 years old. He was just a little boy.

“We'll take care of it from now sir. Thank you for calling us. Now go back in your house and stay safe,” you said and he nodded before storming off and locking himself inside his house along with his family.

You put on your gloves and leaned over the victim. You checked his carotid pulse and breathing. “He’s breathing and there is still a pulse. But it's too weak.”

Sylvie lifted the victim's shirt, revealing the shotgun at stomach level, and spun him on his side for a moment. “There is an exit wound.”

“I'm putting an IV,” you stated before taking the necessary kit while Sylvie controlled the bleeding by dabbing the wound with clean gauze which was soaked in blood in no time. After placing the tourniquet, it was difficult to find an accessible vein due to the copious blood loss but eventually you succeeded.

As you continued to do everything in your power to keep the still unconscious patient alive, you didn't realize all passers-by had left and that a suspicious car was approaching until the sound of a shot broke the silence.

Your heart stopped for an instant.

It all happened so fast and in just few seconds that you didn't even realize what was happening.

It was all so fast but so slow at the same time.

Everything seemed to stop around you, the world started spinning fast and slow at the same time which you didn't even believe was possible. The seconds seemed to have turned into minutes, hours, and in you kept wondering when it would end.

You and Sylvie threw yourselves to cover the victim, but not before a bullet went through your arm causing you to scream in pain. “Fuck!” you exclaimed as an excruciating pain made you bend to the ground for an instant.

“Y/N! Oh my god!” exclaimed Sylvie, rushing towards you regardless of the danger. Your hand covered your wound from where blood gushed and you tried to take a few breaths to try to regain control of yourself. You hadn't been shot at before by now, but damn it hurt like hell.

“I'm fine,” you murmured and when you opened your eyes you saw a woman lying on the ground not far from you. “Shit… Sylvie, go to that woman…”

Sylvie glanced between you and the poor woman lying on the asphalt, not sure what to do. “I am fine. Go! I'll take care of it here!”.

She nodded and grabbed a first aid bag before running to the woman, leaving you with the still unconscious victim. You checked him to make sure he wasn't hit and breathed a sigh of relief when you saw he wasn't.

You called for help on your radio before getting up with no small effort, dragging the victim behind a car, thus keeping you sheltered.

Your heart was pounding and you didn't know what to do, the fear they'd come back to kill you paralyzed you. You leaned against the car, bringing your eyes to the wound on your arm and noticing you were losing more blood than you would’ve expected.

“Shit,” you winched in pain even if the adrenaline rushed through your veins. You decided not to think about it and just treat the patient until help arrived, after all you weren't going to die from a shot in an arm.

You got up from the car and approached the patient, noticing the movement of his chest was no longer regular and that he was struggling to breathe. You took your stethoscope and listened to his chest, hearing crackles and a muffled sound in the right lung.

“Damn it,” you whispered to yourself, taking deep breaths as the pain became more intense and trying to focus solely on the victim and not on the excruciating pain you were feeling. The victim had a pneumothorax and you knew if you didn't treat it right away, you ran the risk of losing him before help even arrived.

You took all the kit needed to aspirate the air from his lung but your hand was shaking too much to be able to proceed. “Come on. You can do it,” you kept telling yourself and breathing deeply. With no little effort you managed to make a small incision and insert the small catheter to allow the air to escape. You listened to his lungs again after a bit with the stethoscope and breathed a sigh of relief when you realized the pulmonary sound was good and he was breathing properly. You fixed the catheter to his chest with a plaster and continued to treat the wound on the abdomen.

He was losing too much blood and if he hadn't gone to the hospital immediately he would’ve died there in front of you.

Your forehead was drenched in sweat, your arms and body were giving up as you noticed in the distance Sylvie giving a CPR to the woman who had presumably also been shot.

You heard the sound of sirens of the police and of another ambulance in the distance and for the first time in the last half hour your heart started properly beating again.

Jay, meanwhile, didn't have a clue what was going on, that you'd been shot, rushed to the hospital, or he’d completely lose his mind.

His day, unlike yours, was going on normally and no new cases had turned up so he spent the morning sorting through paperwork and old reports that were still incomplete.

He checked his cell phone to see if you'd answered him but still nothing. The last time he knew about you was when he saw you walk out the door of the apartment you shared and he couldn't stop the veil of anxiety that had passed through him. He knew he was exaggerating, as you were most likely having a busy morning and for this reason you hadn’t reached out to him.

He tried to keep his mind at bay, to stay calm and tell himself everything would be fine, that you were okay and he’d hear from you soon.

But when he saw Sylvie's name on the screen as his cell phone rang, he knew immediately that something wasn’t right and the slight feeling of anxiety was replaced by a real vice in his stomach.

“Sylvie? What happened? Is my girlfriend okay?” he asked as soon as he answered the call, without even giving her time to say anything. He knew something was up and didn’t want to waist time.

“Jay…” she breathed out, her voice clearly shaking but Jay couldn't care less.

“Sylvie tell me immediately what the hell happened. Where’s Y/N? Is she okay?” he ordered in a harsh and hostile tone, more than he ever wanted to.

“We are at Med's and…”

That was all it took for him to go crazy and not understand anything anymore.

Before she could finish her sentence he had already hung up the phone and, without even notifying his boss, he exited the unit at lightning speed, under the gaze of his worried and astonished teammates.

His mind kept repeating the last words spoken by Sylvie and never as in that moment did he feel like the world completely collapsed on him. He hadn't even asked what happened, whether you were okay or not, and as he drove like a madman through the streets of Chicago, he kept praying, praying and praying.

“God please let her be okay,” he kept muttering to himself, his heart pounding so hard in his chest he felt like it was going to stop at any moment. He tried to call you several times but each time it directed him to your voicemail. “Fuck!” he had exclaimed hitting the steering wheel in frustration and after throwing the cell phone on the passenger seat, without caring whether it broke or not.

You had to be okay, it couldn't have been otherwise. You had to be okay because you had to spend the rest of your life with him, he had to marry you, start a family with you, raise your children, maybe have pets, and to do that you had to feel good.

Jay knew that your job, as well as his, could be dangerous, but that didn't make the anxiety any less oppressive, the fear of losing you any less crippling.

It might seem like an exaggeration but he couldn't live without you, he couldn't imagine a life in which you weren't there, he couldn't imagine coming home and not finding you there preparing dinner with so much care and love, he couldn't imagine coming home and not finding you walking barefoot, the music blasting while you danced and sang as you cleaned the house, he couldn't imagine waking up in the morning and not feeling your body against his, the scent of your hair entering his nostrils, your arms holding him preventing him from getting up to go to work when you weren't on shift.

“No, no, no, no, no,” he babbled not wanting to even think about this possibility as he darted through the streets without even bothering to stop at red lights and risking causing accidents at least a couple of times.

When he got to the hospital he immediately ran towards the nurses' station, failing even to realize that Maggie was already talking to a patient.

“Maggie where is Y/N? Is she fine?” he asked frantically getting a glare from the gentleman who was previously talking to Maggie. She shot an apologetic look at the man and nodded to the room you were in before giving her attention back to the patient.

Jay ran towards the room and without even thinking twice pulled the curtain away, an expression of pure fear and concern on his face. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw you were lying on the crib, alive.

“Jay!” you exclaimed, not expecting to find your boyfriend in front of you in the hospital, lifting yourself up as if to reach him.

“Y/N stay still,” Connor admonished you, who was tending your wound.

“Oh thank God,” Jay finally managed to calm down and finally breathe again. He walked over to you and gently grabbed your face with his still trembling hands, leaving a kiss on your forehead. It lasted longer than it should’ve but Jay didn't care, he just wanted to savor the moment, smell the scent of your hair, your skin, and realize you were really there in front of him, that you hadn't left him.

“Halstead, you shouldn't be here,” Connor commented without looking up from the bullet hole in your arm.

“Shut up Rhodes, just focus about treating her,” Jay retorted and the serious tone in which he said it caused both you and Connor to chuckle but as soon as you looked at him you stopped immediately, noticing the expression of pain and concern with which he was looking at you.

“What happened baby? My God…” he stroked your face, your hair, “Why didn't you call me? What did they do to you?”. His eyes moved from your features to your arm and he immediately knew it was a bullet hole. He had assumed that you’d been pushed, maybe fallen somewhere, but he hadn't thought it was a shot at all.

Anxiety and worry were quickly replaced by anger and rage and in that precise moment he promised himself he’d make the bastard who had done this to you, who had dared to hurt you, pay.

“I told Sylvie not to call you…” you started talking, not answering Jay's questions but he cut you off, “Y/N please… I'm mad enough you didn't call me and I had to hear from your colleague you ended up in the hospital, don’t even think about making jokes right now.”

“Sorry Jay, it's just… You were at work and I didn't want to worry you. I'm fine as you can see and Connor will fix me.”

“You're not fine,” Connor intervened, glancing at you before continuing to treat the wound “If you hadn't continued to treat the victim your arm wouldn't be in so bad shape, the bullet had gone too deep. But luckily I'm very good at my job.”

If looks could kill, you should’ve been petrified after Jay's glare.

“Connor, you really don't know when to shut your mouth, do you?”.

“Y/N,” Jay spoke up “I'm not playing and I'm about to lose my mind. Tell me what the hell happened.”

You sighed, looking down at your belly as you recalled those moments of terror that seemed to have happened not long ago but at the same time, so long ago.

Jay noticed the way your free hand was shaking slightly and he felt guilty for raising his voice after the traumatic event you had suffered earlier that morning. “Sorry baby,” he said, caressing your cheeks and then giving you another soft kiss on your forehead. He held you as best he could, your head level with his stomach as he continued to stroke your hair, your cheeks, trying to calm you down. It was his way of saying he was there, that you were safe and never like then did you mentally thank Sylvie for calling him.

“It’s okay, I’m here now. Everything will be okay baby.”

God only knew how terrified you were, how afraid you were of dying, never seeing the love of your life again, never hugging him again and feeling him holding you, cradling and caressing you… Shit, this was one of the best feelings you ever had the pleasure of trying in your life.

You kept thinking over and over of those scary moments, the sound of those gunshots you knew would echo in your mind for far too long. No manual, no course would’ve ever prepared you for all this, you knew that being a paramedic would’ve taken you to places where danger was around the corner, but the adrenaline, the fear, that terror… No one would’ve ever been able to preparing for this.

You didn't even realize Connor had finished bandaging your wound until you saw with the corner of your eye he was getting up and collecting all the dirty gauze and other tools he had used. “I can't stress enough about the fact you don't have to exert yourself. You have to rest for at least a week, after that you can do some office work, but no work on the field until you’ll be able to move your arm.”

“Trust me she won’t. Thanks Rhodes,” Jay replied and Connor gave him a smile, then patted him on the shoulder with an ungloved hand.

“I'll leave you two alone.”

You tried to move you arm a bit but it was still numb from the local anesthetic. Jay sat on the edge of the bed, taking your free hand and intertwining his fingers with yours as his thumb stroked your back.

“You made me worry to death you know? I think I've died and risen a thousand times in the last hour.” He was the one who spoke first, but his tone was soft and reassuring. His free hand stroked your face, tucking a strand of hair that had escaped your ponytail, behind your ear.

“I'm so sorry Jay,” you mumbled back, feeling awfully guilty to see him like this, features contracted up with concern, eyes shining.

“You don't have to apologize, I'm just so happy you're okay,” he hugged you and you returned that hug, with your free arm. “God Y/N, I wouldn't have known what to do without you. I've never been so scared as today...” he kept talking “Don't ever do this to me again.”

“I was so scared Jay… I…” you stammered, trying to swallow the lump in your throat “I thought I'd never see you again…”

“Shh, it's okay. I'm here now and you're safe, I won't let anyone hurt you anymore,” he tried to calm you down even if he was feeling a storm inside. He was angry, furious, because he wasn't there to protect you, because if he had the person responsible in his hands he would’ve killed them with his bare hands, because he hated seeing you like that, scared, trembling in his arms. And he wanted to cry, cry so hard, because the fear he'd had of losing you was paralyzing.

Jay had never been in a situation where he’d even think you weren't next to him. To him it was like you were a superhero, immortal, that one way or another you'd always come back to him and he had taking all of this for granted. Reality had hit him full blown and left him breathless, making him lose the ground under his feet, the world collapsing around him and made him understand it wasn't like this, that fate was sometimes a bastard and that only event made him realize how important you were to him. Maybe even more than he could have ever imagined.

How much he loved you, for goodness sake, it was overwhelming. You were his whole world, and however absurd, ridiculous, cheesy, or over the top that might seem, Jay really couldn't live without you. It was a phrase he had told you so many times but in that particular absurd event it took on an even deeper and more real meaning and he really, really couldn't exist in a world where you weren't by his side.

And he didn't care how cheesy any of that sounded, it was the plain, simple, unequivocal truth.

“Baby you're choking me,” you muttered as he began to hold you so tight it literally blocked your breath. Your voice brought him back to reality, “Shit. Sorry, baby I didn't realize it,” he said giving you a kiss on the lips and you smiled at him, “It's okay.”

“Are you okay? Do you need something?”.

You shook your head, your lids suddenly feeling heavy. “No, just some rest.”

Jay smiled sweetly, looking at you with so much love and affection. “I know baby, I know. As soon as they prepare the discharge documents, I'll take you home and you can rest as long as you want.”

You nodded and the tender expression on your face made his heart explode. Had he already said how much he fucking loved you? “You'll stay with me right? I need you.”

“Do you really think I would’ve left you alone knowing what you've been through? I'll take the rest of the day off and, since I have a lot of accumulated vacation days, I’ll take the next few weeks as well.”

You smiled faintly. You didn’t want him to not go to work and felt selfish but God, you needed him so badly so you didn’t even complain. “Thank you love.”

“Do you feel like telling me what happened?” Jay asked, now impatient. You told him everything from how you were treating the victim, to the shooting and until help arrived. It goes without saying how furious Jay was when you finished speaking and how he looked ready to smash something against the walls.

“It's over baby, I'm really fine now, luckily they hit me on the arm and not elsewhere where it could’ve been so much worse. I'll get better soon, you know how these things go,” you tried to reassure him, placing your hand on his face and stroking his skin, a gesture that made him relax a little. “Please don’t be mad.”

“I’m not mad Y/N, I’m furious. You are the most precious thing in my life and I’d kill anyone for even touch a strand of your hair in the wrong way. Knowing you were there alone, that you couldn't defend yourself, someone dared to hurt you… I can’t even explain the rage I’m feeling right now,” he replied, the tone of low voice as your words kept echoing in his mind. “I'm so sorry my baby,” he caressed your face “My precious princess. I’m so sorry for not being there and failing to protect you. It shouldn't have happened, especially not to you. If something…”

“No love no,” you interrupted him, not letting him finish that sentence “Let's not think about that. I'm here now, you're here with me and that's all that matters, okay?”.

“I know, I know,” he replied. But they’ll still have to pay for what they did to you.

General tag list: @hngbrooks, @alexxavicry, @mrspeacem1nusone, @halstead-severide-fan, @allivzs

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kennedyslvr · 1 year

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hihi!!

could i request a vendetta leon x male (cis) reader?

maybe a kind of flirty and nice reader, cracking jokes to make leon embarrassed/shy

could turn nsfw 👀

and if so- can leon be kinda dominant but also desperate like i need that man to BEGGGG 🙏🙏

kinda like “please- i cant take anymore teasing, let me fuck you, pleasepleaseplease-“

so sorry if this is a mess

warnings: m.reader, sir kink, leon is kinda pervy, biting kink, begging by both people, old man leon is so silly

word count: 1187

note: i rlly hope u like this anon, got my meds in shape and i can finally write successfully!!!

—

you were leon’s cute and energized partner, no one really knows how you two got along since your personalities should basically clash with one another. leon didn’t show it but he knew about your little antics towards him, you would constantly tease him with your physique, you would let your touch linger on him for a bit too long, and you would even laugh at his stupid jokes. leon would be lying if he said he hasn’t thought about shutting that pretty mouth of yours up, he constantly laid in his bed at ungodly hours of the night palming his cock pathetically. groaning your name while thinking about what your ass would feel like around his cock, how your mouth would feel, you drove him absolutely insane.

“leon you look terrible, did you sleep at all last night?” you asked, staring up at leon with fluttering lashes, it’s this early and you’re already teasing him!? “when you get to my age, you learn to think about other things other than sleeping.” he mumbled, obviously thinking about the way he came into a pair of your boxers that he had stolen from you. you let out a hum before stepping closer to leon, “what do you think about at night, old man?” his words got caught in his throat, what the hell was he going to tell you? ‘yeah i think about you choking on my cock while you beg me to flood your mouth and ass with cum!’ of course not!

“none of your business, kid.” he leaned in closer to you, making you smirk proudly. “do you think about me leon?” leon’s face starts to burn, he stood up straight while quickly turning away from you. “of course not, why would i ever-“ “don’t lie to me, leon.” you giggled making him still, he swore he was on the verge of passing out. you turned to you with an embarrassed look in his eyes, “i can hear you at night, you’re very loud y'know.”

—

leon brought your dirty boxers to his face so he could inhale your sweet scent. he was such a pervert and he knew it, but he felt so good that he couldn’t care right now. you were in his mind always, you were like an annoying fruit fly that wouldn’t leave him alone. every pump of his hand made him groan loudly, promptly waking you up in the process. “what the hell…” you mumbled, thinking that someone must’ve stubbed their toe or something, but your guesses were very quickly proven wrong by leon calling out to you.

“fuck…so fucking tight, kid, fuck.” leon moaned out in ecstasy, your smell engulfed his senses making his whine into your stolen boxers. you pressed your ear against the wall to hear more of him, your own cock started to get painfully hard at the lewd sounds leon let slip from his mouth. you palmed at your sensitive cock, trying to keep it calm and to feel any type of friction.

leon sped up his movements, his hips bucking up to meet his hands, he was so desperate to reach his release that he continued to get louder. he didn’t care if he was loud right now, all he cared about were his filthy thoughts about you. “fuck baby, i’m gonna cum. you’re gonna make me fucking cum- fuck!” leon’s back arched off the bed as ropes of cum shot out of his cock, he stroked himself through his orgasm, whining and panting like a dog at the overstimulation.

“…shit.” you heard leon curse from your room, followed by footsteps and running water. this would be fun to tease him about tomorrow, you thought.

—

leon hissed at your finger slowly moving down his torso, he grabbed your wrist making you flinch. “if you’re gonna touch me-“ he placed your hand over his hardened cock, “touch me right, baby.” leon grabbed the back of your neck to pull your mouth onto his, the kiss was sloppy and desperate. he pressed his cock desperately into your own, it was aggressive and made you whine. you pulled back from the kiss with a smirk on your face, “needy are we, sir?” “close your mouth.” he mumbled while slipping your pants down, fumbling to get his own pants off. he wanted to feel you close to him, he just wanted to feel every inch of your skin in his hands.

“leon, can you sit for me?” you asked, flirtatious tone making leon’s ears go red. be grumbled a bit before sitting himself on the couch, you straddled his lap with a small smirk on your face, he looked at you with suspicious eyes. “hold on to something, sir.” “what the hell are you-“ his sentence was interrupted by a loud moan, as you dunk yourself down on his cock he brought his hands to your hips, squishing the skin in his hands. you held onto his shoulders with a shaky smile, trying to act tough while his cock was kissing your prostate was surprisingly difficult. leon was waiting for you to move, waiting to feel your insides glide around his cock, but nothing.

you were simply grinding his cock inside you, rolling your hips in small circles. leon leaned forward to capture your neck in his teeth, this was better than anything he’s ever imagined, for a moment he thought he was dreaming with how good your insides felt. he quickly got impatient though, trying to lift your hips up only to be met with a smack on the hand. “cmon baby, this is fucking torture.” he whined into your ear, “please let me fuck you, i cant do this grinding shit anymore. please please, pretty please?” he begged, still sucking and nibbling your neck, leaving pretty bruises.

“jeez, been awhile since you’ve gotten your dick wet huh-“ leon thrusted upwards making you moan out in shock, he got tired of waiting, he was going to go crazy if he didn’t have you right then and there. “god baby, you feel so good…so fucking tight f’me.” he groaned still pounding up into you, each thrust earned slutty moans and whimpers. you locked your arms around leon’s neck, trying to kiss him but he pulled away, “nuh uh, how do you ask?” he's so mean. you whined at his tone, you felt yourself get closer to your high, you were shaking and practically pleading with leon. “p-please kiss! i-i wanna kiss you wh-while we cum! please?” you begged making him smile, he quickly pulled your mouth into his with a groan. your body trembled as your orgasm tore through you, your back arched, chest hitting leon’s as you finally let go.

leon let you cuddle into him, he wrapped his strong arms around your shaking body. he whispered sweet nothings in your ears, drawing shapes into your back with. he smirked to himself, he let you simmer down for a second so he wouldn’t overwhelm you, he still hasn’t cum yet. plus, he still has to teach you a lesson about teasing him, he didn’t forget about that part at all.

#leon kennedy #resident evil #leon kennedy x male reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon x reader #leon s kennedy x male reader #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy smut #kennedyslvr

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kiss-me-cill-me · 5 months

Note

could you write a fic about any cillian character, of ur choice, were its the readers first time and he is really sweet and gentle? Luv your writings btw!!!

Any character, you say...? 👀 Well, then I guess it's time to take a shot at my white whale. I love zombies, I love 28 Days Later, and I love Jim. I have been somewhat avoiding writing for him because I didn't feel like I had any strong concepts for a fic, and I struggle to get his "voice" right in my head for the dialogue. But gosh darn it, the world needs more Jim fics. And I feel like this prompt just fits him. Thank you for the request, anon, and for giving me the push I needed!

Morning Light

Pairing: Jim (28 Days Later) x Reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Summary: In a rare moment of peace in a strange new world, you and Jim find comfort in each other's arms.

Warnings: Smut, loss of virginity (for reader, not Jim), oral (f receiving), praise, brief mention of past attempted sexual assault (basically what happens in canon), for the purposes of this fic we're gonna pretend that Jim doesn't get shot in the stomach lmao

***Please read the warnings before continuing. Minors DNI***

Jim’s lips taste like something you can’t quite put your finger on. Whatever it is, it has you swooning. Dizzy with desire as you inhale; trying to steady your breath while your hand trails down over his bare chest.

“We really don’t have to,” he murmurs.

“I know,” you reply. “But I want to.”

You lean in for another kiss. Bodies pressed so tightly together, laying on the rickety little bed in the tiny cottage you now call home, you truly do want nothing more. Jim, stretched lazily out beneath you, brings a hand up to cup your face and deepen the kiss. Your senses swell with that scent, whatever it is, and your eyes flutter closed against the light that streams in through the windows.

“Are you sure?” he asks, pulling away again, just enough to speak.

His nose still brushes softly against yours, and his thumb trails over your cheek. You feel yourself melt deeper into his touch, almost too distracted to remember to respond.

“I’m sure.”

“But… really? So soon after…”

You know what he’s about to say. What he doesn’t want to remember; choosing instead to let himself trail off as he smooths his fingers over your jawline. But that - that horrible thing that almost happened - is all part of the reason why you want Jim so badly. You want your first time to be with him. To be special; with someone you truly care for.

Years and years ago, when all of your friends had been so desperate to grow up and run headfirst into their sexuality, you had been content to wait. But now, things have changed. Being alive suddenly feels fragile and impermanent, and your dangerous encounter with the soldiers has taught you that life doesn’t wait for you. Nor does it wait for that perfect moment.

Although, this moment here with Jim does feel somehow perfect. Jim’s body against yours is warm, and even with both of your sweaters flung over the side of the bed, you feel a heat washing over your chest as Jim wraps his strong arms around you a little tighter.

“Jim, are you really the nervous one here?” You laugh, your voice a bit airy and high as it betrays your own nerves.

“M’not nervous,” he scoffs. “I’m just… I don’t want to hurt you, or force you into anything.”

You let your body sink into his. Jim pulls you even closer, pressing your weight into his chest. Your forehead rests lightly against his, noses still touching as you laugh again.

“Girl gets you naked in bed like this, and you still think you’re forcing her?” you tease.

“Well, fair.” Jim relents. “You were the one who took off my clothes.”

Jim nuzzles into another kiss as he speaks, breaking some of the tension and making you clutch at his chest. This time, his lips linger against yours a little longer, parting just slightly so the tip of his tongue can dart out. You feel the ache inside of you deepen, your body calling out to his.

“But you’re sure, though?” Jim asks again. He moves his hand to your shoulder, steadying you. “You do want to? We don’t have t-”

His words are cut off by your hand drifting lower, until your fingers are wrapped tightly around him. Despite Jim’s insistence that you don’t “have to,” it’s abundantly clear that he wants to.

His skin is like silk under your fingers. Your hand moves slowly up and down, coaxing him on as you bite at his lip. Jim breaks the kiss to lean his head back into the pillow, eyes still shut as an expression of bliss overtakes his features.

“Okay - you’re sure you haven’t done this before?” he jokes, one blue eye cracking open to look at you.

You try to contain a laugh.

“Don’t flatter me,” you tease back. “It’s probably just been months since you’ve gotten any…”

“Ouch, insulting my masculinity and yet she still expects me to fuck her.”

Jim meets your sly look with one of his own, just as your expression crumbles into embarrassment. His smirk quickly turns into a smile, seeing the effect his words have.

“And she likes a little dirty talk, does she?”

Your face heats up even more, and Jim kisses the tip of your nose.

“Sorry, love. Just can’t resist teasin’ ya,” he hums.

Despite your inexperience, you feel certain that you’re not supposed to feel this flustered. But, Jim has that effect on you. He always has. The pressure that’s been steadily building between your legs suddenly feels even more uncomfortable.

“Having second thoughts?” Jim laughs as you wriggle against him.

“You wish,” you challenge, pressing your nose against his a bit harder.

Suddenly, Jim grabs your waist and flips you over, so that his weight is pressed over you. He sinks a kiss into the hollow of your neck - still gentle, but with a hint of lust now that’s becoming impossible to ignore.

“Guess I might as well just give in if y’want it so badly,” Jim whispers, his breath fanning hot against your chest.

His words send a thrill of excitement through you; bursting out from your lungs and rushing all the way down to your toes. You bring your hands up to his shoulders, clinging to him as he pulls away from you. You’re confused for a moment, until he looks up into your eyes as he sinks lower down your body.

“How’s this?” Jim starts. “First I’ll eat you out, an’ then we can see how you’re feeling.”

The air seems to catch in your throat, but you nod. Jim plants a soft kiss on your stomach before drifting lower, hands parting your legs so that he can settle in.

“Lucky me,” Jim says, taking a long look at you. “Pretty face and a pretty pus-”

“Jim!” you cry, covering your face with your hands.

He kisses the inside of your leg, teasing with a gentle nip of his teeth.

“Ah, don’t get all shy on me, now,” he murmurs.

You look down to see a devilish glint in Jim’s eyes, staring back up at you. They’re so blue, you think you could drown in them. But, you fight to shake yourself out of the trance.

“It’s hard not to when you’re… looking at it,” you complain, laughing nervously.

“Hey, don’t be embarrassed - I mean it. You’re beautiful.”

Your cheeks burn hotter than ever as Jim continues.

“Every part of you is beautiful.”

He kisses your leg again, and before you have a chance to respond, his lips have moved over your core, and you gasp. Jim’s mouth is warm and wet; his tongue pressed flat against you as he gives you a moment to get used to the sensation. It’s so different from anything you’ve ever felt. Of course, you had touched yourself there before - but Jim’s tongue is nothing like the rough pads of your fingers. It’s so soft, and you feel yourself sink further into the mattress, prompting a low creak from the ancient bedframe.

Jim’s tongue moves just a centimeter, brushing up against your clit as he sucks gently into his mouth. You can’t help the soft sigh that leaves you, or the way your fingers grab onto the bed sheets, fabric bunching up in your grip.

“How’s that feel, love?” Jim asks, breaking away.

“It’s… wow,” you answer, already a little out of breath.

“Rave reviews,” Jim jokes, smile creeping back over his face. “Tell all your friends, yeah?”

You have half a mind to shove him, if only you could find the willpower to reach down between your legs. As it is, all you can do is let out another breathy sigh. Your body feels strangely heavy, and you use every ounce of your strength to move your hips down toward him.

“Jim… more,” you plead.

You expect him to make another quip, but instead, you feel his tongue press against you again, the fan of his breath tickling you as he sighs happily. Your fingers curl, and your back arches. One of Jim’s hands comes up to find yours, peeling your fingers out from the blankets so that they can intertwine with his. You squeeze his hand, feeling yourself grow more and more desperate as the swirl of new sensations overwhelm you.

“J-Jim-”

You barely get to start your sentence before the pleasure reaches its peak, washing over you like the rays of soft sunlight still pouring in through the windows. Your sharp cry turns into a gasp, breath hitching as your whole body seems to buzz. Jim’s hand in yours anchors you, as his lips kiss you gently through your release.

When he sits up, Jim’s face is just a bit too smug.

“What are you smiling at?” you groan, throwing your head back into the pillow to stare up at the ceiling.

“Making you feel good,” Jim answers sincerely.

He kisses his way back up your body, finally pressing his lips to your shoulder and leaving another small bite.

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

You sigh, letting all of the air leave your lungs. The pause lingers for a brief moment before you answer.

“Like I’m floating.”

“That good, huh?”

You can practically hear the smirk in Jim’s voice. Weakly, you bat at his arms.

“Don’t get all cocky,” you warn.

“I thought that’s what you wanted.”

Jim really is unbearable. You look at each other for a moment, Jim’s eyes fixed intently on your face, while you can still hardly focus on what’s in front of you. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

“Still want to keep going?” Jim asks you.

“Mmmm,” you sigh, nodding your head.

Jim’s hand slides down to cup your sex, one finger brushing against your entrance. He leans up to kiss you properly, pausing at the feel of your tongue in his mouth as you press past his lips. Whatever you had tasted there before was gone; replaced by your own slightly tangy arousal. Jim groans, and a deep hum fills your mouth.

“Let me know if you want me to stop,” he whispers.

But as soon as he pushes past your resistance, you know there’s no chance of you stopping him. The stretch is too good. You’ve done this before to yourself, too - but your fingers are slender compared to Jim’s. His fill you up and have you nearly seeing stars as you cling to him, moving to grasp his arms for support.

“Feels good?”

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak. The stretch only stings a little bit, and you’re so wet you barely even notice. The pleasure takes over as Jim pumps in and out of you, coating his finger with your slick.

“One more,” you beg.

“Be patient,” Jim scolds, as he continues to slowly work you open. “Try to relax a bit more.”

You do; letting your body settle down onto the mattress. As you relax your muscles, trying to focus again on your steady breathing, Jim kisses the edge of your jaw.

“Okay,” he says. “Tell me if this is too much.”

Despite your best attempts to loosen up, the addition of a second finger is just a bit painful, stretching you beyond anything you’ve felt before. You jump, a little surprised, then relax into the feel of it.

“Still alright?”

“Mmm-hm,” you reply, breathing slowly out through your nose.

“Good,” Jim breathes. “Doing so well for me, love.”

His words make you melt, and you feel yourself clenching around his fingers. Jim lets out a low moan.

“Fuck,” he laughs. “You’re gonna feel amazing. Can’t wait ‘til you’re wrapped around me.”

There’s that familiar heat on your face, rushing in as Jim makes your whole body burn with his words yet again. Not as filthy as before, but somehow the genuine lust in his voice is even worse. You feel him yearning for you; still pressed hard against your leg as he patiently stretches you out. You tilt your head back into the pillows, silently begging him to kiss your neck, and Jim’s lips press over your pulse.

“Jim?” you sigh.

“Hm?”

“Can you please stop stalling and fuck me now?”

You feel Jim smirk against your neck, clearly enjoying the fact that you have a dirty mouth, too - when you want to. He presses one more kiss to your collarbone.

“Stalling, am I? First time I’ve heard a girl call it that.”

Jim laughs, briefly, and you feel his breath fan over you again.

“I’d ask if you’re sure you’re ready,” he taunts. “But I really don’t think I’ve ever made anyone this wet before.”

You’re so turned on you almost forget to be embarrassed, but the feeling of Jim shifting to line up with your entrance is enough to make that burning heat creep over your cheeks again.

“Are you ready, though?” Jim asks, kissing you quickly before pulling back to let you answer.

“I am.”

You reach up to wrap your arms tight around him again as he sinks into you, pressing forward inch by inch. Your eyes widen by the time he’s halfway in, shocked at how it just keeps going. Jim feels your hesitation and stops.

“Everything alright?” he pants. Clearly, Jim is having a bit of trouble composing himself, too.

“It’s fine,” you reply. “Just… big.”

Jim laughs, a little more strained than usual as your walls press all around him.

“You’ll really have to stop stroking my ego like that if you want this to last more than five minutes, love,” he teases.

“Jim…” you start to complain.

“I know, I know. ‘Shut up and fuck me,’ she says,” Jim mutters. He presses into you a bit more, and a soft, desperate sigh leaves your lips. “Or at least, she would if she could think straight,” he continues.

He’s right; you’re not thinking of anything other than him, and how he’s filling you up so completely. Stretching out your walls and touching places inside of you that you didn’t know even existed, until now. Replacing the dull ache of your arousal with an unfamiliar pressure - but certainly not an unwelcome one.

“How’s it feel?” Jim asks.

“It’s… different. Feels kind of weird,” you admit.

“Okay, you don’t have to keep my ego in check that much,” Jim laughs. His eyes meet yours for a brief second, and then close. “But, fuck, you feel so fucking good.”

Jim’s face dips down to your shoulder, and you can tell that he’s barely still able to hold it together. Although you had been joking earlier, you’re certain that it truly has been months for Jim. You can’t say for sure when the last time he got laid was, but it had to have been before the start of everything. Poor guy. This is the perfect opportunity to mess with him. Call it payback for all the teasing.

“Alright,” you sigh, trying to keep your voice light and jovial. It’s harder than it should be when your heart is pounding out of your chest. “I got what I wanted out of you; we can stop now.”

Jim groans above you, his forehead pressing even deeper into the crook of your shoulder.

“You’re joking,” he whines, one hand gripping at your waist. His fingers tighten a little. “Please say you’re joking.”

You stay silent, lips pursed together in a barely-contained smile. Jim pulls back to look at you, and instantly notices the smug look on your face.

“You’re unbelievable,” Jim huffs, pressing his lips against your neck once again in a hungry kiss.

He pinches your hip, making you squirm. Jim steadies you, holding you in place as he plants another kiss on your lips, then pulls back.

“We haven’t even gotten to the good part yet,” he teases.

“You mean the good part wasn’t watching you almost cum all over the sheets just from eating me out?”

Now it’s Jim’s turn to be flustered, and you watch with delight as a soft dusting of pink crosses his cheeks.

“You’d better watch it,” Jim says, squeezing you again. “I was gonna be gentle, you know. But if you keep this up, I might just have to fuck you silly.”

You giggle, the sound of your bright laughter filling the room. For a few seconds, the only thing in the world that matters is Jim. Every moment that’s brought you here, no matter how painfully etched in stone, is worth it to be here with him.

“Will you, though?” you say, bringing Jim’s face a bit closer so yours can look into his eyes. “Be gentle?”

“Of course,” Jim hums, leaning down to kiss your soft lips. “Are you still feeling okay?”

“Yes…”

And you are. You've gotten used to the stretch, and the strange pressure has built into a need that has you fighting to stop yourself from pushing up against Jim’s hips, desperate for friction.

“You sure?” Jim asks, sensing that something has been left unsaid.

“I just… I want to feel you move,” you admit, hiding your face in the crook of his neck.

Jim turns his head to kiss your temple, letting his lips hover over your warm skin.

“That's the good part, love,” Jim teases. “Wrap your legs around me,’kay?”

You do as he says, bringing your legs up to fold around his waist. It causes Jim to hit at a new angle inside you, and for a second you think about backing out. This feels like it could be too much; like he's able to press too deeply inside of you - and the thought of giving someone else so much of yourself is daunting.

But when Jim starts to move, gently and carefully, all of your worries disappear. The first few times he thrusts feel a bit strange, but soon, the feeling is making you lightheaded in the best possible way. Not to mention the way that the swell of his head seems to part you, making you clench at his absence and sigh in pure bliss when he fills you back up. You can feel every inch of yourself as he slowly rocks in and out, hips staying close to avoid overwhelming you.

“Jim!” you cry, squeezing your legs around him a little harder.

“You like it there?” he grunts, his voice gentle but laced with desire.

He changes his angle to hit the spot again, and this time your fingers press into his back. Jim kisses you, swallowing your moans as you feel yourself building toward your release. This time, with Jim pressing deep inside you, you feel yourself clamp down around him.

“Gonna come for me again, pretty girl?” Jim whispers.

Your body is too rigid to even nod as you feel it finally wash over you - a wave of pleasure more intense than you can handle. You're panting and laughing all at once as Jim presses kisses all over your face.

“That was incredible,” he praises, softly.

You look up to see him, his face framed so perfectly in the glow of the morning light. His lips are slightly parted, awe plainly written in the way his eyes trail over you. You have a sudden urge to run your fingers through his cropped hair, and press his mouth to yours.

But instead, Jim leans down to give you another gentle kiss. That taste on his lips is back again, slightly sweet and utterly addictive.

“Enjoy your first time, love?” Jim teases, pulling himself out of you with one final, toe-curling drag. He kisses you again, lips pressed firm against yours like there’s truly nowhere else in the world he’d rather be.

You surface from your post-sex haze just long enough to be confused. Aren't these things supposed to end with a little more… bravado?

“Jim, aren't you gonna…? Don't you want to…?”

“Not this time, love,” he cuts in. “Like I said, don't want to hurt you.”

“You wouldn’t hurt me!” you protest.

Jim pauses, still hovering just above you. He leans down to whisper in your ear, his low voice getting a shade darker.

“Maybe not, but I do think I might break the poor bed if I let myself do everything I want to ya,” he murmurs.

“We can sleep on the floor,” you say, responding without hesitation.

Jim laughs softly, trailing his fingers over the swell of your hip. He pulls back to look at you again, blue eyes swimming with lust.

“Don't worry, love - you look so good like this, I'm not gonna be able to resist it for long. But for now…”

Jim flops down onto the rickety bed, pulling you with him to rest on his chest. The rhythmic rise and fall of his breath makes you feel calm, soothing you all the way down from your high. Jim brings a hand up to cradle your neck, pressing you into him just a bit more so that he can lean down to kiss your forehead.

As you lay there together, your eyes flutter closed.

“Jim?”

“Mm?”

“Thank you.”

“For what?” he scoffs.

Same playful Jim that you first fell for, weeks ago now. You can't help but smile, and snuggle up a bit closer.

“For always being here for me,” you answer.

“Of course, love.” Jim's breaths are slowing down now, lulling you into the same sleep that he's quickly falling into. “Any time.”

You kiss him, lips pressing into his bare chest, and Jim’s arms squeeze you tightly. As the sunlight streams in through the dusty windows, blanketing both of you in its warmth, you realize just how lucky you are. You press an ear against his chest, listening to the thrum of Jim’s heartbeat.

#jim 28 days later #jim 28 days later x reader #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut #28 days later smut #jim 28 days later smut #LemmyFics

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wintersera · 9 months

Note

I just dropped from masters to diamond in Overwatch ranked and I’m gonna cry but besides that

I been thinking of like shy g!p gym rat kazuha that like you go to the gym with her one time and someone is flirting with you in front of her and she just gets mad and fucks you like I have one of the biggest crushes in this girl man

-🐈‍⬛

cw: public sex, g!p kazuha, oral (giving)

anon… please carry me 😭 i used to be hard stuck gold back in ow1. good luck if you’re tryna climb back uo to master!!

but anyways YES shy g!p gym rat zuha you say?? ouhh girly invited you to go to the gym one day with her bc yk workouts RAAAHH💪 GAINS💪💪 jokes-😭 its more of a poor excuse to get you to wear gym clothes (the ones where you can SEE 👀 everything) and its also another poor excuse to get you to see her abs and biceps 🤤

well zuha is,, shy and doesn’t know how to talk to women correctly, even you 😭 yeah you guys are friends and she sees you in a non friend way partner like ooooh she has a crush on youuu 🤭 like she doesn’t even know why you stick around with her bc she doesn’t really talk that much, only bc she doesn’t know what exactly to say to you.

anywayss,,, you two were just doing regular gym stuff. you trying to bench press at least more than you usually do and zuha is spotting you like the good gym rat she is :)) and then a random man had the audacity to talk to you while you were lifting heavy ass weights?? LIKE MOOOVEE?;!;?:??;

“hey cutie, do you want me to help you? those seem too heavy for your pretty hands to hold?”

oh man,, zuha had never felt this pissed off before- like she was getting bolddd,, all that shyness she once had leaves her body as soon as that man opened his mouth.

mhmhm yk where this is going,, had to shove that man away from the bench, like fr shove him tf away 😭😭 she’s strong as hell so she had no issues with pushing a guy out the way- anwyays after she did all that, she grabbed your hand and dragged you to the changing rooms :)) as she was feeling extra bold today she wanted to yk relieve some of the tension AND there’s definitely gonna be some tension relieving 🤭

you noticed her bulge showing through her compression pants (bc she’s simply just that big 🤤) and being the good friend you are, you ask to suck her off? now normally shy zuha would say something like “ah- no it’s okay you don’t have to” :<< BUT SHE WAS FEELING PISSED,, accepting your offer bc she needed to feel less stressed abt the situation-

already ready to get cock sucked, she’s lifting your hair up in a makeshift ponytail, pulling you closer and closer to herd bulge,, you sliding down her sweatpants and her compression pants her cock springs up and hits the side of your face 😳😳

makes you deepthroat her so quickly that i catches you wayyyy off guard. zuha head pusher fr!! like she’s so caught up in the pleasure that she doesn’t realise she’s moving her hands on there own,, having two hands on your head moving it to her will AUGH ZUHAAA?:!/: doesn’t even give you time to breath, her mind thinking of cumming all over your pretty face.

cock twitching in you mouth, her legs starting to shake- ouuhh she was close to cumming. now mind you, you’re in a PUBLIC changing room with those stalls. zuha, on the verge of cumming, bites her lip as continues to rock her hips into your mouth. feeling your hot tongue on the base of her cock, she lets her senses wash over her body- muffled moans as she’s making sure no one could hear her cum,, finally letting go of your head once she’s poured out all her semen down your throat :))

—

a/n: this isn’t proofread yet- it’s 5am and i’m about to snooze i’ll edit it it when i wake up 😭

#wintersera #kaye: imagines!!#le sserafim smut #g!p le sserafim #g!p kazuha #le sserafim kazuha smut #le sserafim x fem reader smut #le sserafim x reader smut #nakamura kazuha smut #kpop smut #girl group smut #kpop girl group smut #fem!reader

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nhl-stories · 8 months

Text

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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heliza24 · 1 year

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Hey, hope you’re doing well. I loved reading your analysis on Simon and Marcus. Speaking of those two, I’d like to read your take on their final confrontation in the last episode.

There’s a lot of mixed opinions on what Marcus said to Simon. Some would say that Marcus was absolutely correct in saying that Simon always plays the victim and loves the drama and that Simon needed to hear that. Others would say that Simon is a victim and that Marcus was out of line.

That line, “you see yourself as some victim among those rich brats” really rubbed me the wrong way. I’m not sure how Simon ending things with Marcus correlates to Marcus thinking Simon plays the victim at Hillerska. Plus it makes no sense too. What does Marcus even know about Simon? That he can sing, had an intimate video released, the prince screwed him over and he had an alcoholic father. He knows absolutely nothing about Simon’s social life at Hillerska. He never knew about the drug situation or the music room fight in season 2 episode 5. So where did that line come from? And if anyone was playing the victim here it’s Marcus. Simon warned him, he didn’t listen and then he got hurt. How are YOU not gonna listen then entirely blame someone for your decisions when you got hurt. Marcus can only blame himself.

Then the whole, “you say don’t want drama but that’s what turns you on”. Saying that to someone who just had their tape released is cruel. Like tf.

And honestly, was their relationship something to get upset over? They hung out 4 times, kissed 3 times (2 of which were initiated by Marcus), a bunch of ghosting and they never got to the talking phase. They know next to nothing about each other. And when they hung out, Simon looked uncomfortable and uninterested most of the time. I know some people can’t take the hint but Marcus was on another level of blind. And it doesn’t help that Simon already told him that he was not ready for anything serious. This “relationship” was doomed from the start.

What are your thoughts and analysis on Simon and Marcus’ final conversation? Thanks in advance for taking your time to answer.

Hey there anon! Thanks for sending me your thoughts about Simon and Marcus. I have to say I agree with you! I am in full sympathy with Simon through all of his and Marcus’s arguments, and I do agree that some of the things Marcus says are pretty cruel. I dated someone a very long time ago, when I was not that much older than Simon, who treated me in the same way that Marcus treats Simon, so I find him pretty infuriating. And I think it means I have some insight into the dynamic of their relationship and how it breaks down.

In order to understand their final breakup scene, I actually think we need to backtrack to 2.3 when Simon first tries to end the relationship. To me this is the most enraging Marcus moment, and I think it illuminates the fundamental problem going on here. While Simon is trying to break up with Marcus, Marcus focuses on everything except Simon’s actual feelings in an effort to convince him not to leave. First it’s Wilhelm. Marcus thinks that Simon must be worried that he will hurt Simon in the same way Wilhelm did. Marcus claims to never have seen the tape (an assertion @bluedalahorse and I think might be a lie, but that’s headcanon), and assures Simon that he would never do something like that. Then it’s Simon’s family; he assumes that because Simon’s parents didn’t have a healthy relationship, Simon must not know how to appreciate a healthy partnership. This is the thing that Marcus says that grinds my gears the most. For him just to assume that he knows the extent and effect of Micke’s addiction, possible abuse, and abandonment of Simon is so presumptuous.

To be generous to Marcus here, I think this is a perfect example of a theory of mind issue. Theory of mind “refers to the capacity to understand other people by ascribing mental states to them” (that’s from the wiki definition). Instead of seeing who Simon is, and trying to understand Simon’s emotions as he describes them, Marcus has created an image of Simon in his head. He has decided how the abuse (both familial and the video) that Simon has endured has affected him, and has also decided what Simon needs in order to heal those wounds. Crucially, Marcus has decided that Simon needs Marcus’s help to heal. Marcus is doing this out of generosity; wanting to heal Simon is a nice thought. But the violation here is in the assumption. Marcus never finds out how Simon really feels because he never listens to him. And you could maybe go as far to say that assuming that Simon needs to be “fixed” because of those experiences is a violation too. Those experiences are what makes Simon who he is.

To be less generous, I once had a very similar argument with my then partner, where I was trying to break up and he was trying to get me to stay. I was left feeling defeated, and like he had made such a good argument that I had to stay. His approach was similar to Marcus’s. He poked at all of my emotional bruises (and claimed to understand them better than me) until I felt too confused to assert my boundaries. So I really feel for Simon in that scene.

Another thing I want to mention is that Marcus is in some ways Simon’s antagonist, and his insistence that he knows and understands Simon better than Simon knows himself is the catalyst that prompts Simon’s season 2 arc, which is about him getting in touch with, accepting, and then acting on his true emotions. I wrote about that more in depth here.

There’s another element to Marcus that I don’t see discussed much, which is the unique spot he occupies in the class system of the show. We’re used to seeing the upper, noble class that dominates Hillerska, and the working class represented by Sara and Simon (and also Rosh and Ayub). But Marcus is a representative of a kind of in between, and at first glance appears to be middle class. He goes to public school, and does manual labor at the stables. His little backyard apartment feels like something an upper middle class family might create for their teenage son. But his parents are actually land owners. They own the stables and the shooting range that they rent out to Hillerska. We never find out if Marcus’s family is actually noble and inherited that land, or if they’re new money and bought it on their own. But I think some of Marcus’s superiority complex comes from the fact that even though he has money, he isn’t, in his mind, spoiled or snobby like the kids at Hillerska. He surely could have gotten a place at Hillerska, for instance, because of the way his family supports the school. He surely doesn’t have to work to survive (I am basing this on the fact that his family has enough money to build him his own apartment.) But he stays humble and grounded by going to public school and working at the stables. He’s so humble and good, in fact, that he is going to treat working class Simon right, unlike that stuck up prince who threw him to the royal wolves. And some of the way that he turns on Simon in their break up scene, especially in the line you quoted– “you see yourself as some victim among those rich brats”-- feels like he has taken off his mask, and is exposing the classist way he actually sees Simon. If Simon, poor boy that he is, isn’t willing to let the benevolent Marcus rescue him, then he deserves everything those rich bastards can dish out. There’s also a shade of bootstrap mentality here. Marcus works hard, even if his family has money. He’s earned his driver’s license, and he knows exactly the kind of relationship that he wants with Simon. Why can’t Simon do the same?

Obviously the answer is because Simon is a different person from a different set of circumstances. And then we’re back to Marcus’s inability to see Simon as a complete independent person.

So I completely agree with you when you say that Marcus is cruel in this scene, and misinterpreted Simon’s level of interest, and is making a big deal out of a relationship that never really existed in the first place. But I also think we as viewers are reacting to some of the subtle themes that Marcus represents. The way he fits into the class structure of the show and the way that he connects to Simon’s arc is really significant.

I know Lisa and Tommy were very positive about Marcus in some of the season 2 promo, in a way that irritated some fans. But I think I understand where they’re coming from. Marcus does have good intentions, even if those intentions are only skin deep, and it’s ok to acknowledge them. Tommy especially has to exist in Marcus’s mindset in order to play him, and it’s fundamental to Marcus’s character that he sees himself as a good guy. And for Lisa, Marcus is a great character because he challenges Simon and adds complexity to the way class is explored in the show. It’s hard to summarize all of that in an interview, especially in a way that isn’t going to result in fan backlash. So I don’t have a problem with how they portrayed him in promo.

Thanks for asking anon, and thank you for reading what turned out to be quite a long post! I think we all have some unresolved Marcus trauma that we need to work through. I know I did at least.

#young royals #my meta #ask box #marcus young royals #simon eriksson

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jiminiesfavouritecolourisblue · 2 months

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Just gonna hop onto the previous anons question about tropes, (excuse the ramble) but I couldn’t help but agree with your take on the yandere trope!!

No hate to anyone, but I just wish there were more yandere fics out there where the mc wasn’t at risk of losing a limb!! Like, make them sick and twisted. Make the yandere commit utter atrocities for their darling, but make them in the name of love, as obsessive and twisted as theirs is. If I don’t leave the fic questioning my sense of morality, I don’t want it, lol. I just can’t see a yandere who would kill someone for looking at the mc wrong; feel alright with causing lasting damage to their so! It’s why I like Lovesick so much, definitely some hiccups on the boys' parts, and I’ve never felt so genuinely split between wanting the boys back or the mc leaving!! (Absolutely love it!!)

Anyways, I was really curious about how you feel about angst? Do you prefer fics to remain within a certain word limit? I’ve had some people say they won’t touch fics that are just too long, so I was really curious on your take with that!

Love your work and take care!~ <33

Ramble away my lovely you’ve articulated yourself so well! I completely agree, and I have read some messed up yandere fics and novels (haunting Adeline anyone?) but some I’ve read I just completely switch off especially if I can’t feel the yandere’s “love” for the character, if it’s just pure possession or obsession with no softness I’m like no 😵‍💫 I cannot I’m sorry

And OMFD I need to catch up with lovesick, I was completely hooked and then I didn’t touch tumblr for ages and now there are so many chapters to binge but no time to binge them 😭 I’ve got a week off coming up soon I might just do it then but I’ve also started the ACOTAR series and I’m hooked with that too

@angelicyoongie is one of my favourite writers on this site, the way Maggy writes is just 👌🏽👌🏽👌🏽 the woman is younger than me but she’s my role model for sure

I can read more than one thing at a time though I’m currently reading 3 books at the same time (and making no progress 🤦🏽‍♀️🤷🏽‍♀️)

I have a love hate relationship with angst, I love it as a writer and admire other writers who do it well, it kills me as a reader because it just hurts like hell 😭 if it’s ripped my heart out then it’s an A class fic

And to be honest I don’t mind word limits I think it depends what you want to read, sometimes you just want a drabble but sometimes you want a full on novella where you can get deep into the feeling. I think the longest oneshot fic I’ve read on tumblr was 40k words and I loved it. Chapters long fics are even better there’s more to digest, it’s hard to find a fic your craving sometimes so always good to have lots of words of it

#ask me things #welcome to my rant and ramble series

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luffyvace · 4 months

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Hey there brook! I hope u having a nice day! Can I ask for a luffy x heroic fem reader headcanon? by heroic I mean that she completely dedicated her life to help and save ppl and that her purpose in life, she's strong and seems cold but when u get to know her she has empathy more than anyone else, I feel like this is the perfect character that luffy would fall in love with, pure kindness hiding behind a tough facade, she doesn't even like being called a hero, yet she is willing to do anything for those in need, slaves, poor villages, she goes against anything unjust without any fear, cause thats her purpose in life (sorry if that was too long 💀)

Hi anon <33 (it makes me so happy that someone finally addressed me as that💗)

today was a very chill day 😊 thank you! How’s yours?

Reader sounds so genuine with such a good background for a op character!!

(Don’t worry it’s not too long—I love to read:3)

Ngl luffy subconsciously sees a little bit of himself in you!!

like your hearts are so similar—gold!

of course he doesn’t directly think that way- but he feels the connection!

which is through helping!

you two never turn your backs on those who have never wronged you

its not even about if they’re on your side or not, as long as they haven’t wrong you? and they need help?

the both of you are on it 🤜🤛👍

you wanting to save others becomes admirable to more than just him, to all of the straw hats—chopper and usopp especially!

I’m gonna go ahead and say it here and now you remind both Jinbe and luffy of whitebeard and fishman island type thing

LIKE THAT’S HOW IT IS!!

Y/n is just her tbh 🤷‍♀️

and if the ops don’t like that? 🤨

🤜💥

how you like that? >:)

your strength may or may not be hereditary but either way if you don’t continue training or working out your gonna loose that strength eventually

which shows just how hard you train everyday!!

bro works harder than zoro 🗿

and we all know he don’t sleep on workin out

so y/n is a gorilla the og

its no wonder you be cookin the ops like breakfast👩‍🍳👍

this is literally turning into a rant about me being (name)’s biggest fan ok let’s move on

luffy saw you cold exterior and was like

😍😍😘🥰😘💍💋💋💋

LOLOLOL no but fr he looked straight past that

he always does- he ignored law’s and zoro’s why wouldn’t he with you-

and once he sees your true kindness???

Locked in like a booty hole 🔗

(ANYWAY I HAD TO🧍‍♀️)

yeah he pretty much busts right through that

he pretty much instantly demands you already are is nakama after that

Your empathy is what really swoops him off his feet tho

like luffy has a good sense of empathy so much so he can hear the voice of all things

and you probably can too! It’s highly likely!

(y/n could have her own anime at this point 🤷‍♀️😚)

But seriously the way he can just feel the way you long for others when they’re in pain just gets him right at the heartstrings you know?! 🥺❤️‍🩹

you comfort them so assuredly and keep your promise to win every time !!

luffy would admire himself more than he would know if he realized how alike the two of you are

tbh you probably admire luffy!!

like it’s a mutual thing, where you pretty much don’t see your own coolness you only see the other’s

so you admire each other unaware that your the same 😂💗

he absolutely adores and admires that empathetic part of you thoo!

he loves how your kind and tough

he wholeheartedly believes the strong should protect the weak, cuz that’s what a man does.

especially with nakama.

so he definitely understands your need to protect those who can’t do it for themselves

there are many times he can recall where he had to rely on others

so he loves that your the one who does that for people

and you don’t do it for the money or fame!

you don’t even view yourself as the hero and savior that bystanders see you as!

that’s so cool to him!

you background/past might’ve caused it! Like maybe you had no superhero! So you decided to become one!

he kinda looks up to you in a way 🤩

as someone who has also helped slaves and the poor he completely understands where you come from in your kindness

and it’s even cooler that you charge head on into battle for others without a second thought

that’s just how tough you are ᕦ(ò_óˇ)ᕤ

not an ounce of fear in your eyes as you walk up to someone 20x the size of you to simply get back the bread they stole from a poor little child

LIKE HOW COOL IS THAT?! 💥💥

your a super hero!! Dundun duh-duuuuuun!!

🦸‍♀️‼️🤩

you have a goal just like him!! He wants to be the king of pirates and you wanna help others!

With the type of pirate he is?, those things go hand in hand 🤝

”STRAW HAT LUFFY AND PIRATE HERO (NAME) IS HERE!! RUN AWAY!!”

says the pirates who know they’ve done wrong doing!! 😎

also excuse (name)’s lame pirate alias i couldn’t think of one 😊💖

(Name) is so cool 😎 I admire her 💓

hope you enjoyed your hcs anon!! *super heroes away🦸‍♀️🚀*

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1986harrington · 2 years

Note

hi! can i request steve with, “It’s pouring rain why are you here?” + “I love you.” “Tell me that when you’re sober.” from the prompt list? (maybe reader randomly shows up to steves drunk?) <3.

Hey anon! I'm so sorry I'm such an awful human being and this took so long, but here it is! It's over 3k so hopefully worth the wait ahssnndks

::readmore::

“What d’you mean you don’t know where she is?” Steve demanded, incredulous.

It had been no more than twenty minutes since you’d called him, words slurred down the phone and practically incoherent over the sound of music blaring from a stereo in the background. He managed to determine that you were at yet another of Chelsea Carlton’s parties, which shouldn’t have been hard to guess since all you seemed to do these days was hang around with people you never used to be able to stand, and get drunk in the process.

He wasn’t sure if you’d been asking him to come get you, the call cutting off before he could really make sense of why you were calling. But if there was even the smallest chance that you needed him there, he couldn’t risk not showing up.

It had been almost a month since you’d broken up, and it definitely hadn’t been a mutual thing. Steve had walked around in a perpetual daze for at least 48 hours, trying to make sense of everything you’d said.

“I love you so much, more than anything. But it’s not enough if you don’t feel the same.”

“You know everything there is to know about me. There’s nothing I wouldn’t tell you, but you’re holding something back from me, and I need to know what it is.”

“I can’t do this anymore if you’re not gonna be honest with me.”

“If you really loved me, you would tell me. If there’s someone else, please just put me out of my misery. Please.”

“I'm done. We're over, okay? I can’t do it anymore.”

Those words lived inside his head on a constant, tortuous loop. Three, four, five times a day since, he’s considered telling you the truth.

About the Upside Down; about what really happened to Will Byers; how Barb and Chrissy really died; how he got those scars he could never explain to you; why he slept with the hallway light on and woke up in the night, sweating and panting and scrambling for his baseball bat he kept under the bed.

But he couldn’t be that selfish.

He couldn’t turn your whole world upside down, drag you into the danger that came with knowing about all that stuff, the fear that would plague you once you knew the truth.

He’d have done anything to keep you.

Anything, except the one thing you needed him too.

He wouldn’t ruin your life.

So he didn’t deny it when you said he was keeping something from you. He didn’t object when you implied he didn’t love you enough, and fuck, he didn’t correct you when you asked him straight to his face if there was someone else.

He just stood and watched you fall apart, let you sob and hit at this chest with frustration when he couldn’t even do you the courtesy of answering out loud. He hoped the look in his eyes would be enough; a silent, unspoken apology for everything he was putting you through. But you still left his house that night in tears, car tearing off down his driveway only to pull in a couple hundred yards down the street, head falling back against the headrest - eyes closed and streaming with tears as your hands beat at the steering wheel.

Steve smashed up his house that night - his fist through the bathroom mirror, the desk by his window flipped over and contents scattered across the floor, beside lamp smashed with a swing of his bat, until he was sitting amongst broken glass and splintered wood wondering how the hell he had fucked this all up so badly.

***

He’d been a little surprised that first weekend when he heard you were at a party. Sure, you’d always been up for a good time with your friends - but Chelsea Carlton and her minions? Those people weren’t your friends.

Curiosity had gotten the better of him that night and he’d shown up at Chelsea’s house, loitering in the doorway trying to catch a glimpse of you.

And he did. And you looked beautiful. And he felt his chest crack open at the sight of you.

Then he watched on as half the basketball team circled you like sharks, all bright smiles and dark eyes that raked over you and Steve felt his keys dig into the palm of his hand as his grip around them tightened.

You may have been drinking, but you still had your wits about you and he’d be lying if he said his heart didn’t swell a little with pride as he watched you shut them all down, a sweet but stern smile on your face as each of them cut their losses and moved along.

By the next week, word had reached him that you were going on a date, and he was almost sick then and there over the counter at Family Video. Robin being Robin made an excuse for him to dip, and he made his way to the bathroom, hands on his knees and back against the door as he caught his breath.

The following Sunday, he was at work again when he overheard that the date hadn’t gone well at all. Two girls, who didn’t even know you, were giggling over the fact they saw you storming out of Drew Kellerman’s truck at the drive-in, door slammed behind you and tears in your eyes.

His first instinct had been to reach for the phone, to call you and make sure you were okay. To ask if that asshole had hurt you or touched you or so much as looked at you in a way you didn’t like. But Robin had caught his wrist, told him she’d already checked and you were fine - just embarrassed by your own public outburst but totally okay. His shoulders sagged in relief, but he still set the receiver back down with a bang, cursing under his breath as he headed outside for some air.

What Robin didn't tell him was that you also told her the only thing wrong with her date with Drew Kellerman was that he wasn't Steve.

The next weekend, by some miracle, both Steve and Robin had the Saturday off and Nancy and Jonathon were both back visiting from college.

They were heading out for a day on the lake when Steve realized they needed to stop for gas. He was so preoccupied trying to fish his wallet out of the glove box that he didn’t realize the car in front was yours.

You had just set the pump back into place and turned around to head inside to pay when you spotted him, only a few feet away. Your chest felt tight, like suddenly there was no air and all you could smell was gas and all you could see was Steve and you were sure you were on the verge of passing out. He cleared his throat then, shifting awkwardly on his feet and you darted around him, legs moving on their own accord and taking you inside.

The cashier was serving painfully slowly, so you were still in line to pay by the time Steve joined the queue behind you. He kept a safe distance, but it was still too close. He could smell the faint strawberry scent of your shampoo that used to cling to his pillows and the coconut body lotion he used to help you smooth over your shoulders. Your breath hitched, and you swore you could feel the heat radiating from his chest onto your back. Your knees felt shaky, like any second now they’d just give out. You thought about what would happen then - how you had no doubt Steve would catch you, strong arms wrapped around your waist, mouth against your ear asking if you were okay, and suddenly you wanted to run out of the gas station and risk the repercussions of skipping out without paying.

That was the last time he’d seen or heard about you, until the phone call.

***

“What d’you mean you don’t know where she is?” Steve demanded, incredulous.

His eyes scanned the crowd of bodies surrounding them in the kitchen of Chelsea’s mansion, the air cloudy with cigarette smoke making it hard to see and the music thumping from the stereo system one room over making it even harder to hear and he couldn't think straight.

“Like I said, one second she was here, the next? Poof!” Robin explained, a typically exaggerated hand gesture accompanying the ‘poof’.

“And you didn’t think to call me?!” Steve worried, one hand running anxiously through his hair, the front pieces falling into his eyes.

“I didn’t exactly know you two were on speaking terms now!” Robin yelled back, defensive and kind of offended at being so out of the loop.

“We’re-” Steve started, exasperated at not being able to finish the sentence because quite frankly, he didn’t know what you were to each other now.

“We’re not.” He finally settled on. “But she called me. And if she called me, of all people, then something must be wrong.”

Robin sighed, a sympathetic but frustrated expression on her face. “Look, Steve, I get it. You’re in love with the girl, and you’re miserable without her, and she’s miserable without you - but you're both my friends, so until you get your heads out of your asses, do me a favor and leave me out of it?”

Steve knew it was unfair to put Robin in the middle like this, so he didn’t argue when she turned her attention back to an unusually tense game of flip cup that had drawn in quite the crowd, mumbling something about how you probably just caught a ride home with someone and she’d call you in the morning.

***

By the time Steve had searched every room, closet and outbuilding on the Carlton property and confirmed you were nowhere to be found, the weather had taken a turn. The already dark sky was thunderous, raining falling harsh against the sidewalk as he made his way back to his car. He hadn’t been driving more than five minutes when the first flash of lightning forked across the sky, cursing under his breath at the thought of you wandering around on your own drunk on a night like this.

He went to your house first and parked two houses up, like always, to avoid waking your dad. The single-story layout made it easy for him to look in through your window, your bed still made and room in darkness.

“Shit,” He muttered, wiping rain from his face and heading back to the car.

He spent the next hour driving around the streets of Hawkins, stopping off at any place he thought you might be until he decided to go home and try to call you again.

As his car rolled up the driveway, the headlights illuminated his front porch, and all the air left his lungs when he saw you sitting on the bottom step.

The rain was still falling, hard and fast, but you were already soaked and so was Steve. He yanked the keys from the ignition and climbed out the car, leaning his forearms on the top of the door and dropping his head down on to them.

He stood like that for a second, letting the relief settle in that you were okay - that all the worst-case scenarios of you being hurt or in trouble that had been running through his head for the last hour and a half hadn’t amounted to anything.

You stood up before he moved, taking a few tentative steps towards him, the car door he was still leaning on separating you both.

When he finally lifted his head to look at you, he could tell you'd been drinking, and he was instantly angry that you’d walked all the way across town so out of it and in this weather. Your dress was clinging to you, the once floaty skirt of it stuck to your mid-thighs, tendrils of hair plastered to your face and droplets of rain dripped from your lashes. He could tell you’d been crying, eyes rimmed red and make-up smeared around them from where you had rubbed at it.

You pulled at the collar of the jacket you were wearing, it having slipped off your shoulder with the weight of the rain, and when you pulled it tight across your front, Steve realized it was one of his that he thought he’d lost a few months back.

It swallowed your frame, but the look of comfort that swept over your face as you clung to it made his chest hurt and all he could think about was how you were still the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen.

“‘You alright?” He asked, pushing off of the door and stepping around it to close it.

You nodded, eyes fixed on his and fingers tugging anxiously at the sleeves of the jacket.

“It’s pouring rain." He stated, as if it wasn't obvious. "What're you doing here?”

You swallow hard, taking another step forward.

“I found it in Chelsea’s guest room closet.” You finally speak up, gesturing to the jacket as if he didn’t know what you were talking about. “You must have left it behind the last time we were there-”

Your voice caught in your throat when you realized the other reason it could be there.

“I mean, unless…” You trail off, head swimming with the idea of Steve with Chelsea, or Steve with any girl that wasn’t you, and suddenly you feel that familiar sensation of being about to pass out wash over you again.

You begin to pull it off, and Steve knows you well enough to know exactly where your head is at, so he reaches forward and takes a gentle but firm hold of your wrists, stopping your hands in their tracks.

“Look at me,” He says, and it's halfway between a command and a plea.

Your eyes lift slowly from where they’d fixed themselves on his hands around yours until you're staring up at him.

“I know I’ve made it hard for you to trust me,” His voice is barely above a whisper, and if you weren’t so focused on clinging to his every word after not hearing his voice for so long, you’d probably struggle to make it out over the sound of the rain.

“But I need you to believe me when I tell you there’s no one else. Never has been.” He says with a shake of his head as if the very idea was ridiculous, because to him it was. “And I never should have let you think for even one second that it was ever a possibility.”

You release a painful, jagged breath you didn’t even know you’d been holding, and suddenly his grip on you is the only thing keeping you upright.

His eyes feel like they're burning into yours and you want desperately to look away because it's too intense with his fingers still pressing into your skin, but you know instantly he’s telling you the truth.

You swallow and nod, and you're almost relieved when he finally drops your hands back down by your sides and you can think half-clearly again.

“You never answered the question,” Steve presses, filling the silence that’s swallowed you both whole.

“What question?” You ask, head still cloudy from the alcohol and just being near him again, although you’re mostly sober now from the long walk you took in the rain.

“What’re you doing here? At my house. Why’d you call me at all?”

He seems genuinely confused, as if there’s no possible reason why you’d still give him the time of day, and you know it’s because he doesn’t feel like he deserves it.

And then you take him by surprise, and you laugh.

It’s short at first, one huff of air from your chest that shakes your shoulders, and then another until your hands are running through your hair before falling down at your sides with a shrug.

“I love you.”

You say it as if it’s so obvious, so simple. And it is.

“Don’t say that.”

“I love you.” You repeat, walking towards him. “I was at Chelsea’s, and I was sad. Even sadder than usual, and so I drank more than usual. But that didn’t help. It just made me miss you more. And all these people were talking to me and crowding me and I couldn’t breathe because none of them were you, and that’s all I wanted. You're all I ever want. When I’m sad, or happy, or lonely, or scared… and I just had to get away from them all, y’know? So I went upstairs to the guest room, and I found your jacket and it smelled just like you and when I put it on it was like I forgot every bad thing that’s ever happened. All the reasons we don’t work just didn’t matter anymore and I needed to hear your voice. So I broke. And I did the one thing I swore I wouldn’t do and I called you. But it was so loud and I couldn’t hear you, and I needed to hear you, Steve. So bad. And I didn’t know if you were coming, so I came here-”

“Can you do me a favour?” He asked, cutting you off mid-ramble and you just nod, taken aback.

“Can you tell me all this when you’re sober tomorrow?”

“Steve, I walked 30 minutes in the rain. I’m sober.”

“Good.”

And just like that he’s on you, all around you, and you feel the horrible, suffocating weight that’s been holding you down for the last month just disappear.

His hands are cupping your face, thumbs grazing your jaw, fingers tangled in the wet knots of your hair and his mouth is warm and familiar against yours. You’re clinging to his wet t-shirt, pulling at it in an attempt to get him closer to you, but his chest is already flat against yours. He drops one hand from your face to tug at your waist and you gasp into his mouth, his tongue slipping in and pulling a moan from you that he can hear even over the rain that’s still falling around you both.

His hand slams down on the roof of the car as your back collides with driver’s side door, arms tangling around his neck and fingers pulling at his hair.

When you’re forced to tilt your face to side, away from his lips to catch your breath, he plants a trail of open-mouthed kisses the length of your throat until he’s met with the wet material of his jacket still hanging off of your shoulders.

“I can drive you home,” He mutters against the warm skin of your neck, face buried in the crook.

“Or?” You ask, breathless as you use both hands to pull his face up to meet yours.

“Or you can stay here.” He offers, and your face lights up, bottom lip pulled between your teeth to try and contain the smile at the thought of spending the night in his bed again.

“With me. If you want. We don’t have to do anything.” He clarifies, hand pushing wet strands of hair out of your face before you lean up and kiss him again.

“I wanna stay. With you.” Your arms loosen from around his neck, hands sliding down his chest until you reach his wrists and pull him towards his front porch.

He lets you lead the way, only dropping your hand to fish his keys out of his back pocket and he laughs so contentedly when your arms wrap around him from behind, your cheek pressed between his shoulder blades as he fumbles with the wet keys in the lock.

You both stumble into the door as it opens, immediately pulling your wet clothing off and letting it drop to the floor. You're back on him instantly, pulling and kissing him towards the stairs to his room and it takes all his strength to take hold of your shoulders and push back lightly.

“Baby, baby, wait,” He breathes, chest heaving as he stares down at you. “There’s a reason this - we didn’t work. There’s so many things I want to tell you, but I can’t. And I don’t wanna go backwards and do anything that’s gonna hurt you or confuse you or-”

“Steve, please,” You cut him off with a shake of your head. “I know all of that but- Can we talk about it tomorrow? I just, I need to be with you. Please?”

“You’re sure?”

You nod, hands bringing his lips back down to yours again, and you feel him give in against your mouth before he pulls away from you, taking your hand guiding you in front of him and up the stairs.

PART II

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fic #steve harrington #stranger things

927 notes · View notes

messrmoonyy · 1 year

Note

I saw this on your Tess NSFW headcanons and I want to scream!!

Dare I say… gun kink. Knife kink. HEAR ME OUT

YES YES YES !! PLEASE give us Tess x female reader - gun kink or knife kink. It would destroy me!!

Thinking about Tess fucking you at gun/knife point aaaagh!

Down the barrel

Tess Servopoulos x fem!reader

A/N- I have been waiting patiently for someone to give me the excuse to write this but look. Look. I just I have no words for this okay and I will be retreating into a dark hole in the ground and just peeking my head out to see how people react to this cause. Fuck me. It’s filthy in every sense of the word and I don’t really know what to say here. But anon you asked for 13/10 feral so. That’s what you get. I edited this a fair bit, chopping shit out cause I was like ‘this is too much they’ll send me to therapy ‘ but yk. Here we are. Goodnight.

Warnings: 18+ || god this is gonna be a long warnings list: tess. I think this could dip into being dark!tess if you squint, smut: gunplay ( no one is hurt ), degradation , praise cause come on now. It’s me. You should know by now my degradation and praise kinks go hand in hand when it comes to tess , thigh riding, reader talks/thinks about dying/death but is not actually harmed, and Tess makes some threats but of course she doesn’t actually do it, and. Look. The gun goes places a gun shouldn’t go. And I have no other explanation to give you, Tess and her Dacryphilia are out in full force, mentions of death and violence, reader is desensitised to violence and is low-key unhinged lmao,

Word count: 4.1k

Masterlist

Reblogs and comments are always greatly appreciated <3

Sometimes you liked to think about what life was like before the world fell apart. How different you were now compared to then. How desensitised. Pre apocalypse you hadn’t know death, or struggles or violence. You hadn’t actually ever laid eyes on a gun in person before, which was saying something for fucking America.

So it was sometimes a little odd to think about, even funny maybe, just how much had changed. How much you had changed. Of course the world had, it had fallen to shit. If you had told pre outbreak you what your life would soon become you’d have laughed. Joked that it was clearly something from science fiction. But no. It was real. The world had changed. And so had you.

Even just in that one singular day you had seen more death than you had in all the time pre outbreak combined. And it scared you sometimes, how little it now bothered you. How easy it was for you to take another life if it meant saving hers. Or upholding honour. But she was just as bad. Maybe worse. She never thought twice about taking the life of another if that person had hurt you, had touched you, had even looked at you wrong. She didn’t care. It was easy.

And you loved it. Craved it. Some deep visceral, primitive feeling that lived in your chest and begged for her to never stop. To stay possessive, to be so completely and utterly devoted that she would kill in the most violent of ways to keep you. And she did. She always had. And she knew that you would always return the favour.

You never wanted it to stop. Never wanted that desperate, obsessive streak you both had for each other to leave. You needed her constantly. Needed her completely. You wanted her with you all the time, embedded in your skin like shrapnel. Swimming in your bloodstream like whiskey.

You watched her intently as she sat opposite you, kitchen table littered with rounds and bullets and a box of stolen firearms that were hers. That had been miss sold and she had been determined to get back. And of course, she had. With your help.

She was cleaning the gun in her hand, an alcohol soaked rag wiping away any traces of blood that remained. Blood of the man that had crossed her, that had sold on the goods that were meant for her. Of the man that had dived on you in some hopes she wouldn’t dare touch him if he had you at his mercy, wouldn’t risk it. Wouldn’t shoot him when he could so easily push you in front of the bullet.

But he underestimated her. And he underestimated you. As so many poor, unfortunate souls did.

Pre outbreak you couldn’t imagine what it was like to stab someone, but present you had done it with ease. No care. No tears. You had stabbed. She had shot. Again and again and again. Because how dare he even think about laying a hand on you.

His blood had stained your shirt, soaked through to the tank you still sat in now. Specks of it littered Tess’ face, adorned her skin like freckles.

And it made something twist deep in your belly, made your chest heave with shaking breaths as you watched her. That burning, desperate ache that came when she showed just how much she cared. Just how far she would go to keep you safe.

It fascinated you to a degree. At how disgusted your past self would be to know that someone killing for you was making you so wet. Arousal swirling in your veins as you watched her there, her perfect hands cleaning away spots of blood like it was something completely normal.

You shifted slightly in your chair, attempting to ignore the ever growing ache between your thighs. You’d murdered someone together less than an hour ago and yet there you were, turned on by the way she’d handled it. How she handled the gun across from you.

She seemed to feel you watching her, her eyes flickering up to look at you across the table. You didn’t need a mirror to know what you looked like. You’d seen it enough when she forced you to watch yourself in the bathroom mirror as she railed you from behind. Knew your pupils were blown, your cheeks flushed red, chest heaving with shaking breaths. It wouldn’t take her long to figure exactly where your head was at. She could read you like a book. She knew what made you tick.

She could tear you apart and put you back together again, could push you to your limits and know exactly when to stop. She was just as fucked up as you were. It’s what made you such the perfect pair.

She looked away again, giving one final swipe of the rag to her gun before speaking.

“ c’mere “ she didn’t look up as she said it, eyes looking for any spot she may have missed in her cleaning. Turning it from side to side to examine it. You were on your feet in an instant, always obedient to her every command no matter what it was, rounding the table to stand beside her.

She still didn’t look up right away, sighing a little when she deemed the metal clean enough again. She shifted in her chair slightly, leaning back and patting her leg. You didn’t need to be told twice.

Her eyes trailed up from where your legs straddled her thighs, up to your face in a slow ascent. She held your gaze and reached forward, slipping her hand past the waistband of your leggings and cupping your damp underwear for a second. She scoffed and shook her head, withdrawing her hand as quickly as she’d put it there

“ fuckin knew it could see it in your eyes“ you squirmed in her lap and she folded her arms over her chest, eyebrow raised as she looked at you “ how long have you been wet? “ you didn’t answer her, fiddling with a loose thread on the hem of her shirt “ I asked you a question “ she sat up and you gasped as she pressed the cold metal of the muzzle of her gun to your forehead “ don’t be a fuckin brat. Answer. The question “

You had to force yourself not to move, your cunt aching with a desperate need to be filled as she held the weapon to your head. You should be terrified. Scared for your life that she could take in a second. But you weren’t. You were as far as you could possibly be from it.

You were soaking your underwear, thinking every disgusting, vile thought of what you wanted her to do to you with that gun to your head. And you had no shame.

And besides, if you were going to die… what a good fuckin way to go.

“ a while “ you finally answered, making her shake her head again and bring her face close to yours

“ you’re fuckin sick, you know that? “

“ yes “ you breathed out, arching into her in some silent request for her to touch you. Anything more than the fleeting touch to your damp underwear moments ago.

She moved the gun down, nudging the cool metal of the muzzle under your chin. And you smiled. You fucking smiled. A giggle bubbling past your lips in a way that probably made you look a little manic, but she didn’t care. You didn’t care. She looked like she wanted to tear you apart and devour every single morsel of you. And you knew she would, knew you’d set her off and she was going to break you down, not stopping until you were a useless wreck of a woman.

And you wanted it no other way. No. Needed it.

You might be sick but so was she. You knew she was just as turned on as you were. She loved power, especially power over you. She was getting off on holding you at gunpoint as much as you were.

“ you. Are a little. Fuckin psycho “ she said quietly, a small laugh leaving her own throat as she pressed up under your chin harder.

“ says the woman with a gun on me?“ you were pushing, egging her to snap. That deep craving in your chest so strong it was taking your breath away. You needed her. Desperately “ maybe you’re the psycho here. You ever think about that? “

“ fuckin attitude on you “ she said with a scoff, dropping the gun and gripping your chin in between her fingers now. There was a smirk planted on your face as your heart hammered in your chest, curious as to what she would do next “ are you that stupid that you’ll act like a brat when I could blow your fuckin brains out any second? “

The smirk was still planted on your face and you shrugged, pushing her again. Pressing her buttons. Urging her to test you. Testing her.

“ sounds like a good way to go “

Her eyes moved across your face, reading you, before giving a small nod. Seeing the look in your eyes, noting the way you silently told her to ruin you. To do what she pleased with you.

“ open your mouth “ you did as you were told in an instant, letting out a breathy laugh as she pressed the gun against your tongue. Your lips wrapped around the barrel without further prompting, fingers wrapping around her wrist. She was watching you intently, a mild sense of awe on her face and a smug smile tugging at her mouth “ well look at fuckin you “

You were determined to put on a show, the fact that your brain was already starting to retreat making it all the more easier. When she got you in that state of pure and utter submission to her every will and command, there’s nothing you wouldn’t do.

You moved your head, sucking the barrel as if it were the strap currently hidden in a box under your bed. Your tongue tingled with the mix of metal and the alcohol she’d used to clean it. It wasn’t exactly pleasant but it still made you drool, still made your cunt ache just with the realisation of how truly pathetic you were.

“ that’s my girl “ Tess brought her spare hand to the back of your head, taking control of the way you moved “ that’s my good little slut “ you choked on a moan, fingers tightening their grip on her wrist as she pushed your head further. Your lips pressing against the trigger guard, muzzle brushing the back of your throat in a way that made your eyes water.

And you almost hated the way your hips moved without you meaning to, grinding down on her thigh in some hope it would do something to elevate the throbbing in your clit.

Tess sighed, still guiding your head so your lips dragged across the barrel, and shook her head slightly.

“ you’re unbelievable “ she whispered, a mock sense of disappointment in her words “ I killed someone for you earlier. With this exact fucking gun “ you knew. You were fully fucking aware of what she’d used it for. You’d watched her do it. Had felt that fluttering feeling in your chest as she had “ but you liked that. Didn’t you? Hmm? You get off on it “ you hummed an answer, choking again as she pressed against the back of your throat again and held you there.

Your hips were still rolling against her and you were mildly surprised she hadn’t stopped you yet. But the simple fact that you were getting off to her seemed to be riling her up too much to completely care. Drool was running down your chin, your fingers were still gripping tightly to her wrist, your jaw ached. You must have looked a sight.

“ that’s it, take it for me. That’s a good little slut “ the roughness of her jeans combined with the friction your own clothes provided was bliss. You were like an animal in heat, grinding against her in an increasingly desperate fashion “ you. Are so fucked up baby girl “ you couldn’t deny it and you made no attempt to, in fact you smiled as she withdrew the gun from your mouth “ haven’t even touched you and look at you “ you looked down at where you were grinding your soaked cunt against her leg, the evident damp spot on her jeans “ naughty little girl that likes to play with guns “ she hummed seemingly more to herself as she watched you, tracing the muzzle across your jaw.

“ mhm “ you grabbed at her wrist again, bringing the gun back to your mouth a pressing a kiss to the barrel with a giggle. She narrowed her eyes as she watched you, a small breathy laugh leaving her. You dragged your tongue up the length of the barrel, eyes locked on hers.

You laughed again as she moved to press the gun to your temple, eyes fluttering closed as you gripped the table behind you and honed in on the way your clit throbbed as you moved against her strong thigh.

“ that’s my good little slut “ she wrapped an arm around your waist pulling you closer to her, her gun pressing harder against your temple in a way you were certain would bruise. Her lips brushed against the shell of your ear and it sent a shiver down your spine “ you gonna come with my gun against your pretty little head? “ you nodded feverishly, arms looping around her neck as you increased your pace.

“ yes. Fuck yes “ she tutted lightly, pressing a trail of soft kisses against your neck.

“ I could pull this trigger any second and you’re about to fucking come? That’s fucked up baby “ you whined as she said it, some kind of disgust at yourself at how your cunt clenched around nothing at her words “ don’t worry baby I’d never. It’d be such a waste of such a pretty girl. Pretty girl. With a pretty cunt. Pretty tits. Such a waste, don’t you think? “

She lifted her head from your neck, gripping your jaw as your chased your orgasm. The never ending string of whines and moans that had been leaving your throat increased in pitch, your hips stuttering as you got closer and closer

“ my pretty girl “ she cooed, pushing your head lightly with her gun as if to remind you it was still there. As if you could possibly forget. As if it wasn’t the sole reason you’d been wet in the first place “ my pretty, fucked up girl. Show me just how pretty you look when you come with my gun to your fuckin head “ two more rolls of your hips was all it took, your fingers twisting into the collar of her shirt as your orgasm wracked your body “ there you go, good fuckin girl “

It was like something out of a fucked up sex tape. The pathetic sounds that you made filling the apartment.

She didn’t drop the gun even when you levelled out your breathing again, body twitching slightly through the aftershocks as she flexed her thigh muscles beneath you. She traced it across your jaw, down your neck, trailing it down your chest and tugging your tank top with it until it snapped back up into place, brushing it over your sensitive nipples as they poked through the thin material.

She always looked at you the same way. Like you were something special. Something to be worshipped and appreciated. Which was funny in a way when she was the one that acted like a god, that had you down on your knees begging for her guidance and care.

Tess begged for no one. And nothing. She took what she wanted and exactly when she wanted.

“ stand up. Not done with you yet pretty girl “ you couldn’t imagine what else she possibly had in store for you as you stood, letting her grab at your hips and pick you up. She shoved some things out of the way and sat you on the edge of the table, placing the gun down for a second to wriggle you out of your leggings and underwear in one go. She picked up the gun again, tapping it against your knee “ legs apart, that’s it good girl”

She nudged her fingers under your chin, holding your face in place as she leant forward to kiss you. You sighed dreamily into her mouth, hands pulling at her shirt lightly. She was gentle, careful, as she nipped at your bottom lip, tugging it lightly between her teeth.

You shivered as you felt the metal press against your skin again, pulling away to smile as she nudged it back against your temple.

“ shall we see just how fucked up this pretty little head is? “ she said, her voice low and lips brushing yours as she spoke. You nodded. Not even entirely sure what she was suggesting, but you’d trust her with your life. Literally. She had your life resting in her hands. All it would take was one movement of her finger, one trigger pull and you’d be gone. Just a mess of red on the walls.

She kissed you again, pressing her mouth to yours harder than before. The kind that would leave your lips swollen and red when she was done with you.

She moved the gun down again, trailing over your chest, prodding at the soft flesh of your belly. Your breath hitched as you realised what she was doing. You pulled back and looked down at where she was trailing the gun up and down your inner thigh.

“ fuck “ you breathed as she trailed the muzzle over your sticky lips before nudging it between the slick folds of your cunt, brushing against your sensitive clit in a way that made you shiver “ Tess “

“ what if we just… “ your breath hitched again as she pressed the gun against your clenching hole, tilting her head to the side like some kind of cat. Curious of her own actions. You gripped her shirt in your fists, eyes locked on the firearm in her hands as she pushed it further.

“ holy fuckin shit “ you breathed out, unable to tear your eyes away. It wasn’t exactly comfortable but you couldn’t stop the way your walls clenched around the cool metal of the barrel, a desperate sob of a moan escaping your throat. It was almost too overwhelming. Too much but also not enough. She wasn’t even moving but the sensation and simply the realisation of what she was doing to you was enough to make you want to come on the spot.

“ my dirty fuckin girl huh? You like that?” You nodded instantly, a desperate primal desire scorching through your veins.

“ move- move it please. Fuck I- Tess “ Tess smiled and pressed her mouth close to your ear as she started moving the gun, dragging the heavy metal against your slick and sensitive walls.

“ how does it make you feel knowing I’ll be walking around with this gun after it’s been inside of you huh? What do you think people would say? If they knew what a dirty fuckin slut you were? “

You couldn’t think straight, brain scattered as you tried to focus but failed. Her hot breath against your skin, her fingers pressing and caressing the back of your neck, the heavy drag of the gun inside of you. You could feel your arousal dripping onto the table beneath you, couldn’t stop the noises leaving your throat no matter how hard you tried.

Tears were streaming across your cheeks and she smiled, she’d always loved when you broke and cried.

“ so pretty when you cry “ she said, her voice low and grip on the back of your neck tightening so you wouldn’t look away from her.

Your nails were scratching at her now, trying to keep her close and beg for something your brain couldn’t put into words. You felt despicable, twisted and unhinged.

She had a gun buried in your fucking cunt.

A gun that she had used to blow a guys head open a couple hours ago.

And now was inside of you. Stretching your dripping hole in a way you weren’t used to, the original burn now twisting into some deeply delicious ache instead.

It was too much.

She’d barely been inside of you for a few minutes and you were already coming again, sobbing and shaking as your nails dug into the flesh of her arms. Your walls clenched almost painfully around the intrusion in your cunt, holding the offensive thing in place as you practically screamed through your release.

She held onto as your whole body shook, riding you through your world shattering orgasm until you were well and truly wrecked. Tears streamed across your face, you muscles burning from how tense you had been as your climax peaked.

“ that’s my girl, that’s it. Steady baby steady “

If she hadn’t been holding you, you’d have fallen. Your legs were shaking as you collapsed against her chest, hands gripping at her shoulders to keep yourself up right. You winced as she careful withdrew her gun, leaning over and tossing the gun onto the table, a gentle hand on your back as she did.

“ alright baby, nice and easy “ her voice was tender, quiet, as if she were scared to startle you. You gave a small nod, still gripping at her as if she were going to evaporate beneath your fingers any second. She soothed a hand up and down your spine, holding you as your shakes began to slow and you tried to regain a normal rhythm to your breathing “ Let me clean you up Yeah? “

She helped you down from the table and lead you through into the bathroom.

“ I’m so tired “ you said with a small sigh, leaning against the sink. You felt like every ounce of energy had been drained from your system, muscles aching from unknowingly tensing them as she worked you up.

“ I know. I know baby. We’ll take a shower then go to bed, okay? “ You’d both gotten accustomed to showering together, simply because you were all on rations for water. The water never reached any temperature higher than bordering on lukewarm, and the water would automatically shut off after 5 minutes anyway. So it worked easier to just share. But you were quite thankful for her being there with you in that moment.

She stripped you of your remaining clothes so gently it were as if you were made of China, her voice soft as she whispered a never ending string of praise as she did.

It was strange to think only a couple hours ago that same woman had shot a man in the head.

“ you hurt? “

“ no “ you whispered, voice croaky and hoarse “ aches but I’m fine “

She brushed the backs of her fingers against your cheek and along your jaw, smiling softly when you leaned into her touch.

“ you did so good “ she said, her voice as soft as her touch “ so fuckin good baby. Proud of you “ you twisted your head to press a kiss to her wrist, a silent thank you “ didn’t think you take it that well. But you’re always so good for me aren’t you? “

When you stepped into the shower she reached behind you and turned the tap on, not wasting the precious time with the water and gently guiding you under the mostly cold stream.

She worked quickly but kept her touch soft as she helped you wash the sweat and the blood and the sticky mess that was spread across your thighs, making quick work of herself too before the water shut itself off.

The journey between leaving the shower and getting into bed didn’t register in your mind fully, too tired to really process anything anymore. Brief flashes of wrapping you in a towel, pulling one of her shirts over your head, climbing into bed beside you.

You let yourself melt into her embrace as she held you against her chest, her hand running through your wet hair to free it of knots.

No matter how rough and brutal she could be, she could always switch to that caring side in a flash. A few hours ago she’d killed someone. A few minutes ago she’d threatened you with a gun to get you off. And now she was cradling you like you were the most precious person alive. Because to her you were.

“ sure you’re okay? “ she asked after a few moments as you were drifting into sleep.

“ I’m good. Promise “ you lifted your head from her chest and cupped her face gently “ I’m. So fuckin good “

The ache in your chest felt satiated for now, though you knew it wouldn’t be too long before it reared its head again. And she would be there to assist you with it. Because yes, perhaps you were as fucked up as she’d said you were. But she was just as bad. And that was how it would always be.

#well #here you are #tess servopoulos x reader #tess servopoulos #the last of us fanfic #the last of us #tlou #tess tlou #tlou hbo #x reader #x you #lesbian #Anna torv #other characters for exposure:#Ellie Williams #Joel miller #smut

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