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nhl-stories · 1 year ago

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Rue – Clayton Keller

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

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

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

Word Count: 9.2k

Album Series Masterlist

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

“What if you married Clayton?”

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

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

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

Ines flops face down on couch cushion and screams.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We don’t do it that often.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh.”

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

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

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

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

⁄⁄⁄

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

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

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

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

She looks up and chokes on her sandwich.

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

“What the hell are you doing?”

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

“And ruin your life.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“This isn’t fair to you.”

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

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

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

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

“Christ, you really thought this through?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

⁄⁄⁄

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kat stops her on the steps of the courthouse,

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

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

“You know it’s not–“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

⁄⁄⁄

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

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

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

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

“Where’s your ring?”

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

Clayton nods.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Showtime,” Ines plasters on a big smile.

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

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

“Yeah, I’m glad we did.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You didn’t have to do that.”

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

Ines nods.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Bienvenido a nuestro familia.”

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

“Está muy emocionado, papi.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Her heart aches with the truth.

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

Her door creaks open and Clayton creeps into the room.

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

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

“And you’re in here why?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

⁄⁄⁄

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How did it happen?”

Ines wants to melt into the couch.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You, okay?”

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

“You had fun then?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Notice to Appear.

December 11th.

Suddenly the walls feel like they’re closing in.

⁄⁄⁄

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

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

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

“And you have your immigration hearing in December.”

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

“I’ll be in Buffalo that day, but I–“

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

“It’s not–“

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

“Okay,” he nearly whispers.

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

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

“And you’re doing, okay?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

⁄⁄⁄

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Clayton rolls away, hands up in surrender.

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

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

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

Clayton’s alarm goes off and Ines groans.

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

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

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

“Oh yeah?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ines feels the anxiety seep out of her bones.

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

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

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

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

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

Kat jumps on Ines the moment she sees her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

⁄⁄⁄

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

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

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

“You could come golfing.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

He stands up again, “have fun cooking.”

“I hope you lose!” Ines calls back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kelley takes a long sip of her coffee and hums.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Was it rough morning alone with my mom?”

“No, it was really nice, actually.”

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

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

“Wow, you did that for me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

⁄⁄⁄

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ines scoffs.

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

“I was tired of holding him back.”

Ines gulps down the cold remnants of her drink.

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

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

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

Kat puts a gentle hand on her knee.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

⁄⁄⁄

Ines gets two days to stew before Clayton comes home.

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

“You bought the ring in March?”

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

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

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

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

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

Ines laughs in spite herself.

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

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

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

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

“Ask me again.”

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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thefrogdalorian · 1 year ago

Text

The Best of Both Worlds - Chapter Three

Din Djarin x Female Reader Modern!AU

❁ Series Masterlist ❁ My Masterlist ❁ Read on AO3 ❁

Word Count: 8323 Rating: General Summary: Your internet bestie arrives in preparation for the Star Wars convention you will attend together. Everything is set for the greatest weekend of your life! Until you arrive at the con and find yourself overwhelmed by all the crowds and noise. At least you have numerous incredibly realistic Mando cosplays to distract you from how stressed you feel, and there's one in particular which is uncannily accurate... Content Warnings: Reader struggles to eat due to nerves and feels anxious due to crowds. Also, not sure if it's really a warning, but there's some allusions to fandom discourse in this one, particularly how men in the SW fandom can behave towards women. So warning for fandom wank, I guess, but reader goes off on them ;) Author's Note: A very long update, wow. Honestly, this chapter was semi-autobiographical lmao. It was my exact response to how busy SWC was last year, even down to hiding under the stairs! Except I did not have a cool internet bestie (just my uncool irl bestie), nor did I stand up and speak in a panel like reader does. I did however see many amazing cosplays and the picture of the Din cosplayer is one I took there! :) Hope you like this one. Not sure for how long me updating every two days will last, but my mind is fully focused on this story for the moment, so who knows! Thank you once again to the wonderful @suresnips for being my beta! Couldn't do it without you ♡

3. This Is Why (I Don't Leave The House) [Reader's POV]

You could scarcely believe that the person you had spent so many hours of your life gushing over The Mandalorian with online, was really here with you in your little flat. Ria had arrived a few hours ago and you two had instantly gotten along famously. Somehow, it was as though you had always known her, even though this was the first time you were actually meeting in person.

You had left your flat earlier in the evening with a mix of trepidation in the pit of your stomach and overwhelming excitement crackling like electricity as it coursed through your veins. The prospect of finally meeting someone who meant so much to you was both daunting and exhilarating. There were so many things that could go wrong, since you had never spent any time together in person and were unsure of your dynamic in that sense. There was pressure, too, particularly bearing the distance Ria had travelled from the U.S. in mind, plus the money you had both spent on ForceCon tickets.

It was a big deal for you to invite someone over to your flat to stay with you like this. From morning until evening, the two of you would be in each other’s presence constantly. At least it was only for five nights… Ria was leaving first thing Tuesday morning as you had to get straight back to work. You quieted your nerves with the thought of how brief her visit would be, until a notification lit up your phone and made your stomach drop:

[thisistheslay]: 18:36: I’M HEREEEEEE!!!!

Ria must be here at the station. You searched around frantically for her, trying to spot her amongst all the commuters that were barreling through the station. You realised, then, that you had no idea how tall she was compared to your own height. That was something you had never needed to know online. Finally, you spotted the brown hair and thick black glasses that you instantly recognised as your internet best friend’s, making her way towards the barrier and the incredible weekend of nerdy fun that lay before the two of you.

After approximately five seconds of being in each other’s presence, you knew that all your fears were unfounded.

As Ria had fumbled with her phone to make the contactless payment and make her way through the gates, the way her face had lit up at the sight of you instantly allayed your anxiety. The bone-crushing hug she had pulled you into had helped too, it was hard to believe she was actually here with you. This hug was for all of the hard days you had endured, separated by many miles when the two of you had just wished you could wrap the other in your arms and be there for them.

It struck you how poised Ria was in real life, too. At the end of the day, the two of you shared a pretty nerdy hobby, it would have been understandable if she was quiet and a little nerdy. But here your internet best friend was, pushing her way through the busy rush hour crowds and throwing the death glares of the commuters, mainly old men in suits, who had glared at the two of you for daring to embrace in the middle of the station hall and block their way from making it to the next tube.

It always baffled you to witness how eager people were to push and shove their way through others for the sake of arriving at their destination just two or three minutes earlier. Somewhere along the way, it felt as though a basic human kindness had been lost in how Londoners seemed to interact with each other when it came to public transport.

But that was a gripe for another time. Your best friend was here, you would not let anyone ruin that. As you emerged from the station and onto the street, you found at a loss for what to say, other than asking about her flight. Luckily, Ria filled the gap in conversation by incessantly babbling about her travels here and the shady characters she had encountered during her two layovers, as she chatted all the way back to your flat. All the guilt you had felt at having her make her own way here – you had wanted to meet her at the airport but work had prevented you from getting away on time – vanished as you saw how much confidence she possessed. Her bubbliness was almost overwhelming, you could scarcely get a word in edgeways. But secretly you were glad of it; ordinarily you found that you were a little awkward in the presence of people you had just met as you adjusted to their presence and their energy. Ria more than compensated for your social shortcomings and fortunately, your dynamic appeared as though it would translate from online into the real world.

Ria burst into your flat after you had met her at the station, full of enthusiasm, lighting every corner of your abode with the warmth and humour that had always been present online. It was incredible how much energy she had actually, considering the fact she had just endured a transatlantic flight. You marvelled at her energy levels, considering you felt exhausted after merely going to the shops. It was so amazing to have her here with you, though.

You had laughed before meeting her about how bizarre it was that internet friends always seemed to know the most intimate details about your life, in a way that you never felt comfortable sharing with real life friends… but you had never seen each other’s legs! Yet, now Ria was here, legs and all.

The two of you were inflating the air mattress for Ria to sleep on, keen to get an early night after so much travelling and how early the two of you would need to be up to make your way to the Dockside Convention Centre for the Con the following morning. You positioned the air mattress underneath the TV, on which you had just spent hours watching your favourite episodes of the show that had brought the two of you together. Of course, you had only intended to watch one episode. But with Mando, there was no such thing as only one episode. Once you started, you just couldn’t stop and you had ended up watching most of the second season. Both you and Ria agreed that the second half of it was incredible, but it was a bit of a slow start. Overall the pair of you preferred the first season, which was a pretty popular consensus amongst fans.

Ria had no qualms about her sleeping arrangements. London was an extortionate city at the best of times, but accommodation when ForceCon was in town – especially close to the convention centre – had meant that your offer to allow Ria to stay in your flat was the only way she had been able to afford to come. It was a debt to you that Ria was grateful for. You didn’t see it as any kind of debt though, you knew she would do the same for you.

Plus, there was no way you could not offer to help her. If something as ridiculous as actually encountering Mando happened, she would never be able to forgive you if she was not by your side.

Ria had always been your closest friend since you had first met her online and you were so relieved that there had been no hint of awkwardness between the two of you. Ria had made herself right at home, and you had struggled to believe as the chatter and laughter continued that this was genuinely the first time the two of you had ever met in person.

You watched in awe as Ria moved around your flat, her brown hair which she usually wore in a bob, now tied up ready to sleep. The glasses with thick-black frames were still on her face, a sure sign she would be scrolling on her phone, probably replying to people on her wildly popular blog, before she finally got some sleep.

Now that she had changed into the tank top and shorts that she would sleep in, you could see more of the extensive tattoo collection she possessed, including a few Mandalorian tattoos. There was an outline of Mando’s helmet that was so well-done, it made you want to rush out to the nearest tattoo shop and get one for yourself. You knew there would be tattoo artists at the Con too, but you also knew you would inevitably chicken out.

With her confident nature and collection of tattoos, you were both in awe of, and utterly intimidated by your best friend. You thought, as you watched her climb onto the air mattress with a giggle, as it tossed her around, that Ria seemed so much older than you even though she was actually eighteen months younger! But that was the bizarre thing about being in your mid twenties, people either seemed to be fully formed adults or still more like teenagers. There was rarely any inbetween.

You shouldn’t have been surprised that the two of you had gotten along so well. After all, you and Ria shared a similar sense of humour, had a similar taste in music (that wasn’t the Mandalorian soundtrack) and a love of books that had allowed your friendship to blossom into something more than purely an entirely Mando-centric friendship that you felt like you shared with some of your other online friends. It wasn’t as though the friendships were shallow or that you didn’t get on with them or anything, but you had just not spoken more deeply about other parts of your lives in the same way as you had to Ria.

“How’s the air mattress?” You asked with a smirk as you watched Ria toss and turn as the unpredictable surface tossed her around.

“It’s fine! Just a bit lively but honestly now I’m lay down, it’s super comfortable. I’ll be asleep in no time,” Ria smiled.

“Good,” You nodded. “Still can’t believe you’re really here. I thought about this moment for months but now it’s actually here, it’s surreal,”

“I can’t believe I’m here either. In this flat, which I’ve seen so many times on FaceTime. It feels so weird in the best way!” Ria laughed. “We’re going to have the best time this weekend.”

“We are. It’ll be incredible,” You breathed, trying to contain your excitement so that you would actually be able to get some sleep. The thought of being surrounded by so many fellow Star Wars nerds was electrifying.

“And don’t forget that panel tomorrow, when we finally meet Mando!” Ria exclaimed. “I’m sure he’s going to fall in love with me at first sight.”

“In your dreams, Ria,” You rolled your eyes playfully. “Goodnight, see you bright and early in the morning.”

“Goodnight bestie, I need to get my beauty sleep for Mando,” Ria added with a wink.

You shook your head with a grin on your face as you made your way into your bedroom, still utterly bemused by Ria’s utter conviction that the two of you were somehow going to encounter the man who was sworn to complete secrecy. You kind of admired Ria’s utterly unshakable confidence in the matter, even if it was a little delusional. At the end of the day, though, you knew it was all lighthearted. She wasn’t the type of person to try to hack into CCTV cameras or bribe the doctors and nurses at the hospital where a suspiciously-realistic cosplayer had surprised sick children. Ria loved The Mandalorian a great deal, but she also had other hobbies and interests.

As you tried your best to convince your body that it really needed to sleep before the Con tomorrow, you were struck by how surreal this all felt. Tomorrow, you would travel to what would become, for the next few days, the nerd centre of the world. It was an event that you had dreamt of going to for years, where all of the latest Star Wars projects were announced. Yet, you had never imagined it would be possible to attend, due to how expensive a trip abroad would be. Luckily though, ForceCon travelled around regularly and the stars had aligned to make this possible for you. When it had been announced that the next one would be held in London, you knew you had to do whatever it took to be there.

After almost an entire year of anticipation, you knew that in just a few short hours you would be there, at the event where everyone who was anyone in the Star Wars world and the people who admired them were to be found.

There was just one exception, though. Mando would never get to see how much the fans appreciated him. Keeping his identity a secret meant that he would never be able to feel the amount of love that fans held for him. Your heart constricted as you thought about it. Even though you had tried in vain to convince yourself that you didn’t really care that much about not knowing who he was, you thought it sad that the man, who was so beloved by people young and old, might never know how truly appreciated he was. You just hoped that one day, on his own terms, he would allow himself to feel some of it.

It was a thought that lulled you off into sleep, underneath the large poster of Season One that hung above your single bed.

The familiar sound of the opening theme to The Mandalorian jolted you awake. With its rhythmic drum beat and melodic bass recorder, it was really the perfect alarm. What wasn’t so perfect, however, was the ungodly hour at which it had interrupted the peaceful slumber you were enjoying. You fumbled around, bleary-eyed in the early-morning light as your hand felt around the nightstand to turn it off, frustrated at being awoken. Until you remembered precisely why you were awake at five in the morning.

For a second you lay there and closed your eyes, attempting to compose yourself and stop the fluttering in your stomach as the realisation dawned upon you: It was ForceCon day!

Finally, after months and months of anticipation, you would finally get to have one of the best weekends of your life. The big day was finally here and you and Ria did not want to miss a single second of time there, hence the early start. The venue for the Con, the Dockside Convention Centre, was a considerable distance from the outskirts of the city where you lived in your rented flat, which somehow fell within your budget despite how close it was to the tube station.

The journey to the convention centre was even further than your daily commute to the museum where you worked. The thought of a journey that would take upwards of an hour to start your day, before you had even contended with the crowds at the convention, was slightly distressing to you. But you knew that with Ria by your side, there was no doubt that you would be able to get through it.

Getting up at five meant that you had ample time to get ready for the event. Your outfit was comfortable and practical but still showed your nerdy side. It had been somewhat of a project for you in the run up to the convention, with a denim jacket that you had walked past in a shop window and fell in love with, decorated with various iron-on patches that were a nod to your favourite characters. You coupled it with a comfortable pair of black jeans that weren’t too tight – a must when doing as much walking as you were about to do this weekend – and your trusty favourite pair of shoes.

You wandered into the main room of your flat, quietly watching as Ria sat on the small couch and expertly applied the finishing touches to her make-up. Suddenly, she snapped the handheld mirror shut and turned to face you.

“Are you ready for the greatest weekend of our lives?!” Ria asked enthusiastically.

“Yes… but no… but yes!” You exclaimed, still unsure how to process the rush of emotions that you were feeling about the day ahead.

“Let me just fill my water bottle up and then I’m ready,” Ria said as she jumped up from the couch and grabbed the titanium bottle that was covered with various Star Wars characters.You chuckled at that. Despite how effortlessly cool your friend seemed to most people, even you, it was reassuring to know that at heart, Ria was still a nerd.

After one last check that you both had your passes for the event, you grabbed the backpacks you had carefully packed the previous evening, between episodes of The Mandalorian, and headed out, to where a weekend of nerd heaven awaited.

Waking up so early had meant that the two of you could take your time getting ready and then head out to the convention before the main rush hour began on the tube. Much as you loved your sleep and wanted to feel well-rested, being able to avoid the worst of the crowds was a deeply appealing prospect. Plus, you would have a chance to stop for breakfast closer to the convention hall and eat food that wasn’t horrendously overpriced.

But as you sat there, staring at the sandwich you had ordered and barely taken a few bites of, you seemed to have a mental block when it came to actually finishing the thing. You wanted to, you knew you needed to get some food in your body to give yourself the fuel for contending with the crowds at the convention. Try as you might, though, your mind was not onboard.

“Too nervous?” Ria asked with a knowing smirk as she munched on some fruit.

“I guess,” You shrugged, feeling as though your stomach had tied itself into knots and was attempting to strangle itself.

“You can always bring it with you. We’ll probably have to get in line and wait around for a while before we go inside. Perhaps you’ll feel like eating then,” Ria suggested.

“Yeah, good idea,” You smiled, suddenly feeling immensely relieved that you had someone else here with you. “I don’t know how I’d do this without you, Ria. Thank you.”

The two of you left the cafe with your takeout coffee cups and finally headed towards the convention centre. As you made your way towards the crowds of people, your stomach dropped as you noticed just how busy things were going to be. For the first few hundred feet, things weren’t too bad as you were sent down what appeared to be a wide, service road, built into the side of the convention centre with the masses of people who were all heading in the same direction as you.

You stuck to the side of the walkway, where you could see the roads and city below, and feel the fresh air on your face over the barrier that bordered one side of the walkway. As long as you could still see daylight and the crowds were moving, you were fine. Slightly stressed, but you could cope.

However, the sight that greeted you at the end of the walkway was like something from your worst nightmares. It was your first glimpse inside the packed convention hall, where you had been so certain that you would have the greatest weekend of your life. But if it involved walking into something as stressful as the sight before you, you were not so sure that it would be the incredible experience you had built it up to be in your head.

As far as you could see, in the biggest room you had ever stepped foot in, there was an endless sea of people. The space was enormous and industrial, with a black floor and white sliding doors at the far left end that opened sporadically to let attendees into the main hall. You felt sick as you looked at it, you couldn’t survive more than a few minutes in that space, especially without knowing how long you would be there for. But no one you encountered appeared to have any idea as to how long you would be in this space. You were just glad that you had arrived a little before the doors to the con opened.

You had expected that, given that ForceCon was officially endorsed by Lucasfilm, it would at least be professionally organised. Instead, though, it seemed as though there were a small number of stressed out volunteers responsible for herding the attendees into a series of pens, with no security or leadership in sight. The poor workers looked incredibly stressed and overwhelmed by the influx of people.

“Ria, I don’t know if I can do this.” You mumbled when you noticed the crowd of people that you were being swept towards as the volunteers motioned for you to fill one of the pens. It seemed as though it would never end, as far as your eyes could see there were people. You felt panic rising in your chest, how were you ever going to get out of here?

“Just breathe, bestie. Breathe.” Ria said, placing her hand upon your back soothingly. “This won’t last forever, it’ll all be worth it. Think about the Mando cosplays! Look, there’s one over there!”

But it was no use. Not even the greatest Mandalorian cosplay in the galaxy would be able to comfort you now. Panic was rising in your chest, you felt overwhelmed by being stuck between two metal barriers in a pen full of people.

You tried your best to focus on her words as you took a seat on the cold, hard floor of the hall. The buzzing in your head was back, it grew louder and louder. You shut your eyes and stared at the floor, hands covering your ears as you willed time to go faster.

“Won’t be long now. I promise,” Ria said reassuringly.

How was she always so calm and composed when you felt as though the world was ending over a few people in a room together? It seemed almost unfair. But you knew that Ria would not want you to feel bad, she just wanted to make sure that you were going to be alright.

Mercifully, before too long, the con opened and you eventually began to move out of the enormous room. At that moment, you felt excitement bubbling up in the pit of your stomach as it dawned on you that you were about to enter Star Wars heaven. You glanced for the first time at the various incredible cosplays that surrounded you, in awe of the hours each person had dedicated to their craft.

Any relief you felt was short-lived, though. The main hallway was not much better. You couldn’t move, or stop to think. The crowd continued plodding down the hall towards a destination unknown. You were sure it was the busiest place you had ever been in your entire life.

“Just keep swimming, swimming,” You chanted to yourself under your breath as a way to soothe yourself.

You took deep breaths and concentrated on the rhythmic thudding of your feet as you stared up the ceiling and continued on your way. You instantly felt lighter, the beginnings of a smile traced across your features when you looked up and saw a giant poster of Mando hanging from the ceiling. If you could just make it to him, you would be most of the way down the corridor and then you would almost be at your destination: the main hall.

Focusing on the Mando poster helped and before you knew it, you were there, surrounded by a dizzying variety of stalls selling more Star Wars merch than you had ever seen gathered together in one place in your entire life. You thought you had a pretty impressive collection yourself – having a proper, adult salary had made it easier to give into your whims and purchase a variety of collectibles – but this was really something else.

You were like a kid in a candy shop, mouth open as you wandered from stall to stall, taking in the wares of the various vendors. You felt like Mando the first time he visited Tatooine. He had wandered around just like you were, amazed by the variety of produce on display. Unlike Mando, though, you were unable to get even remotely close to the stalls. There was a throng of people gathered at each one. You were not the least bit assertive in crowds, you had no desire to engage in a battle with your elbows through a gaggle of fellow nerds for some slightly-overpriced collectibles.

“Shall we find somewhere to sit and catch our breath before the panel?” Ria asked, sensing your discomfort. For someone that you had only met face-to-face the previous evening, she was more perceptive than some people who had known you for years.

You headed out of the main hall, desperate to find any relief from the overwhelming noises and sounds that the thousands of people crammed inside the Dockside Convention Centre were currently creating. The first place that you noticed was a staircase. You ducked under the metal bar that surrounded the bottom of it and flopped down unceremoniously on the floor, finally feeling your nerves begin to settle as there was a physical barrier between you and the rest of humanity for the time being. Things suddenly felt a lot quieter and more manageable as the buzzing in your head began to subside. Ria sat opposite you, her blue eyes looking into yours concernedly.

“Ria, I’m sorry I’m such a nervous wreck. It’s just… it’s so much busier than I was expecting.” You admitted.

“Girl, shut up. This place is crazy. Like, the craziest place I have ever been in my entire life. I suffer with this shit too.” Ria admitted. “I think I’m just running on, like, the adrenaline of thinking about Mando being at that panel.”

“Ria, he’s not going to be at the panel!” You laughed. “Please stop being delusional!”

“Sure, there he is right now!” Ria giggled breathlessly as she pointed towards the main hallway, which had emptied somewhat since you had fought your way through it just a few minutes ago.

You had fully intended to make another jibe about Ria being delusional, but when you turned your head, the sight caused all coherent thoughts to leave your brain. You were transfixed at the sight before you. It was as though you had suddenly been transported a long time ago to a galaxy far, far away. The most incredible cosplay you had ever laid eyes upon was heading straight towards you. The armour itself was immaculate, the details on it really looked as if they were forged out of Beskar by a Mandalorian armourer. Of course you knew that screen realistic cosplays existed, you had obviously seen the viral footage of a Mando cosplayer visiting a children’s hospital a few months ago. But it was more than the armour that made your entire world pause on its axis. It was the way this cosplayer carried himself: the self-assured, confident swagger that you would recognise anywhere. The way his hands were held at his side, somewhere between relaxed and tensed, ready to put his finger on the trigger at a moment’s notice. For one brief, fleeting second: you could have sworn that the real Mando was actually walking towards you.

“Wow… that’s…” You stuttered, failing to find words that could capture your feelings towards the sight before you.

“Um, excuse me! I’m the one who gets called delusional and obsessed with Mando, but look at you!” Ria said with a knowing smirk, clearly where words had failed… your face had betrayed you. “You’re getting flustered over a cosplay!”

You couldn’t even deny it. You were feeling more than a little flustered. It was the first time you had ever seen a Mandalorian in real life. Nothing could have prepared you for it, the presence that the man had, even from this distance. Watching the way he carried himself as he had swaggered down the main hallway had been intoxicating to behold. It was also the way with his T-visor, that you never knew exactly where his eyes were trained. They could be right on you or they could be looking right past you, you would never know. As far as you were concerned, he had picked you out from the crowd, his eyes focusing on you and only you as he walked down the hall. It was an electrifying thought, you felt little bolts of electricity all over your skin. You had half a mind to run up to him and beg him to bring you in warm or cold, he could decide, you really weren’t fussy.

“Hellooooooo, bestie!” Ria said sarcastically, waving her hand in front of your eye line, which was still trailed off into the distance where the cosplayer had disappeared into the crowd. “Anyone home?”

“Sorry.” You said, shyly. Now that the Mando cosplay had walked past, you had sadly realised that he was not making a bee-line for you to sweep you off your feet, you felt a little embarrassed. “I just couldn’t stop staring. That was an amazing cosplay.”

“It was. Or maybe… it was really him!” Ria said, throwing her arms like a conspiracy theorist gif that your groupchat had sent one too many times.

You both collapsed into full belly laughter at that. Ria was so devoted to the bit at this point that you just went along with it. You silently called a truce: you would stop calling her delusional, it was a fun joke that had distracted your anxious brain from the throngs of people that surrounded you, just beyond the metal railing of your refuge under the stairs. Despite the distraction, they had not magically disappeared.

“The Mando panel isn’t for a couple hours yet. Is there anything you want to do beforehand?” Ria asked, once the two of you had finally stopped laughing.

“Uh. I don’t know. We could go and have a look around, find where the stages are maybe and then have lunch?” You suggested, not feeling like working your way through the hordes of people by the stalls again.

So Ria and you did exactly that, getting your bearings and orienting yourself in the massive convention hall. There seemed to be so much to see and do, you were so grateful in that moment that you had splurged on four day passes. It would probably take you four days to walk around the entire thing! Your exploration of the centre meant that by the time the panel came around, you were grateful that you would be able to sit down, you were more than ready to rest your tired, achy legs.

As you made your way into the room where the panel would be held, you went out of your way to thank the staff on the door. You knew most of the people who worked here were volunteers and a lot of the panel goers were looking straight through them. Manners cost nothing though, a simple “thanks” and a smile and nod were enough to make someone feel valued when they perhaps felt as though they were doing a thankless task. You couldn’t understand why more people wouldn’t take just two seconds to say thank you.

Your heart was thundering as you took a seat in the hall. For a strange moment, you felt as though you were back in a lecture at University. Everyone sizing each other up, wondering where to sit – should they leave a gap or get close to others, maybe strike up a conversation? Personally, you wanted to place as much distance between yourself and others as humanly possible and the thought of speaking to strangers made you freeze up in terror. But Ria, ever the extrovert, was quite happy to strike up a conversation with the guys next to you.

They were fans of Mando, but you could tell pretty quickly that they were casuals. They did not have the deeper love for the show that you and Ria held. After a few minutes of sitting around, the people who were hosting the panel emerged, walking down the gap between the neatly-arranged chairs to take a seat on the long table that sat on a raised platform so everyone in the room was able to get a good view of them. The room was long but narrow and you and Ria were sitting around 10 rows back. As you glanced behind you, you realised that it had filled up rather quickly. You were glad that you had been here well ahead of the scheduled start time to ensure you got a good seat.

The guys running the panel began messing around with their laptops so they could get the powerpoint they had created on the screen. They were certainly not what you were expecting for this panel. You had expected it to be on a bigger stage, with more fanfare. But it was actually just a small panel hidden away at the back of the convention centre, up a flight of stairs that people might have missed. You had wondered, momentarily, whether you should get up and leave… Yet something was telling you to remain seated and stay. Just because it hadn’t been what you were expecting, didn’t necessarily mean it was going to be a bad thing. The audience seemed to be friendly too, a combination of people who you hoped would ask some thought-provoking questions and wouldn’t turn this all into baseless speculation over who the actor behind Mando really was.

When it got started, though, it soon transpired that this was not going to be the discussion you thought it was. The guys running the panel were sharing their views about Mando as though it was one of the online Star Wars podcasts that you avoided like the plague. There was little room for audience participation. The chair of the panel, a man with a backwards baseball cap on, which was slightly cringeworthy considering he must have been pushing fifty, was called Jeff.

Jeff was very American, thrashing his limbs around exaggeratedly, imitating Mando’s fight style as his voice got quicker and higher pitched in enthusiasm for the tough warrior. Jeff and his colleagues were definitely the kind of people who watched The Mandalorian just to see him fight bad guys and kill them in cool, new ways. Obviously you enjoyed that too, but there was really so much more to the show and the character than just fighting. You wished that they could see that too, especially considering they were running a damn panel about it!

You were so utterly tuned out by their incessant ramblings that you turned your head towards the back of the room to indulge in a bit of people watching. Principally, to see if the two guys on your row that Ria had chatted to before the panel began were as bored as you were. It seemed that even they were utterly uninterested in Jeff and his buddies. You found that your relative boredom was mirrored on the expressions of numerous others in the room who were just as unenthused by Jeff and co’s surface-level analysis of the show you all loved. You felt at that moment that if you and Ria had somehow been able to lead a panel it would have been much more exciting.

You would have actually introduced some nuance and character analysis as the title of the panel had suggested would happen. Ria’s wild theory that this would be the place that Mando would reveal himself to the world had soon gone out of the window, too. Out of all the places in the world that he could choose (or not) to finally reveal his identity, a room tucked away in the far corner of the Dockside Convention Centre did not seem the most likely.

But your stomach dropped in the familiar way that it had when you were crouched underneath the staircase, catching your breath after the bedlam of entering the Con.

It was him.

The same cosplayer was back.

He was sitting on the last seat in the row, two rows behind and opposite you, perfectly straight with his shoulders back, hands resting on his knees. It was almost uncanny, the way he held himself… it was so much like the way you had witnessed Mando sit so many times on the show. When he visited cantinas or sat in his ship, Mando held himself in an uncannily similar position.

You shook your head, mentally telling yourself to snap out of it – you were being ridiculous! If Ria was thinking these thoughts, you would tell her to stop being crazy. You were usually the grounded, rational one. For even you to be getting caught up in such delusional thinking, well that was truly concerning. Perhaps it was thanks to the early start and crowds. Either way, it seemed as though you were really losing it.

You blamed it on Mando, all logical thought went straight out of your brain when it came to him. Of course the best Mando cosplayers would be here at this con. It wasn’t really him, but it sure was uncanny how realistic both the cosplay and way he sat was. Extremely uncanny. You didn’t have time to dwell on it, though… because Jeff was asking a question to the audience. One that you were keen to answer honestly and defend the character that you loved so much, with as much ferocity as if he was really listening to your every word.

“So, finally, we wanted to leave a few minutes for discussion about what the character of Mando means to all of you, here. You must be pretty big fans of the show to have found us all the way back up here!” Jeff joked, to a few laughs from the room.

You had gotten the sense since you had walked into this panel that Jeff and his buddies viewed everyone here with a baseline level of contempt. It was something that you couldn’t quite place your finger on, but you felt as though if a person did not entirely agree with his point of view, then he was not impressed by them.It was a shame, really, you loved hearing the opinions of others. Even if you didn’t agree with them, you always found out something new about yourself.

Jeff had only just finished speaking, and already there was a steady stream of people flocking to queue at the microphone positioned in the aisle. There was nothing on earth that could motivate you to go up there, so you sat, with your arms folded, and leaned back into your chair. This would all be over in a few minutes. Then there would be a hopefully much more interesting panel about historical parallels with Star Wars, something you were truly interested in, that you wanted to check out with Ria.

The first few audience comments were pretty dull. You disagreed with all of them almost entirely as they again reduced the concept of understanding a character to things such as seeing a face and knowing a name. Jeff just responded hollowly, thanking the speakers for their thoughts. But it did not provoke any deeper discussions like you had been hoping for.

That was certainly a disappointment, but it was not a reason for you to lose your temper. You just felt slightly numb to the whole experience, wishing it was over as soon as possible and already plotting your route to the next panel. It was dull, but inoffensive.

That was, until the next two speakers boiled your blood with their assumptions and cruel jibes.

“When I first started watching The Mandalorian I loved it. I really thought Star Wars was back!” A man in a Darth Vader hoodie, who was probably in his late thirties, said proudly as he echoed the empty talking points that you had heard over and over since The Mandalorian premiered. You scoffed and rolled your eyes. This guy was clearly someone who thought that Star Wars was all bad now. He probably bought into all the theories that his precious sci-fi franchise had been ruined by women. He continued his tirade: “But now, it’s just the same thing every week. A hollow, emotionless tin can man strutting around from planet to planet, taking guys out. Like, it was cool the first few times but it’s just getting boring now. We need to see his face!”

Your blood was slowly boiling as you heard all of these hollow criticisms of the show you loved so much. It truly upset you that a place you had believed would be full of fellow fans who would be eager to enthuse about the show alongside you and Ria had been nothing of the sort. Instead of the welcoming, open-minded environment you had expected, things had been wildly different, as the next speaker was about to prove once again.

The next man who spoke had long brown hair. He was dressed in a Mando t-shirt and jeans.

“I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love the show and all. But I just feel like we don’t know that much about Mando. It’s as if we, as an audience, are being held back from connecting with him fully because of some diva’s selfish demands to keep his identity hidden!” The man exclaimed. Several people laughed and applauded. He was probably around your age but it stunned you how drastically different your opinions on the show could be. Perhaps he spent his time online in different circles than you. In fact, you were almost certain that you had seen these conspiracy theories about Mando’s actor pushed by people who swore it as the gospel truth, even though there was absolutely no proof of it. But he was not done yet, levelling a final cruel jab at the actor who played Mando: “Seriously, the guy who plays him must be such an asshole. Imagine having to work with that guy!”

Your head was burning… that was too much. Once people got personal about the actor too, that did it for you. It was one thing to criticise the show, but to level insults towards the person behind the character, who clearly did not want his business in the public eye, was enough to compel you to speak up.

Before you really knew what you were doing, you had somehow risen from your seat, stumbled over a few bags and outstretched legs and now stood in front of the microphone. Jeff looked at you expectantly, the eyes of everyone in the room were on you. Suddenly the gravity of what you were about to do had dawned on you, you felt your pulse thundering in your ears. But then you remembered what the previous guy had said about Mando, and you opened your mouth to launch into a passionate defence of your favourite fictional character of all time.

“I think tying Mando’s identity to his name and face is a pretty narrow way of viewing how we can understand who someone truly is inside and what exactly motivates them. I mean, I think I’ve connected to his character pretty well without ever seeing his face or knowing his real name. That’s because Mando has proved time and time again what kind of man he is. The way he has risked his life multiple times to rid the galaxy of threats and evil shows that he is committed to securing a brighter future, even if he is not around to see it. This man is willing to sacrifice himself for the greater good. Sure, we don’t know his name or face or a lot about his origins, but I think to us, that should prove that he has nothing but noble intentions. That human side of the man beneath all of the armour allows us to connect to him on a far deeper level than just seeing a face and learning a name ever could.”

Jeff began to thank you for your thoughts, using the same hollow phrases that he had used for every previous speaker, but you were not done yet. For the reason you had stood up to speak was not only motivated by the way people had spoken about Mando, the character. It was not just accusations against the fictional man that you were here to refute, but also the way that they had tried to turn on the man beneath the Beskar.

“Also, I know no one outside this room will probably ever hear what had been said at this panel, but I think attacking the character of the man who portrays Mando, simply because he wants privacy, is unfair. I think we should always talk about people, online and publicly, as though they can read or hear what we say. We don’t know why he won’t say who he is, but I trust that he has his reasons. Even then, he doesn’t need to have a good reason,” You argued passionately, noticing how the trembling in your voice had ceased the more you spoke. “Everyone is entitled to their privacy for the simple fact of wanting to be private. I just think that we see Mando go from planet to planet, connecting with locals and communicating with them respectfully. He leaves every place better than he found it… I wish more people would take those lessons from the show, too, rather than how skilled Mando is at fighting and killing,” You made a pointed effort to look straight at Jeff as you made that last quip about his fighting skills, but he just stayed slumped in his seat, hand resting under his chin, looking utterly bored. Your words had done nothing to get through to him.

You walked back to your seat, head down, trembling. Speaking that much in public had been a lot more than you would ever have expected yourself to be able to handle. Ria was staring at you dumbfounded, her mouth open in shock.

“Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?” Ria asked, astonished.

“I… uh….” You stuttered.

“Look, I knew you loved Mando, but that was insane!” Ria whispered excitedly, while beaming at you. “You defended him as if he was a real person, like he was actually here in the room! That was awesome, beyond badass! He’d be so proud of you, bestie.”

“Thank you.” You whispered, face suddenly feeling hot. You were sure you were visibly shaking after your public outburst. But it had been worth it, you had meant every word.

A few more people offered their thoughts but your head was still buzzing with the emotional exertion of public speaking, so you did not pay them much mind, even if they still repeated the same old tired arguments about Mando that you had just tried to argue against.

Finally, Jeff drew things to a close and then it was time for everyone to leave. He had invited people to come and speak to him at the front after the panel if they wished to, but you were definitely not going to be taking him up on that offer. You had believed that anyone given such an incredible opportunity to speak about something they loved at an event as prestigious as ForceCon would be nothing less than delighted. But clearly, you were mistaken. Jeff had seemed utterly bored throughout the panel, not least when people he did not agree with had spoken. You were not a fan of him and his backwards baseball cap in the slightest.

As the panel ended and people began to filter out, you glanced around to where the incredible cosplayer had been sitting. But it seemed that while you had been distracted by your emotional state after speaking so publicly, he had already made his way out. You were disappointed, you wanted to compliment him on his cosplay and maybe even get a picture with him.

Just being in his presence twice had been intoxicating, you had been unable to look away from him. When you saw him, it really felt like you were actually in the world of The Mandalorian. You had a strong desire to be near him again, but you were too late. The man was apparently long gone. But you didn’t want to dwell on that and ruin the rest of your experience. You still had three more days here. So it was time to get over your disappointment, even though you were still kicking yourself for not pointing him out to Ria.

As you made your way down to the main hall of the convention centre, you couldn’t help but feel your chest swell with pride when you remembered how you had spoken in such a surprisingly eloquent manner at the panel. It had really been so many steps out of your comfort zone, but you had proved to yourself that you could do it. This entire weekend, really, was out of your comfort zone. But so far, you were matching every hurdle before you.

Perhaps speaking up at the panel would be the start of a new, more confident you. A you that was unafraid to stand up for what she believed in.

But then, the idea of a simple panel at a sci-fi convention being some sort of life changing experience was surely an absurd notion.

Wasn’t it?

Next Chapter

Taglist: @toxic-seduction

#my fics #tbobw #din djarin fanfic #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin fanfiction #mando x reader #mando x you #the mandalorian fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #i am also titling chapters now lmao this one was a paramore song

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awhalesrider · 5 months ago

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Where Did You Sleep Last Night

A translation to my old fanfic on AO3. Apologies in advance for some clumsy wording and bugs in timeline.

Pairing: Johnny Silverhand/Female V (Valerie)

Chapter Summary: V had a bad birthday, and Johnny offered some sleep aid.

Additional tags: During canon, Pre Pistis-sophia, Soft Johnny

Getting a room is usually for a wild night.

That's true.

They rarely slept outside because it wasn't worth it - he spent too little time understanding a merc's lifestyle in the 70s. V was kicking around like a puppy. With those few eddies earned, she could barely afford a full meal and throw a few chromes on her body. It's kinda dumb for a merc worrying about the next meal and the next day to pay for someone else's bed. According to V, she’d rather get a good fuck. The only reason why they spent money on this shabby hotel for the first time was because of the thunderstorm, heavy as shit.

Johnny Silverhand stepped on V's wet footprints and stood behind her. He looked inside. The birthday suite was just as bad as he imagined. A sour smell mixed with the moisture of rain rolled out as soon as the door was opened. The air rushed straight to their head. There are generally only two possibilities for this situation - either time has rotted inside like a corpse, or there really was a corpse. Either way, it's all fucked up.

V stood at the door for a long time. "'kay..." She grabbed her half-wet hair, trying not to show her disgust too obviously. But Johnny could easily sense the resistance from the instinctive reaction of her throat and nose. She took a long breath: "Not that bad, right?"

Not that bad, you serious? Johnny had to admit that V got talents in self-persuasion. But they would have to continue to fight against her senses. Preem for both of them.

Unfortunately he's not the one in charge.

"C'mon, Johnny." She said, more like trying to convince herself than trying to convince him. The high frequency of self-talking always seemed to make her feel better.

"Let's see what we have here."

The door slid shut behind her. V found the switch with a few coughs. The light, however, only made the abstract badness a little more realistic. Prolly this is the characteristic of a roadside love hotel - kinda arrogant frugality: tattered curtains, dirty carpets, old toys, and super dream equipment on the table as if the cleaners quit after washing the sheets without taking those leftover gifts (mainly used syringes and condoms) in the corner for the next guests.

"Gonk's gettin five-star service. " Johnny decided to remind her of another option at the right time, "Another lesson for our merc."

V sighed, "Know what? Whatever you gotta say – say it."

"Never heard the old saying? East or west, home is the best."

"No, no...Johnny. It's raining like shit outside. And didn't I tell you cops are locking down Watson? Maxtac is prolly having a party there too." V gave a bunch of good reasons, though she was obviously frustrated about it, and she should be,'cause no one would get themselves in a stinky room on a night like this - well, maybe he would fifty years back. But she's not him, and she didn't want to be him.

"Well, then, got two lucky misters spending the night with ya." He pointed to the two dildos on the table that were performing a fencing match.

"Haha, very funny." V laughed dryly and took them away. She flipped him a finger and Johnny returned it back. She ignored him and opened the window.It was raining just right. V threw the two outside onto the awning to shower.

Johnny smiled. She was always very creative when it came to little revenge on nobody. The rain soaked into their palms. V turned around, taking a moment to wash away those flowers of blood, and she began kicking the garbage into a corner where she couldn't see it.

Poor girl, being angry for only two seconds, was now busy cleaning up the mess without getting paid. Should've spent the time roasting some brains of NCPD who blocked her way.

Johnny leaned against the wall.

Never thought brain-dead made mercs rush for biz at a loss.

Johnny came up with some jokes at this moment, like "somebody deserved a wanted poster hanging on her neck with what she's done, and now she's trying to be a law-abiding citizen". But V was a little too quiet as she walked around the room, not even commenting on the endless complaints in her head and yelling "Johnny you are not helping".

He got a bad feeling.

V kept the window open, making the smell in the room less unpleasant, but the strong wind, thunder, and wetness made them feel as if they had just moved to a different place to get caught in the rain. V tried to pretend that she did this on purpose, but their sensory pathways were exposing the truth: She had a loss of sensation in her lower limbs for a while, and she could not manage to stand up on her own.

This is no good. Johnny thought. The biochip was taking advantage of her injury, forcing her to retreat. But he could do nothing about it except watch the effect of the combat stimulant fade in her body.

V took off her jacket, and then the coat with blood spots. She put them on the bed sheet, and then the smell of blood temporarily covered the smell of old bedding. She sniffed, put her gun next to the pillow, and slowly lay down. Merc fumbled in her waist bag for a bottle, impatiently letting the alcohol pour rudely into her torn wound. Johnny saw the dark sweat marks on her close-fitting vest blurred into large patches, and the pain was vividly soaking her again. And V just lay there quietly, holding her arms tightly, waiting for this torture.

She was too tired to sustain any confrontational behavior, which was not good in any sense. Johnny dropped his previous attitude.

"V." He sat in the chair next to her, staring at her tense shoulders, "Can't sleep like this."

"Shut the fuck up, old man." She turned towards him. The words from her mouth seemed damp, wearily sticking in the air. Johnny noticed that the bullet pendant was sliding down her wet chest. V didn't look at him, as if she couldn't lift her eyelids at all. She was just clenching her teeth, insisting on digesting the painful groan. She shrank to the corner of the bed, with her shoulders trembling in the cold air, avoiding the radiation of the "flash bomb" that enveloped the entire city.

"Just… Stop talkin' for now, okay?" She tried to steady herself by holding the pendant, with her voice barely audible in the rain. "Need to meet the VDBs in Pacifica tomorrow... and I'm really tired."

Alright. Johnny stood up and walked away a little, hoping that she was not tired of living.

The windowpanes were clanging in the wind, and he watched V close her eyes in the noise and pray to get accepted in dreams. Fate is not such a cruel bitch if V could get what she wanted. Unfortunately, life is always hard, and most people in this city can't afford the ticket to a sweet dream. Only death has a kind heart not to turn people away.

Her eyelids twitched. The intense pain began to peel away from her body, getting replaced by waves of neuralgia, which was not life-threatening but still a continuous torture. The disrupted cognitive system made her fall into a trance similar to a hangover. Merc was still far from her dreams, but she was already having nightmares. Some noise was running wild in her blood. The strong wind blew into her brain, blowing into a mess of thoughts, some of which came from his memory fragments, but more of them were the bloody parts of her own story.

Fuck. The sting in his chest grew stronger, but he wasn't sure if it was her feeling it.

V suddenly opened her eyes, with her forehead covered with sweat. Her wet red hair was stuck to her temples.

"... Johnny." She spoke in a low voice.

See? Here's who shut his mouth just now.

"Johnny?" But she called him again, as if she hadn't heard his thoughts, or felt in need of more response. Kinda disturbing, that, like a string of trills hanging alone on a music sheet.

"What? Need a napkin to draw unicorns, Matilda?"

"Kiss my ass." Said V, searching him with her eyes. Preem, at least she had regained the energy to curse. He met her gaze and felt a little ease of the dull and heavy pain in her chest.

"By the way, I'm Leon when it comes to professionalism."

Johnny raised an eyebrow with a little surprise. The film was half a century older than she was, but she knew what he was talking about. Maybe she was good at appreciating antiques.

"What now?" He asked, as a reward, "Our cold-blooded killer needs a bedtime story?"

He expected V to say something more, but she didn't.

"…Yeah, I guess." She just nodded and turned over, as if she's tapped out after trying to maneuver on the tattered sheets.

"Let's talk." She looked at him and continued to persuade him, "Do me a favor. Today's my birthday. It's now or never."

They both sadly realized that the joke was likely to become a reality, but she was still like any girl in 2020 who's a little off her rocker, except not that empty and fanatical, but still treating him as a confession window in the church. People would fill the desperate indifference with burning fuel.

Maybe she should really join the Animals if they would still like a rain-soaked puppy after seeing her sober self.

"Fine." Johnny compromised too quickly, and as he sat close to her, he began to strongly suspect that this was some scam created by the mental link between them. "'bout what?"

He felt strange after a second. Dumb questions. They were inseparable for 24 hours every day, and their brains were so small that their souls would collide with each other at any time, just like when he knocked her to the ground when they first met, she pointed at his nose and called him a dickwipe the next day. People always have noise in their heads. They should have talked a long time ago. In fact, they did: about Arasaka, Mikoshi, Soulkiller, and how to save her life.

"Anything. Just...don't be quiet." V narrowed her eyes. The lightning left a bleak white mark on her face, and she spoke again amid the chaotic thunder.

"...I...dunno, Johnny. I'm scared… for a little. " She smiled. The curve of her lips turned into a heavy expression. But it's unlike the kind she was good at expressing or he was used to dealing with. The smile was almost unattractive, but he suddenly felt that he had encountered a huge problem.

Johnny fell into a rare moment of silence.

"Of what?" He sat down and asked in a low voice, "Thunder?"

"Ugh, fuck off."

The joke was inappropriate, but it worked, obviously making her a little happier. "Think I'm a baby girl crying for her mother?"

Johnny snorted, "Whatever you say."

How old was she? Not even thirty. Many people in Night City didn't live to that age. He didn't deny that if anyone told his story, thirty might be considered his "old age". But she was still a girl, a stupid little thief who hadn't seen much of the world. Not old enough to die anyway.

"Okay." V ended the topic resignedly with a strange expression on her face, as if not knowing whether to cry or laugh with the fact in their head.

The rain made a series of sounds on the iron sheet outside the window, and she immediately wanted to break away from the silence in the room.

"…Wanna guess why I can't sleep?"

Johnny looked up at V's pale face, still unsure whether he should be her doctor.

"Too busy in your head?"

"Didn't even think about it seriously, did you?" she questioned like she was complaining, but her voice seemed to have reached the edge of blurred consciousness, with sleep or death on the other side.

"Same at first." She took a breath and finished her sentence. "Y'know, seeing your past all the time... Not the 'fuckin' something up' part. I mean, sex, gigs, radio-hacking..."

"Havin' fun, huh?"

"Hah, it's a mess. Bright light, loud music...gets me all dizzy, and... When I opened my eyes, cops were chasing me for blocks. My brains were 'bout to be shaken out." She released the hand that was tucked in front of her chest from the pendant and stretched it towards the direction where he was sitting. "But it's not bad... It's crazy but... alive. So... not exactly what kills my sleep."

Johnny sat near her without a word, waiting for her to explain.

"Don't wanna fall asleep," she said slowly, "cuz I'm afraid that...I won't wake up again."

"…"

V raised her eyelids and stared at his chair in a daze, then looked at him again. The scene of rain and fog outside the window appeared in her eyes.

Okay, merc's really going to give him a hard time. Her face and her thoughts got him amused but worried. Johnny found that V always confused him, even though he knew her thoughts better than anyone else. What? You are worried about your life every day, and you have been busy for a long time just to get rid of this fucking chip in your head. And now you are treating the time bomb as your guardian angel?

"Feel like dyin' when I fall asleep, Johnny." Her fingertips drew helpless swirls on the bed sheet, obviously not sober enough to answer his question, "A few days ago... I mean when I could still get some sleep, I thought I wasn't afraid of this... and anything. When Dex DeShawn asked me if I wanted to die at the age of thirty or get old in bed, I thought it was only about where to close my eyes. But I ..."

V closed his eyes again.

Building. Thunderstorm. Fall. Delamain. Smell of blood. Sad eyes. Bullet in the skull.

The dream screamed past his eyes. Johnny heard her spirit trembling as if she would collapse at any time due to info overload, which was a hundred times more painful than lying on the operating table without anesthesia.

"...Always dream about that day in the car... Every time I thought Jackie's just... falling asleep... Dunno how he felt at that time. Is it the same as I am... or you were...?" Her whole body was tense, and her breathing became disordered. "Pain, cold, nausea, like a nightmare, right?"

"So I was wondering... I was wondering why can't I just go flatline?"

The thunder almost shattered her words.

Johnny looked down to the floor, wondering if V noticed that she sounded like sobbing, though she wasn't. That's so not V, 'cause she was the kind of tough, sharp, brave, and capable person who was liked by everyone - of course they liked her. And she was the kind of fool that fixers favored, the kind of friend that edge runners loved, a kind of brave coward who forgot how seriously she took death. She's willing to eat the blood on the tip of a knife as long as she is given enough eddies or a true heart.

"…It's not that simple." He had no choice but to say this first, but he still didn't have much of a clue.

"Huh?"

"Been dead for fifty years, 'course I know more."

"But now I'm the one with only a few days left。" She pointed out.

The pain then hit him, much more severe than he expected. It was spreading to her limbs and organs and almost everywhere. Johnny couldn't even tell which part he was responsible for. He didn't like it, and he didn't like her saying so, because it reminded him that it was him killing her for all times, even today.

Johnny walked to the window, lit a cigarette, and heard the countdown ticking in her mind. Prolly this was why she didn't want him quiet. It was rare that they didn't break out into an argument, but still, they fell into silence with confrontation.

V had every reason to want an end. After all, she had come this far.

But she has survived until now. He always thought she was the type who liked to risk her life, taking jobs without careful consideration, and going through fire and water for everyone who regarded her as a friend. And now she wanted to dig a grave for herself in advance? This is not V.

Or maybe this is her?

Johnny let out a long exhale. The smoke and rain slowly mixed together, and he tried to calm himself down.

"…Emptiness." He told her.

"What?"

"Feeling of death." He turned around, putting the sentences together in the severe pain flowing through him, "Thought it was a stupid BD playin' for 24 hours? That's too fucking silly. You'll understand when you've been dead for a while... No sound, no perception, nowhere to rest for your consciousness. Last bit of existence's been taken away, like a fuckin broken plastic bag flying everywhere, and no one will give a fuck to ya."

V's eyes rested on him quietly: "…What are you tryin' to tell me?"

"I'm telling you getting some fuckin' sleep is never the same as dying."

The chair legs made a sharp sound on the floor, and he sat down in front of her again.

"... and stop thinkin' 'bout putting that bullet back in your brain. It's not any better than you are now."

Johnny leaned back in his chair and realized what he just said was a pure mistake, as if he was comforting a frightened child from a nightmare. Sounded like something that would be filmed in an animation half a century ago, the kind of unrealistic fairytale. But he was completely involved in her feelings and emotions. Nicotine was not enough to relieve his anxiety. Johnny continued to be annoyed that he had no right to accuse her of a bunch of depressing words, and he couldn't help wanting to finish what he said.

"Listen, V." He pinched her chin with his hand, forcing her to look at him more closely, but it seemed more like he was trying to pull her out of the suffocating fear. "Havin' your nightmares means you are still alive. We have a chance to think about how to be buried in the future. You hear me?"

V also stared at him, holding his wrist tightly and breathing rapidly. Her lips tightly pursed: "Sounds more like telling me not to be afraid of dying?"

"I'm telling you not to be afraid to live, V." Johnny let go of his hand and stood up, feeling his thumb brushed by warm rain.

"…and then get some ideas of makin' your days less fucked up next year."

He threw the cigarette on the ground and extinguished it, and the spark jumped into her eyes. V looked at him, and her cheeks finally turned red again because of her attempt to disengage herself. After a long silence, she finally smiled, but also really shed tears.

The sound of rain outside the window gradually weakened. It took a long time for V to speak this time.

"…Without you." She said with her voice hoarse.

It seemed that she finally remembered the solution they had agreed on at the beginning. Johnny was not sure whether he heard more certainty or more regret, but weaving a dead person into the story was a good sign for a dream anyway. This was exactly her current symptom.

Her breath was no longer so heavy, and Johnny could feel that the tingling in her nerves was gradually leaving. The dark water stains on her chest had not yet dried up, and were illuminated by the dazzling white light into a shining river, flowing slowly with her breathing.

Are you asleep, V? He asked, never needing to speak but intending to reach out anyway.

Thunder exploded again not far from them, but this time V was not awakened. She lay quietly, holding the bullet in her chest with her fingers, and seemed to fall into an eternal sleep.

He had to admit that he was a little scared now.

As if by magic, his fingers reached behind her ear.

Her pulse beat beneath her warm skin. He breathed a sigh of relief.

"…G' night, Johnny." V said, exhausted, but alive. She smiled for the first time today. Her red hair fell down in a relaxed manner, like a cluster of flames pouring down on him in the whistling wind, and his chrome hand that had felt the heat of countless explosions was withdrawn as if it was burned. Johnny heard her sigh softly, like blowing out a candle.

The electronic projection of him dissipated, like a light smoke.

#silverv #cyberpunk 2077 #johnny silverhand #female v #johnny x v #cp2077 #cyberpunk2077 #johnny silverhand x v #fanfiction #otp: JV4evah #c: Valerie

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eri3ne · 10 months ago

Text

hope less romantics

sprace fanfic

Racetrack Higgins was a newsie, a gambler, and a troublemaker. A jack-of-all-trades if you will. He was all these things to the public, and on his own time, he was something of a hopeless romantic. Hopeless, not in the way that he spent all of his time consumed by the idea that love would come along and everything would be alright. That one day he would meet “the one” and know immediately and without any issue “true love” and all that. He was not naive enough for that. But, sometimes, late at night or on days when business was slow, he would let his mind wander. He would imagine what it would be like to love, and be loved. To share his life with someone he cared about. To share the boring, mundane parts or life with. But, another thing that Race was, is a realist. And he had accepted that that just, wasn’t gonna happen for him. He could imagine and daydream as much as he wanted, but he didn’t lead a life where romance was anywhere near his top priority. It probably shouldn’t even be in the top fifty things Race should be thinking about. And yet, here he was.

Spot Conlon was The King of Brooklyn, feared by newsies throughout all of New York. But, in reality, he was just another kid, another kid with, what felt like, the weight of the world on his shoulders. He knew that he had grown up all too soon, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. Though, sometimes he wondered what it might be like to not have all of his responsibilities and such a reputation to uphold. But, he would never pass it on to someone else, he couldn’t imagine not doing what he does. Most of the time he enjoys it. Well, as much as someone can enjoy being a newsie and being “in charge” of at least fifty of your peers at any moment. But there were perks to it, like friends that became family. Spot loved his life despite the less than desirable work conditions and the stress he often felt. He’d accepted his place in the word and decided to make the most of it.

Race was running down a sidewalk in Brooklyn heading for the bridge and back into Manhattan when he ran into Spot Conlon for the first time. And he did just that, ran straight into the guy, didn’t even realize he was there. The two boys fell to the ground at the collision. Race scrambled to apologize as quickly as possible while jumping up and running off simultaneously. Spot just sat there for a moment confused. No more than a few seconds later, Spot saw an older looking man running in the same direction yelling, but he couldn’t quite tell what the man was saying. And that only made him more confused. Who was that kid? Who was the man chasing him? Why was that man chasing him? The boy, in his haste, had dropped and left his bag. And out of curiosity Spot picked up the bag, its contents were quite minimal, a couple of newspapers and a hefty handful of change. Now, Spot didn’t know the boy this bag belonged to, but he was pretty sure that he knew where its home was.

Usually, after he was finished working for the day, Spot would go back to the lodging house, play cards with his friends, grab a bite to eat, and then go to sleep. But, today, he missed out on his nightly routine to take the long trek to the Manhattan newsies lodging house. Despite his fantastic reputation, Spot is a pretty nice guy, he normally wouldn’t go this far out of his way to return a lost belonging, maybe he was just feeling particularly generous on this particular day. So off he went, the stranger's bag in hand.

It was a surprisingly pleasant walk, and eventually Spot arrived at his destination. The door was propped open so Spot decided that that was an invitation to just go in. The first face he saw was a familiar one, Crutchie, one of the newsies always hanging around Jack Kelly.

“Jack around?” Spot asked when he noticed the confused air of the boys around him.

“Haven't seen him in a few.” Crutchie continued with a smile, “But, I could take a message if you needed?”

Spot thought for a moment, “Nah, no need.” He held out his hand with the boy's bag, “Just return this to its owner. I’m pretty sure one of your guys left it over in Brooklyn this afternoon.”

“Oh!” Crutchie and Spot heard from a distant corner of the room over the sound of a boy jumping up and promptly falling back down. They looked over and saw a boy making his way over. “That- that's mine. Gimmie just a sec…” The boy reached them, slightly out of breath, and stood directly facing Spot. He stuck out his hand, to either shake Spots hand or grab his bag, both of the boys were quite unsure. So, Spot quickly shook the boy's hand, and immediately handed the boy his bag.

He turned to leave and, so as to not be rude, said, “That's all, night fellas.”

And, as he was leaving, Spot heard a quiet “Thanks” from the boy. Who had seemed just as flustered then, as when he had sprinted directly into Spot a few hours beforehand.

Race had no clue what to do with himself. His whole day seemed to be a big string of disasters. He had managed to sleep an hour late, and not a single one of his friends had thought to wake him up. So he got a late start, he went and picked up some papers and headed off to work. By the afternoon, he found himself over in Brooklyn. Playing cards. With a group of rather terrifying men who were easily twice Races’ size.

And, maybe he’d cheated a few times during the game, and maybe he gained money when he shouldn't have. But, what the men didn’t know couldn’t hurt them. And besides, it was in his nature, he couldn’t help it, the risk is what makes playing the game so much fun. That is, until someone notices. And that is exactly what happened. And the guy Race had been “stealing from” seemed pretty serious about getting his money back.

So, Race made the most logical decision.

Start running.

And lucky for Race, he was fast, and this guy didn’t seem like he could say the same. So, he gathered his things, newly earned money included, and he was off. He was weaving through the streets and alleyways, street vendors and commuters with ease. Until. Until he turned his head to see how far he was from the man who was chasing. And-

Whack!

Race ran into something, well…someone. And, full disclosure, he was pretty much just planning on jumping back up and bolting. That is, until he glanced over and noticed who exactly he had run into. The Spot Conlon. All he could think for just a moment was, wow. This was Spot Conlon, the king of Brooklyn, right in front of him. And then, Race dropped back into reality. He was being chased by a grown man and had just run Spot Conlon to the ground. That thought of “wow”, quickly turned into a mental stream of “fuckfuckfuckfuck.” As he quickly said sorry, and did as he had planned to as soon as he fell down.

Race ran all the way back to Manhattan and somewhere along the way he lost the guy chasing him. But by the time he got there he had honestly, sort of forgotten why he was running, he had gotten a bit caught up in doing it, and the horrible interaction that he had along the way that he didn’t even care about the situation that got him there. He had gotten out of it, and that was really all that mattered to Race.

By the time he got back to the lodging house, Race had come to two conclusions.

Number one: Well that was embarrassing

And number two: he had lost his bag along the way.

He had lost his bag. Along with the money. But, he supposed there was nothing he could do about it. It was gone and he was pretty sure that he would never get it back.

Race had gotten over the embarrassment and the loss within a couple of hours. He had gotten engulfed in some random conversation which was no doubt being blown out of proportion, when, out of nowhere, it felt like the air had been sucked right out of the room. And everyone’s attention turned to the doorway.

Race half expected there to be some sort of fight going on at the door, but he was wrong.

Spot. Conlon. Was at the door. He was having a conversation with Crutchie, but from the far corner of the room, Race couldn't tell what they were talking about. But after a moment he saw Spot hold up a bag. Race’s bag. Well, he got it back. But right now he kinda wished he hadn’t.

In a moment where Race had evidently lost any control of his own body, he found himself getting up from the table where he had been talking with his friends, walking over to the door and saying the words, “Thats mine,” as well as some other muttering that no one, not even Race, could quite make out. But he eventually got up to the front of the room and retrieved his belongings. Race had no clue what to do with himself after the fact. So. He just stood there for a second, and sorta just looked at him. Spot that is. Eventually, Spot turned to leave and Race finally found it in himself to say thank you. But, honestly, he wasn’t quite sure the words actually came out of his mouth because absolutely no one reacted. As soon as Spot was gone, Race turned back around and went right up the stairs and lay in his bed just staring at the ceiling.

Well…that was fuckin’ embarrassing.

So. New lesson learned. Apparently Race lost any and all control that he had ever had over his actions in the presence of Spot Conlon. Good to know.

For quite a while after he ran into that boy on the street, Spot Conlon had been curious about the boy. His name, who he was, and what on Earth he had been doing in Brooklyn? That last question was paired in Spots head with the question of how he didn’t know that there was a newsie from Manhattan in Brooklyn. For years, Spot had made it his business to know everyone else’ business but somehow.

After multiple days of asking around, and receiving nothing but shoulder shrugs and confusion as to how he didn’t know who was spending time on, as many of Spots friends had pointed out, his turf, Spot finally discovered who the mystery manhattan boy was. Racetrack Higgins, Jack Kelly's second in command, a teen with a smoking problem, and even bigger gambling problem, and the part which most interested Spot, a boy from Manhattan who spent more than his fair share of time in Brooklyn.

Now, Spot Conlon wasn’t nosy, he let people have their space and he expected the same in return. However , every so often, when something piqued his interest, he was known to…forget about that. So maybe he learned from a few of his boys Racetracks' usual selling spot in Brooklyn. And maybe he would find himself passing by more regularly, and maybe he ended up selling papers just across the street from Racetrack a few times. But it was just because he was curious. An odd kid, who shouldn’t be there, was there and Spot was just keeping an eye out. No ulterior motives to be seen here.

Race spent a lot of time thinking. He didn’t have all that much else to do with himself. He thought himself to sleep at night and made up little stories in his head on slow days. He knew that he had a habit of overthinking things, but he supposed that that was the price he paid for his hyperactive mind. Recently many of those thoughts had been filled with questions about one Spot Conlon.

Did he know who Race was?

Did he hate Race?

Did he think about that one horrible interaction as much as Race did?

Was he stalking Race?

How was he so intimidating?

And why was Race thinking about him so much?

These were the things that filled Race's head all day, every day. And he had an answer to only one of them.

Spot Conlon was most certainly stalking him. Every single day, for almost a month, Spot had been there. At some point in the day, at least. Race started to notice about a week in, he had never seen him around before, and now, Spot Conlon was everywhere.

And maybe it wasn't about Race at all but that wasn’t a thought that would ever cross the boys mind, not in a million years. Because rational thoughts never came to Races mind. But rather, stupid, irrational, and to those he might share them with, utterly ridiculous and/or insane (he’d been called all of the above by those close to him). And this habit was continued on one faithful day, after about a month of being haunted by Spot Conlon.

Race noticed that Spot had been standing directly across the street from him. In the same place, for hours. Usually when he’d show up he would be gone again within the hour, but this time, this time he lingered. And Racetrack wanted to know why. So, he crossed the street as soon as the woman Spot had been talking to left. Maybe he nearly got hit by a car on the way over but that was not his greatest concern, Race was on a mission.

“Heya Spotty,” he said as he approached and, why the hell did he say that, why did he call Spot Conlon a nickname? They didn’t know eachother like that. They didn’t know each other at all.

And evidently Spot felt the same way, “Don’t call me that.” Nothing else. No pleasantries exchanged. Neither of the boys really knew what to say. Spot had no clue why Race was there, and, well, Race had never been very good at planning out his endeavors.

“What do you want Racetrack?” Spot finally broke the uncomfortable silence. So he did know who Race was.

“Well, the funny thing is, is that, that's actually what I was gonna ask you, Spot. I’ve never seen ya over here before and I was just wondering why I started to recently.” and at this point Race knew he was rambling and he really had no clue what to do about it. He just kept talking and was quite frankly praying that Spot would interrupt him.

And for a good while, he didn’t. Race was getting extremely embarrassed but he just. Couldn’t. Stop. Talking. Finally though Spot interrupted him. “Wait wait wait, whaddaya mean you wanted to know why I’m here?” no reply from Race, who was catching his breath from his little rant. “‘Cause, my bein’ makes perfect sense to me, me living here and all. It's you I’m a tad confused about.” Race knew that it would probably be more productive to shut up at this point, go back to his corner, hell, maybe even back home for the rest of the day. But, Race had never been particularly good at doing what he should, the “smart thing” if you will.

“Well, Spotty,” WHY OH WHY DID HE SAY THAT AGAIN , “I’ve spent plenty of time here over the years and I’d never even seen you in person til a few weeks ago. I mean, I was startin’ to think you were just, like, a myth to scare people away from here. But like I was sayin’ I spent plenty of time here and I’ve been selling over here most days outta the week for like…a year now. And you just recently started poppin’ up. Everywhere I go.” Silence and complete indifference from Spot. “Well, what I'm gettin’ at is, are you following me, Spotty? I mean why else would you be everywhere I am?” Now, Race had meant for it to be at least halfway a joke. He honestly had really just wanted to talk to the mysterious boy. But Spot did not appear to find any humor in anything that Race said. In fact, he seemed pretty irritated at him, or maybe that was just his face? Race wasn’t quite sure.

“Get outta here Racetrack,” Spot finally said as he turned to leave.

And, not wanting to anger Spot further, for once in his life, Race actually did what he was told to. He gathered up his few belongings and returned to Manhattan for the rest of that day.

With full intentions, of course, to return to Brooklyn the next day.

#newsies fanfic #newsies #newsies fandom #racetrack higgins #racetrack newsies #spot conlon #sprace #spot conlon/racetrack higgins

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oh-saints · 2 years ago

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gift

when your boyfriend is manchester city’s infamous number 3, it’s a bit hard to find a suitable gift for someone who practically has the world in his hands.

rúben dias x engineer!OC

word count: 3.7k

note: due to popular demand on my askbox (of which i can no longer reply 1-by-1) and as a thank you for the enthusiasm you showed in there, this is the 2nd part to this but can be read as a standalone for those who haven’t read the 1st part. this is also mildly inspired by this ask AND THE GIF (asfghjhjhj i'm still not over it tbh). however, as usual, i happen to always write around dawn so ofc this is not beta-read.

tags: @thatonesexycancerian <3

it didn’t take valentine’s day to know that rúben dias’ dominant love language is giving gifts.

hell, it didn’t even take a week for adrianna to know that. it wasn’t everyone’s cup of tea to curate a spotify playlist specifically for someone, inspired by the way they met and the current long-distance relationship they were holding on, and kept expanding whenever the boyfriend was missing the girlfriend—which was a lot.

the listing parade continued with a letterboxd list of movies to watch so adrianna wouldn’t run out of things to watch and a goodreads list of books so adrianna wouldn’t feel bored when the mood to watch had deserted her. the latter touched a part of her she didn’t know existed because she knew he wasn’t that much of a fan to books, but he’d vouched he’d read them before he recommended it to her.

maybe the sentiment behind them got her more than she’d liked because let’s be realistic, rúben dias is a busy man with a very demanding job, physically and mentally. not to mention he spent more time on the jet plane than on ground. yet, he spared some time—obviously more than he’d admitted over the phone when she confronted him—to create something so personal like that.

but what started small became something else entirely.

the lists, at least those she could take on. however, when adrianna told her boyfriend she was heading for the shore for the first time in a while, the portugese decided by himself that it was a good idea to upgrade her ordinary deluxe hotel room into a suite. while the luxury that was entitled to the hefty price tag was an absolute pleasure to be indulged in after months of being in a rig, adrianna vowed to repay him one way or another, despite rúben’s insistence that he wouldn’t take on the repayment because he'd “be more than happy to give his girl nothing but the best.”

and he lived up to his words. by the time they stepped into the 3-month mark, adrianna shook up the entire rig from having a 100-piece fresh flower bouquet delivered to the facility right before the day started for the engineers. the flowers surely was a rare sight to see, even more unheard of than the legendary blood moon, hence her male counterparts were genuinely elated for her. for her excellent catch, and for the hope it sparked to their love life—be it single-ready-to-mingle-but-distance-sucks or the helpless long-distance relationship.

6 months in and her royal boyfriend treated the entire rig for a banquet with food they rarely had the chance to devour unless they went back on-shore. he slipped in a little gratitude note for always looking out his girl when I’m not around, albeit anonymously because both rúben and adrianna agreed on not telling anyone until they were fully ready to share the relationship with the rest of the world, just like how adrianna had to share rúben.

there was also time when he missed adrianna so much he sent random gifts to the rig. today was a bouquet of lego flowers that rúben had constructed himself and framed in a box, complete with a little note to show how much he longed to have her in his arms once more and a polaroid of him and his dog, sporting all black fashion because they were mourning. she was astounded that (i) he remembered adrianna said the water the rig was using was actually filtered from the surrounding sea and it unfortunately wilted the flowers sooner than expected, (ii) he asked her if she also missed him they way he did her. the last part made her heart skipped a dozen notes.

it wasn’t like she never reciprocated how rúben expressed his profound love towards her—telling him how much she loves him, despite their short time together physically—but she’d never had to show how much she loved someone with gifts. sure, she wasn’t a plain jane or some sort towards that kind of lifestyle but she was more familiar in the tradition of gifting someone else a practical gift. at least something she knew they needed it so she bought it, none gone wasted.

and now… she wasn’t sure at all. because it wasn’t only about what he liked, but it was about how to blow his waters off the pool, too. at the same time, it should also be something that was equivalent as to saying i love you without spelling the 8 letters. she didn’t want rúben to think he was dating someone no good for him, someone who couldn’t match his level. someone not worthy of him. if there was one thing adrianna hated the most was to disappoint people she deeply cared about.

what do you give to someone who’s already had everything best in this world?

while she was now past the privilege of looking at her bank account every pay check day to ensure she could live off safely for the next month, she didn’t hold a single candle—not even the gigantic bath & body works 3-wicks candle—against what could possibly run down deep in rúben’s pocket. she didn’t need to look up his weekly salary—weekly, mind you!—on search bar to know so. take a look at the wall of rúben dias’ corner in her room and you’d get a good guess.

whoever implanted the idea that petroleum chemical engineering would bring abundance of fortune to adrianna’s pocket, surely never had the misfortune of dating someone in the same calibre as rúben dias of manchester city. she certainly had a hard time figuring out what kind of gift could be deemed acceptable for the rúben dias.

good lord, please help. or maybe rúben’s brother if lord was too busy taking another call.

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

adrianna, at this point, didn’t know whether her heart was beating rapidly to match the drums played at the background or due to the nerves jumping up and down under her consciousness. all she knew was that whatever it is she was doing now was definitely on the scale of something she’d never done before, and the desire to give rúben only the best of her—in her capability, that is—was her only drive to play this crazy card.

crazy because she thought of all the things that’d need help arranging when she was so far away from where her boyfriend now and had no prior experience conducting this whole charade; not crazy because ivan thought his brother would want nothing else but what she had up in her sleeve. “crazy? this is probably the best gift he’ll have,” was ivan’s response when she confided her plan.

no matter how much ivan reassured her that her decision was brilliant—to the point he was very willing orchestrating everything else that was out of adrianna’s reach, in order for her plan to be perfectly executed—adrianna couldn’t stop herself from fidgeting her fingers on her lap. what if it still wasn’t enough for rúben?

what if she wasn’t enough for rúben?

if her sister whined once more about wanting to get married someone rich instead of finishing her study, she’d cut off her allowance for the rest of her life. it should serve her the reminder that it wasn’t easy to date someone that seemed… so larger than life. at least, her life.

yes, she’d seen a glimpse of what life next would bring to her back when they met for the first time at the airport. people started to made a sizable crowd around them, with their phone cameras pointed at rúben and her. the photos made the internet go berserk briefly and netizens tried to figure out who rúben’s newest, mystery girl was. but she could take that on, she’d thought. as long as they didn’t step over the boundaries, she understood that much. she was a fan of the jonas brothers herself a long time ago.

but now, as she stepped inside the packed etihad stadium for the last game of the season, she realised what dating rúben dias entailed. the cameras had been set up around the stadium, and it dawned on her that the crowd she went in together with today was only a miniscule part of city fans all over the world. what she did would affect rúben, and what if she took a wrong step? what if that wrong step was a sufficient reason to break their newly-embarked relationship?

adrianna felt like puking this very minute.

“you okay?”

ivan’s voice was enough to cancel her initial reaction of vomiting but not enough to conceal the shaky breath she took as she looked up to the man resembling rúben by the eyes. like his brother, this man harboured some sort of invisible power that unabled her to tell lies. but her mental breakdown was beyond comprehensive words at this point, and there was no way to summarize what she was feeling right now. so she swallowed every last bit of her sanity down the throat and took the seat beside the older man.

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

rúben played excellently as usual, but it was nothing but expected of the backline captain. still, manchester city conceded two easy goals for the opponent. absolute shambles, especially when they were in tight positions to secure another premier league trophy. they lose and the trophy goes elsewhere.

having watched her boyfriend’s matches now, adrianna recognised the look of frustrations rúben sported. frustrated that his team could’ve done better, frustrated that his team were on the verge of giving up, frustrated that he couldn’t contribute better on the other goal end. they needed two more goals to make an epic comeback.

they were running so well for the whole season that adrianna couldn’t help but blame herself, should they lose in her presence. she was halfway believing it was because of her that the team was behind because it was supposed to be an easy team win. it was the day she decided to come to manchester to finally catch her boyfriend in action after all.

“you should text him,” ivan said when the referee blew the halftime whistle and adrianna watched as her boyfriend was walking towards the tunnel, shaking his head, obviously disgruntled at the result so far. “it’ll cheer him up.”

why bother on placing another jinx of misfortune towards rúben and his teammates?

maybe her idea of coming here was bound to doom.

“i don’t want to distract him, ivan.”

“contrary to your belief, you’re the reason he’s so focused, adrianna,” ivan clicked his tongue in disbelief. “you make him better than every day before. it never happens to my brother.”

maybe ivan was only saying it was a good one out of pity towards her, seeing that her plan was failing.

“whatever,” ivan continued, his voice matching his gruff exterior. “i sent him one picture of you already, thought that might fuel his spirit even more.”

should she? what if her text wasn’t enough to lift rúben up?

just as about adrianna was on the verge of giving in, she felt something running down her spine. that familiar shiver when you know someone was watching you from behind. but instead of fear, she felt warmth. the kind of warmth that only rúben could emit. be it his voice, his presence—him. she turned her line of sight to the direction of the grass pitch and there he was, standing tall and proud and unbothered like his reputation of wall of china while looking at her with eyes smeared with a little bit of disbelief, but zeroed on her nonetheless. contrasting the traditional centre back posture was his mega-watt smile, the one he never failed to show her whenever she picked up his video calls before greeting her with, “minha vida, meu amor, how are you today?”

the one she knew he reserved it only for her. because it never failed to make her feel like the only girl in the world at that moment, like she was the centre of his universe and nothing else mattered to him the most.

and at that moment, she knew rúben chose her because she was enough for him.

it was easy for them the first time they met, and it was easy now for her to feel the affection rúben loved to shower her unconditionally with.

and before her brain could take over the last piece of logic inside her, adrianna flashed him a grin that stretched from ear to ear at the view that reminded her of a chesire cat eager to play with alice in wonderland. her version of the smile that was only intended for rúben dias and only at rúben dias, no matter the time and place.

she waved at him involuntarily, the part of her body that had been missing him to bits since their airport encounter stole the start from her rationale, unable to contain the lingering that had been gnawing her heart for months now. fuck distance makes heart grow fonder, it softened the hell out of the organ she could combust if she didn’t get to touch her boyfriend when they were now this close to being together, physically and mentally.

she didn’t think his smile could grow any bigger but it did, as she waved at him. and the disbelief in his eyes turned into something else entirely. fierce, but elated. like he was so happy she was here that it was enough to fire again the determination and desire to grab the win from the back. like he’d finally found his reasoning and awakening altogether at the same time.

and it was enough for him to light up the spirit. of him, of his fellow defenders, of his team. of the stadium and the fans everywhere else in the world when he slotted another well-executed header into the opponent’s goal to level the score. it looked effortless; perfectly timed and executed by kevin.

and for rúben, effortless was something he grew accustomed to lately, despite some people calling him crazy for his “rash” decision. but he couldn’t blame people when they don’t exactly know the real meaning of the word, not when he knew they didn’t have adrianna to show him everything he needed to know about falling in love effortlessly. like his goal, his encounter with adrianna was perfectly timed. so for him, there was nothing else more suitable than a celebration to match the theme.

the portugese didn’t think twice when he ran to the other end from where the goal just went in, so fast his mates were screaming his name to slow down, and then he simply stood there with the same smile he knew she loved and knew only came out when he was with her. no grandiose gesture, he just straight on looked up at his girlfriend, now wearing the blue shirt he’d always dream to see her on. erupting crowd and back hugs from his teammates paled to the pride and proud she wore in her face as she looked down at him.

ilkay shook the stadium once more when his strike went past the goalie the last 3 minutes of the game, pretty much sealing the most coveted trophy in the football industry for the 4th time to manchester city. when the whistle finally blew, literally and figuratively, the crowd went wild to the point the players had to be rescued from the pitch towards the tunnel. rúben didn’t think twice to call ivan immediately as he reached the locker room to ask if they were safe and sound.

(well, the implied question was if adrianna was safe and sound.)

the roaring stadium couldn’t even conceal the palpitating beats inside his ribcage, the blood rushed to his ears faster than his regular pace that his phone had to alerted him to calm down. but how could he calm down when he just contributed the most important goal of his career, in the presence of the woman he loved? in the presence of the woman whom he knew must’ve taken half of her precious annual leave so bravely just to see him?

how could he calm down when he knew she was so close yet so far? when he knew he could’ve run upstairs just to have her in his arms for a minute before returning back in time for the trophy lift?

should he just forego this whole thing and be with her instead? he’d won 3 epl trophies before, the thrilling feeling shouldn’t be new anymore, right?

unfortunately, however, before he could execute his crazy escapade, the staff ushered the first team out to the field again for the one thing the entire building had been working on.

rúben waited in line for his turn to earn his silver medal with “4-time champion” inscribed on it and while doing so, he couldn’t help himself to look up to the tribune where adrianna was at. as soon as he saw the grin she was sporting, jumping up and down beside his brother ivan, looking as real and as regal as the first time he saw her, he smiled so wide john stones had to elbow him on the belly. “where’s the missus at? she here?”

rúben only answered the barnsley native with a nod towards his girlfriend, the grin on his face never perished. she waved again at him, her excitement so infectious that rúben couldn’t stop himself from blowing a kiss at her. john laughed at how corny that was but couldn’t bring himself to blame the portugese from being lovesick. being deserted by your ex just when you popped the question wasn’t something easy to comeback from. john was only glad he’d found a better match in all aspect for rúben, despite the distance the couple had to endure together.

the trophy lifted and paraded to every corner of the pitch, photos taken at every sequence, and now it was time for the family to congratulate their loved ones for the hard work they’d committed this past year. adrianna, included, although she only had the privilege recently.

despite the ardent crave to jump into rúben’s strong arms as soon as the portugese was in her sight, adrianna gave some space to the dias brothers to celebrate first. rúben had several times mentioned ivan and his cousin were two people that inspired him the most in regards to his professional career so she wouldn’t want to try to break the bond and respect that were shared between the two, and rúben swore he fell in love again once more when he realised the meaning behind her action.

as soon as rúben’s eyes diverted from ivan to her, adrianna didn’t hesitate to cut off the last remaining distance between them. and as soon as her head fitted under his palm and her legs hung around the back of his waist, rúben released the breath he didn’t know he was holding. at last, he muttered against her hair. who knew the smell of a shampoo could be so comforting?

at that moment, reality hit him. rúben dias had been too focused on chasing something—anything; trophies, titles, awards—that he forgot the meaning of home. and adrianna just handed it back on his plate.

it was so soothing how small she was in his arms, yet it felt like he had come back home. like he was holding his entire world in his embrace, and he couldn’t ask for anything else better, even if it meant that he had to undergo the whole failed proposal all over again.

“you’re here.”

“i am,”and there was the sound he’d been missing the most, clear as crystal. not the one he’d been hearing over the phone, through the endless video calls when he was about to sleep and she just woke up. “parabens, querido.”

“i must be dreaming,” rúbenhad to pull her closer to him—as if it was possible—to make sure she was here, in flesh and blood. “you can’t be real, you know? but i keep seeing you.”

adrianna pulled away from rúben’s lock around her, mirth glinted her eyes. “should i just go back to—”

“no,” rúben didn’t hold back as he kissed her. finally. her lips felt like the sweetest victory; for winning the title again, for waiting for her no matter how long it takes. and he devoured every last bit of it, slowly but sure, not wanting to miss any more detail. “you don’t know how long i’ve been praying to hold you like this again.”

“well, you got your wish,” rúben’s dropping bass tone to his voice sent shudders all over her body, both from the voice and the desperation that lingered behind his words. she kissed him once more to show she felt exactly the same and he hummed, as he felt her nipping his bottom lip. “happy birthday, benzinho. i hope you like your present because i don’t know what else to give you if you don’t like it.”

this time, rúben was the one who pulled away first, confusion written all over his face. “what, you think i’m not going to like it?”

“well, look around you, rúben,” adrianna casted a glance everywhere else but him, awkward and so unlike of her. “i can’t possibly compare to—”

“you’re the best thing i could ever ask for, gatinha,” rúben moved up his hands from her waist to cup her face, the sharp jawline contrasted the soft glimmer in the beautiful eyes he loved. “doesn’t matter if it happens on my birthday this year, next year, next decade—i want you and i will always ask for you until the day comes. you’re the reason i start looking forward for tomorrow, knowing you’re awake already when i wake up, and you’re the reason i want to be better everyday so that one day, when the day comes, i can be the man that deserves you entirely.”

“rúben—”

before adrianna could say anything else that described the way his words swayed her world, rúben closed the vacant space between their lips, effectively shutting her up. “i don’t know what’s that pretty mind of yours have been thinking but te amo, meu amor. you’re my love and my life, meu anjo, and i don’t want it any other way.”

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oraclekleo · 1 year ago

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[Interactive Stories] Painting - Part 01

Lee Soo Hyuk Story

Painting

(Lee Soo Hyuk Story)

Part 01

Lee Soo Hyuk was standing in front of a painting in a gallery. Initially, this was only one of many similar events he was getting invitations to every week. He got himself smartly dressed and arrived at vernissage, struck poses for photographers and spent an hour or two looking at art pieces he would never ever put on display in his own home.

This evening was exactly the same until he spotted this one painting. It caught his attention immediately and he couldn’t look away from it. He was fully immersed in the scene it depicted, observing each tiny detail, discovering something new every minute. The painting looked nearly as realistic as a photograph, only certain aspects were clearly done by the hand of the artist. It depicted a young woman sitting on some sofa, her naked back exposed to the artist, her face turned so she was looking right at the audience. Her right arm was loosely placed on the sofa, exposing the wrist. Hyuk probably wouldn’t notice such a woman if he met her on a street but in this picture… It was a powerful and heartstopping image.

The woman was barely more than skin and bones, her back suffered severe burns a long time ago, her wrist carried marks of razor cuts. Two fingers on her hand seemed weirdly crooked as if they were broken and the bones healed in a wrong way. There were cigarette burn marks on her arms and legs. But the most disturbing was a scar on her neck. It looked as if someone slit her throat with a knife but the wound pulled together and only left a nasty scar there instead of killing her. The woman had the face of a broken angel. Her eyes were baby blue but there was so much pain and sadness in them. Hyuk felt as if his own heart started to bleed for this poor person who clearly suffered way too much.

He closed his eyes in an attempt to detach from the image but it remained in his mind. He opened eyes again only to see the eyes of the woman on the painting. Her lips remained pressed but Hyuk could hear her call for help in his mind. He gulped with difficulties and stepped a bit closer to the painting to read the description. It said that it’s the last work of a now deceased author. He died before finishing it, the painting wasn’t even given a name. The model was an unknown woman. Hyuk felt an unexpected stab of disappointment. For some reason he wanted to know her name or at least have a clue who she might be. Is she still alive? Is she feeling better now? Does she have the kind of care she needs? Author died, the painting had no name, the woman was unknown. Hyuk had no leads to follow at the moment.

“It’s an impressive piece, isn’t it?”

Hyuk turned to the woman standing next to him. She was the owner of this gallery. She surely noticed his interest and spotted an opportunity to do some business here.

“It emits a lot of sorrow and pain.” Hyuk said and had to turn back to the painting as if the model was demanding his attention.

“She must have been beautiful before all that happened.” The gallery owner mentioned, clearly referring to all those scars.

“I think she is beautiful. She endured such torment…” Hyuk stopped and had to blink quickly. He was never an overly emotional person but this painting was just too much for his self composure.

“You’re not the only one who thinks so. I have received offers from two potential buyers already.”

Hyuk blinked slowly. She was clearly bluffing… but what if it’s true? What if some creep buys this painting to hang it in their living room and let all their guests ogle the pain and suffering of a woman in the picture?

Check out Lee Soo Hyuk tarot readings:

Lee Soo Hyuk Kinky* Reading

Lee Soo Hyuk Relationship Role

Lee Soo Hyuk Ideal Partner

Lee Soo Hyuk - Love is a Battlefield

Lee Soo Hyuk - Shadow of the Moon

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fostercare-expat · 8 months ago

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Social worker updated that the official decision is that both boys will stay in care, not return home. No surprise there.

The case will now be transferred from Investigation to Intervention. Mom and Boyfriend will be required to attend counselling from a domestic violence centre and the boys will start attending therapy. No surprises there. I could have told you that on Day 2. No need for 2.5 months to figure that out.

I asked for a timeline and she said it will likely be another month before the new social worker in the Intervention department is assigned and then only then will they talk to Mom and boyfriend about the plan. The other foster family and I both want to hear what Mom’s attitude will be and if she says she wants to do the work to get the boys back home or if she says she is ok with them staying in the foster care system. Because the other family doesn’t want to be a long term placement for Older Brother and they figure if the plan is to him to stay in the system long term, that he may as well go to a group home now. But they might be willing to do another 6 months. We asked the current social worker how long she thinks the Intervention phase will be and she said realistically a year but ideally 6 months. But everyone is stuck in a holding pattern for another month until the new social worker is assigned. I don’t even think the therapy can start yet. But the good news is that Younger Brother is a cutie awesome kid with a delightful sense of humour who runs into my arms every day when I come home from work and loves swimming in the pool and hang out with my Younger Daughter and all her friends. Yes, parenting is stressful but he deserves it and I’m capable of doing it for another year if needed. I don’t know that I’m capable of parenting Older Brother for another year, but I definitely can do Younger Brother.

In other news, my former husband was flipping out yesterday about a loan I gave my helper from our shared money. He already knew about the loan several weeks ago and even said at the time to make sure if she needs more money that she ask us for more instead of going to loan sharks. He’s confused about how much she has borrowed vs been paid so I spent 30 minutes making him a spreadsheet on Excel because he has a degree in Finance and that’s his sort of thing. He was flipping out so much that he couldn’t even understand the spreadsheet. He kept shouting at me on the phone and I was calmly asking him not to speak to me that way and I will explain it to him, and he would apologise and take a few breaths to calm down but then a few exchanges he was back to yelling at me. He’s generally not someone who yells. I’ve known him 19 years and he’s yelled more in the last year than he has in the past 18 years. Yesterday his behaviour was so irrational that I came to several realisations:

1) Generally I say that he and I get along very well. That is not the case lately.

2) His behaviour is connected to his stress about starting a business and about money. But it’s being reflected towards me and it’s irrational. I don’t need to spend a lot of time and effort accommodating his irrational demands around 10 year old boys potentially abusing his daughters or get scolded about our shared money when I literally already asked his permission in writing.

3) For the time being, I need to just shift him to a smaller corner of my life and let him fight a battle against his own demons without letting it leak over to me. I don’t need to co-parent as closely as I have been. I won’t make any dramatic announcements about it. I’ll just communicate way less and pay less attention to the irrational stuff.

4) I’ve gently warned the girls that Daddy is having a stressful time and he might be miserable to be around sometimes and they can talk to me about anything and I’ll help. (He would never hit them, I’m confident in that. But he might shout a lot or stomp out of the house or generally lose it in front of them, which would be scary for them.)

5) He will return to his normal self eventually. He normally treats me with kindness and respect, even for most of the 7 years we have been broken up. I’ll be patient, with some healthy boundaries, and this will pass. He did apologise several times on the phone yesterday. So he’s aware that he’s losing it. And he says he’s going to therapy. He’s just struggling and I have the benefit of not needing you getting sucked into it.

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the-bjd-community-confess · 3 months ago

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There’s something about begging people to share and buy your dolls/products because you’ll need to pay for certain things like food, rent, etc that’s just so icky when it’s followed by “no one else is making any money, so it falls on me to pay” kind of language and the doll artist has already been under scrutiny for not using the money from the orders to fulfill the orders before spending all of the money on some non business related expense.

I understand having costs to cover (we all do) but the bizarre transparency of “buy my doll so I can restock my fridge” when there’s absolutely no guarantee of how or when they’re going to fulfill an order because this is now theira only revenue stream and in this specific case I’m referring to, a hurricane has knocked out power for who knows how long which makes guaranteeing a product (if at all) in a reasonable time frame kind of ridiculous to me.

I lived through devastating hurricanes and snow storms that meant no power for a week plus and possible very costly damage to my home (on two separate occasions I’ve had to leave my home and stay somewhere else because I live on the shoreline and it was a possibility that my house would be gone or irreparably damaged) so I have all the sympathy for the stress, cost, and danger of being in a hurricane, but sometimes I feel like she will stop at nothing to find some reason to beg/guilt people to buy her stuff and what else, to make risky financial decisions with other people’s money.

I suspect that if people order from her this time it’ll be a long wait and that she��ll once again have to ask for more orders to cover the cost of other people’s order fulfillment because she makes it very clear that she only asks for orders in order to spend all the money on living costs (and sometimes on presents for herself or ways to treat herself) and she hasn’t seemed to learn that the bulk of the cost of an item should be spent or saved primarily to afford to make, pack, and ship the item plus whatever other operating costs. Coming from a business owner, it’s never charging $200 to make $200, it’s more like charge $200 and spend $70 to make and ship the items, keep $50 to pay operating costs/taxes, and then you have $80 to spend on the costs of living and whatever else you can stretch it for, and realistically in America you owe tons of taxes for owning your own business (if you’re not operating illegally) and those taxes eat into a bulk of your profits. Nothing is ever free money and it frustrates me to see people beg for money through sales like “I’m short on rent by $200 this month, please buy two more $100 items and I can pay rent” when that’s not how it works. And worse, I just hate the scammy guilt tripping. My business is my only source of income and sometimes I don’t make what I need, but I would never ask someone to buy more stuff from me so that I can eat or something because wtf why would you put that on someone else who’s just trying to go about their day? It’s so gross and just bad business practice.

~Anonymous

#BJD #ABJD #BJD Confessions #Community Confessions #BJD Artists

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genshinemblem564 · 1 year ago

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Genshin Roommates

Isekai'd reader being roommates with different characters. Whether this is sagau or a normal isekai is left to interpretation.

CW: Hu Tao's segment contains religious trauma, slight mentions of "x reader" ( I know some people don't like that ), and dark humor

Kaveh

• Kaveh was thrilled when you invited him to stay at your place. Finally, no more Al Haitham ruining his day before it even starts.

• You may not be an interior designer, but your aesthetic sense was still something he appreciated,as his former housemate would just put anything anywhere if it wasn't work related. If you ask him for advice, he'll gladly give you any pointers you need.

• Kaveh truly appreciates your views on things. If he asks for advice, you recall the tech used in your world, even pulling out your phone to demonstrate. He asks if he could take a look at it, and is disappointed when you refuse, but understands as it is your only one.

• Meeting you was like Kaveh's prayers were answered. A roommate with some aesthetic sense, who is both an optimist and a realist, and being from another world with such advanced tech makes you the perfect partner in his endeavor to help people. He may be getting a bit obsessed, but that's just because he spent so long with someone he couldn't stand, that should remedy itself in time.

Hu Tao

• Hu Tao took you in when you first arrived here, and she's been having the time of her life ever since.

• You share her views somewhat. You don't see death as something to be feared, but due to the fear mongering that certain religions back home did, you still feared what came after. Hu Tao does her best to remedy this without exposing you to spirits as she's not quite sure how you'd react to them.

• Hu Tao was happy that you weren't a stick in the mud in terms of humor. You were serious when necessary, such as telling her to tone it down on advertisements, but when she had a good one, you'd say something cute like " Now that's a deal to die for." There were times she was caught off guard by your humor, such as when prepping a body of a burn victim for burial, you ended up saying " Looks like someone couldn't take the heat." and she looks at you with a face that screams " You did not just say that." (The exact emotion she expresses is up to you.)

• You two have come dangerously close to starting a romantic relationship, not out of any romantic feelings, but you're both so starved of affection that you have to actively refuse your instincts to keep from going beyond a simple hug.

• You don't scare as easily as everyone else in Liyue. When Hu Tao asks why, you simply pull out your phone and show her a video of a field. She was confused but kept watching, the next thing she knew, she was on the floor as the calming sounds of the field were interrupted by a pale woman's blood curdling screech. You had to comfort her afterwards, she wasn't crying or hurt, but that doesn't mean her heart didn't nearly burst out of her chest.

Ayato, Ayaka, and Thoma

• Given that they all live in the same household, it's kinda hard to write for one and not the others.

• Thoma was the one to bring you to the estate. Upon hearing the details, Ayaka wants to take you in, but Ayato would not tolerate freeloaders, so you help out around the estate. While you are compensated for the work you do, you aren't a servant since you don't take orders and aren't assigned the tasks you do.

• Thoma is like an older brother to you when you move in. Anything you want to learn from tea brewing to gardening, he's happy to teach you.

• Your reaction to being taken in by a prestigious clan gave Ayaka the impression that you were like everyone else, but she gets proven wrong in one of your conversations where you state that she's only human and no one is perfect. You tell her if she wants to be more lax around you, that you won't judge her. This might be the first time that she's happy to have been wrong.

• Ayato is always busy with commission work, so you never really get the chance to speak with him unless the Kamisato clan is hosting an event, but these events tend to be formal, so you usually stay out of sight. You're not too keen on meeting any corrupt shogunate, and you're afraid to make a fool of yourself in front of the ones you aren't wary of, mostly because you don't want to drag Ayato's reputation down with you.

• Thoma enjoys the simpler things, so the thing about your home that's going to interest him is most likely the food. For example, I haven't heard one person in Teyvat bring up strawberries. He wants to try cooking the recipes you show him, again on your phone, right away to see if his lord and lady would like them.

• Ayaka is another enjoyer of the simpler things, but she is more intrigued by your worlds culture, more specifically, the festivities, traditions, and holidays. She adores the idea of Christmas, the exchanging of gifts is a delightful idea to her, she finds the outfits rather cute, she also wishes she could try one on, she turns into a blushing mess when you explain the tradition about mistletoe, you decided to omit Santa Claus, the children's tale not Saint Nick, from your explanation, as while he does exist in some worlds, you're not sure if Teyvat is one of them, best not to get her too excited.

• Ever since you showed up, Ayato has noted how you're becoming more and more like Thoma, taking a mediator position to lessen any burden it may be giving the siblings, making tea after working hours are done with, and even training to protect the people who helped you. At this point, your origin doesn't matter to him, you're someone he can put his trust in. That said, he has to wonder, did you have a family back home, and how are they faring in your absence? No matter how much he has come to respect and trust you, if you ever had the chance to return home, he would urge you to do so.

___________________________________________

Note: This was highly self-indulgent and is more for writing practice, so some constructive criticism would be appreciated if you have any.

#genshin impact #genshin headcanons #genshin imagines #kaveh #genshin kaveh #genshin impact kaveh #hu tao #hu tao genshin impact #kamisato ayato #kamisato ayaka #genshin ayato #ayaka genshin impact #genshin ayaka #thoma #thoma genshin #genshin impact thoma

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tryslora · 1 year ago

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ND Creative: Time, Focus, Organization

Time, focus, and organization can be complicated things as an ND creative.

Objectively, I know what I need to do. I know all the steps. I even know that in order to get it done, I have to list out all of those steps, note how long each will take and their dependencies, then reorganize them into a timeline.

Then I stare at the screen, or the piece of paper, and my brain just stops. Says nope. Hits the mental and emotional back button to get the hell out of that mode.

Makes it kind of hard to get anything done.

I’m currently struggling with this exact thing on multiple levels. Why am I blogging about it? Well, I’m hoping that if I talk about the places where I’m stuck, maybe I’ll become unstuck.

Oh, the funny ways we try to trick our minds, yeah?

Big List Things I Need to Do:

Publishing stuff with DPP (timeline not under my control)

Publishing stuff for independent book (oh hey, a release date would be nice and I’m the one who has to set that)

Plotting and outlining the next PHU novel (is it over a year overdue? I’m sure no one noticed…)

Plotting and outlining the next 7Lakes novel (because when the first one comes out, “where’s the sequel” will hopefully be the obvious first question)

There are a million other things on my list in various sizes from small through medium and even large, but none quite as unwieldy as all of those.

I’ve been blocked on these timelines—both for publishing and for plotting—for a long, long time. I feel like I’m trying to do too many things at once, or attacking things on too many fronts. I worry about well, what if one thing overlaps with another—are the people who want to read my work going to be like “nah, I can’t buy two books” and just nope out of everything? Am I screwing it all up?

I keep telling myself I need to let go and just Do The Thing.

Seriously.

Do The Thing.

So, let’s break down what needs to be done at the highest of levels for the writing-related things (and ignore all the blog posts, TikToks, video editing, etc that also needs to be done).

For publishing with DPP, there is: 2nd edit on book 2, large revision on book 3 before it goes to first real edit, then 2nd edit on book 3, and final edits on all of that. Plus cover reveals, blog posts, teasers. Pulling out quotes I want to use for stickers. I am pretty sure I’m forgetting things. The nice thing is that all of the big overhead things like planning a campaign has been done for me. YAY Duck Prints (Seriously, they are AWESOME). I think my sticking point here is that I have no realistic expectation for how long each editing round will (or should) take, so I’m not sure how to slot it in. Plus I know it’ll be overlapping with the other book.

For solo (independent) publishing, I have so much more to do. I have to create accounts with both the private and public profile information that’s required on publishing platforms. I need to create a logo and develop a description of my “publishing company” (me, it’s just me) and I need to business work for that company, like buying ISBNs. I need to finish the final book editing, then do the layout so I know what the spine width is. Then I can contract for and get a cover. After that it should get easier, right? Pull out quotes, do blog posts, cover reveal, announcement of the release date (probably not in that order). Get the news out. I can set a release date once I get everything else on a calendar. And if the bulk of the editing is done sooner rather than later, my editing energy can be spent on the DPP books while I’m doing production and marketing for the 7Lakes book.

Okay. This all starts to feel like something I can get my arms around. I’m going to let the high level/low level plotting go for now, and come back to it in another post.

So—why is this a blog post anyway?

I mentioned before that I was trying to unstick my mind. By talking out loud to someone else—even though I can’t see that someone, and who knows, maybe I’m shouting into the abyss—I feel like I’m being held accountable. I’m working through it in public. In plain sight. It means I have to keep putting one foot in front of the other, considering every word. It has to get out of my fingertips and onto the page because I am here, not just trying to make notes privately for myself.

I can’t back button out of it.

Sometimes that’s how I get things done.

Will this translate to me taking the things I’ve said above and moving them into something where I can add timeframes, and schedules, and put it all on a calendar with due dates and start breaking it down into even smaller tasks?

Gods I hope so. It’s a goal, anyway.

Getting back to where we started… time, focus, and organization can be complicated as an ND creative.

Time—I spent thirty minutes and a thousand words of chatter.

Focus—It’s like body doubling—by talking to you, I got something done.

Organization—I think I have a list. Or a start of one. It’s more than I had!

It’s a complicated way of doing things, but fingers crossed that my next step is getting to cross off the first part of my timelines task.

#writing #neurodivergent #nd creative #nd series

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marengogo · 2 years ago

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Silver Lining - What If #3 : For A Dreaded, but Inevitable, Separation

Who (feat. BTS) - by Lauv feat. BTS JK&JM [~ how i’m feeling~]

[Music is a very big part of my life and I’m MOSTLY INCAPABLE of writing without music, so I just thought I'd share what I am listening to while writing this]

–🐺–🐺–🐺–

My Dear Ladies, Gentlemen, and Distinguished Enbies, how are you all?Let me tell you, I’m in a rather poetically-nostalgically romantic mood. Could it be because of FESTA? Or maybe PRIDE MONTH? I don’t really know. All I know is that LOVE IS IN THE AIR and is not the type where animated birds are singing along with you while you bust out in a colourful choreographed rendition of 🎵You Make My Dreams Come True🎶[500 Days of Summer]. No. It’s more like the kind where you have a secret lover in a period of time preceding a looming world-war that nobody sees coming and the way you communicate with your lover is through letters, one of which ends up in the hands of a very naive child [Atonement]. Hence, as a natural consequence, I started thinking about Jikook.

Supposing Jikook are a couple, I can’t preface this fact hard enough I would imagine that the prospect of soon having to be separated for at least 2 years (As realistically speaking they would be enlisting months a part) isn’t the most delightful 🤡. Wanna be a little delulu together? Cool, let’s step into Delululand for a minute or the entire post, let’s see …. Situation:

Person A, who claims to be sleepy, starts a whole Wlive where for a good 50 minutes at least, while not really interacting with his fans, watches a program where Person B appears. He then goes on to watch Person B’s MVs, Person B’s dance practice, a compilation of Person B’s clips, Person B’s TikTok challenge (on youtube). He goes even as far as to reveal that he has watched, on his own time, more of Person B’s content.

At the end of all of that, Person A starts playing a japanese longing-love song [Tele　phon number by Junko Ohashi], which is abruptly changed for a song which main chorus is 🎵... thoughts of you keep me up at night …🎶 [Up at Night by Kehlani]

In Summary: Though sleepy, Person A spent the night watching videos of PERSON B and subsequently repeatedly played a song about being kept awake because of thoughts of someone … Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm 🤔.

Doesn’t seem too farfetched to think that perhaps JK was indeed thinking of JM, right? One could even dare say missing, and if you want to be even bolder, one could say that he was longing. As the title of the WLIVE was “Suchwita” the intention was clearly set, but some could argue that choice of songs was simply because he likes Kehlani and Justin, hence he thought of playing that song; repeatedly. Sure, that could be true, however, it is more of a common practice to select music that, yes we like, but that also have to fit certain moods.

Every time JK starts a WLIVE we are graced with listening to songs he selects, perhaps from his “liked playlist”, meaning that they are not in a particular order or with a particular theme, reason why he often skips songs depending on the mood with which he started the live. We’ve had a WLIVE with exotic/oriental songs, another with dance/party songs, and also with KPOP. Though he usually tends to go for sad songs, or love songs or better yet, sad love songs. Just like the mood-light he created and constantly uses, I don’t believe it to be outlandish to believe that JK is a mood man.

If you add the aforementioned with the fact that JK seems to be particularly active on WEVERSE when JM is either busy (for example during the whole FACE Era, where we got a whopping number of 7 WLIVES if you count all the times he closed and restarted WLIVE then it is 10) or not in the country (for example JK WLIVE 140323 - JM off to go to the USA for FACE promotion ; JK WLIVE 240423 - JM off to the USA for the Tiffany Gran Reopening ; JK WLIVE 240523 - JM off to the UK for reasons yet not known).

And now that JM is back: SILENCE.

In fact, both JM & JK are MIA. You’d think JK would have maybe popped in yesterday to let us know, or hint at the fact that, that something big is coming for himself, like all members have previously done for themselves. Nope; he didn’t. The only time JK has hinted at something big coming was about JM’s album. Media and BH had to let us know about JK’s album 🤡.

We’ve been saying this since BTS FESTA 2022 “it’s just 2 years”, “ we just have to make it until they get back from MS”, “We will be fine, let’s just support their individual endeavours, WE WILL BE FINE!”. Like a mantra, we’ve been reciting these and similar sentence for almost a good year now, and only yesterday when I started writing this post did it REALLY dawn on me the true heaviness of this upcoming separation. If Jikook are really dating, they are realistically looking at spending at least 24 months apart, as they would not be enlisting at the same time (reason why, I think JK is leaving in the order I stated here → Must Be Just Me … and not last).

If you knew that in a couple of months or so (I think JM will enlist right after his birthday) you wouldn’t be able to see the one you loved for a long ass-time, as well as about to lose your own freedom, what would you do? Would you stress? Would you try not thinking about it? Would you panic? Would you, for example, go out and try every single meat restaurant in your country? Would you try drinking? Smoking? Would you travel as much as you can? Would you go to as many concerts as you can? Hang out with as many people you love/like/care about as you can? But ultimately, would you try to spend every possible & available waking second you can have with your significant other?

Sure they can text, find a way to risk it and meet when they are on leave, or count on the other members to have dinners together, but no matter how you look at it, for two young men who seem to truly enjoy each other’s company; it feels hella painful.

Thinking this really made me first want to watch a bunch of agonising love stories, but then I quickly avoided that option for Jikook lives in hotel rooms and then something happened. As I watched the famous 2019 VLIVE where JM apologises to JK for cutting the live, it hit me like lighting:

EVER SINCE JK TURNED OF AGE (2016), JIKOOK HAVE NEVER HAD A VLIVE/WLIVE IN A HOTEL BEDROOM WHERE IT WAS JUST THE TWO OF THEM FROM START TO FINISH.

Now, as these are just my observations and opinions, I might be wrong, and if you do know of one instance where they do, please let me know. Anyways, you can’t imagine how loud my brain exploded at this realisation! Prior to this I always felt like I had all these recollection of them being together in hotels so many times but it was all either:

Already with other members

Other members would join

Bon voyage 1: They “sleep” in the living room

Bon voyage 2: They share a room but we have no footage

Summer Package - Saipan: They walk into the same room and JM leaves right away

In the soop 1: JK quickly goes into JM's room to cuddle in bed with JM, but leaves just as quickly. JM was at some point in JK’s bedroom, and on his bed, but then, the next we know, they are carrying out a mosquito net and JM gets hurt.

In the soop 2: JK goes to JM’s bedroom but we have no footage. JM goes to JK’s cabin, enters JK’s bedroom, sits on JK’s bed, but JK stays out of it which is the only reason why we got that whole footage with Bam if you ask me.

… But shall we go even further into Delululand?

Have you ever wondered why JK and JM never roomed together in any of the houses they lived in when they were all still living together? JM, as we all know, has roomed with Hobi and at some point, JiVMin (Hobi, Tae and JM) also shared a room. JK used to room with Joon and then ended up getting a room for himself, which was his (and Tae’s) desire. And yet mind you:

JK got his room alone, but was apparently always in JM and Hobi’s room

When during Bring The Soul JM told JK during dinner that he wished he they still paired them up in hotels, JK said that he was fine as he was and slept like a baby, just to find out a couple of years later that JK does visit JM’s hotel room often.

Obviously, I don’t know why two of the closest member have never roomed together within the confines of their dorms, but if you ask me, it has always given me the vibes of when you’ve hit puberty and you invite a someone of your preferred gender over to maybe “do homework” and a parent goes: Just keep the door open … 🙄

So, JK and JM have never roomed together, where never publicly left alone in a hotel room after 2016, are quick not to be found in a bedroom together or if they are, there is no footage.

If you think about ... we really don't have much to go off on in the "fanservice department" AND YET, they are the members that Joon found were still at home when they were supposed to go home and celebrate holidays. They are the members who went on a trip together. They are the members who sasaengs have provided innumerable pictures of them hanging out. They are the two members who, for a long time up until COVID would regularly share a care ride. Sure, they may not talk about each other as much as they used to, they don’t drop each other’s name like they used to, even though people around them still seem to insert them in sentences as “JK and JM did so-and-so …”. They are so consistent on their behavioural, and emotional, level.

The few times we’ve seen them interact since the beginning of Chapter 2, is like no time has passed, even when they both try really hard to imply or avoid the question of them hanging out. All we truly have right at this moment, are two young men, who assuming they are dating when not required to perform any public, or work, duty seem to fall off the face of the Earth. Silently and privately doing whatever-it-is they are doing while perhaps awaiting for the day they can no longer do whatever-it-is that they are doing, for a very very very long time. Very very long time.

And now quickly! OUT OF DELULULAND and off to the movies to go what AGUST D IN JAPAN 🖤!

Always respectfully yours,

Marengo.

#Marengo's Silver World #A quick trip to Delululand #Jikook

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pure-garbage · 5 months ago

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Widening Rifts! Farewell, Harbinger Of Freedom!

It didn't escape Zoro's notice that Lana had been silent for a long time. As a matter of fact, she hadn't said a word since Usopp and Luffy's fight. Not when they packed their things and left the ship. Not when they checked into a hotel in town. Not while she'd spent the entire night staring sleeplessly out a window at the city of water, draped in the velvet veil of night's silvery, silken darkness.

She held her silence as the others headed out the next day and remained quiet after Zoro declined to go with them to search for Robin or settle their business at the shipyard. Stoicism, Zoro could have respected, but the tenor of Lana's withdrawal struck him as closer to a sullen protest of all that had transpired.

He wasn't happy with it either, but moping wouldn't do any of them a bit of good.

"Lana."

She sat on the roof's edge, feet dangling nerve-wrackingly into the open air below. The breeze that fluttered through her hair set Zoro's teeth on edge with worry. The dark circles under her eyes were concerning. She seemed almost wraith-like, unspeaking and unmoving in the harsh daylight, eyes roving the streets below as if she might spot their missing friend from her high vantage.

"Come off the edge."

Zoro knew that realistically, Lana wouldn't be toppled by the wind, but the way it streamed past her still form was too discomfiting for him to watch without intervening. When she didn't move or speak, he considered going to her side, but in the end, didn't budge from the shade of the steeple. He didn't want to indulge her moodiness.

"Lana... tell me what you're thinking," he requested instead.

Lana loosed an heavy sigh, carefully weighing the words before she let them escape her lips. She wasn't the only one who'd been quiet after the fight, but her silence was the most intentional of all her crewmates, aside from perhaps Zoro. The infighting among the straw hats had been as revelatory as it was revolting. She knew things about her friends now that she never would have known before. She'd spent most of the night pondering the new information, the new light shed on Usopp's motivations, his love for the Merry and its roots with the girl who'd gifted them the ship in the east blue.

'I had no idea Usopp's connection with the Merry was so profound. I had no idea the ship being put out of commission would be upsetting enough to cause such a deep rift in the crew. Even someone as transparent and simple as Usopp was hiding so much complexity... What about Robin? What secrets is she hiding? What hidden desires, what unshared fears? Where is she? What's she doing now? Why, why, why would she leave without saying anything to anyone? Doesn't she care about any of us at all? Something horrible, terrible, must have happened to her... unless I don't know her that well after all. Like I didn't know Usopp as well as I thought I did. How well do I really know any of my friends?'

Zoro may have wanted to know what she was thinking, but Lana couldn't tell him. Not this time. She wouldn't let him be a party to her confusion, her despair. She knew he didn't want any part of it, despite asking her to share her thoughts.

'Who knows what he expects to hear? Probably not this mess. I can't let him know I'm such a mess right now. I shouldn't be such a mess right now... I need to get it together.'

"I'm done waiting around," she announced, jumping off the ledge back onto the rooftop. "Come on. Let's go find Robin."

"You go ahead. I'm gonna stay here a while and think," Zoro told her, just as he had Sanji and Chopper earlier.

"About what?"

"Everything."

"You can't think and walk at the same time?" Lana scoffed. "Let's go."

"I said no," Zoro reiterated, a harshness creeping in around the edges of the already stern words.

Lana refused to let herself flinch. She held his sharp gaze without wavering, swallowed any further protest. She left without another word.

Despite his insistence on remaining behind, Zoro eventually decided to take a walk. He did want to think, but far from wanting to stay still, he just wasn't interested in participating in a disorganized wild goose chase all throughout Water 7 to find a woman whose mysterious disappearance he already secretly suspected may not have been unwilling.

'Her devil fruit power is impressive. Short of her being taken by extreme force, I have a hard time believing she was kidnapped. The Franky family certainly didn't have what it would take to subdue her... and I can't imagine who else would want to try. Unless Aokiji caught up with us that quickly... his whims certainly seemed to change on a dime last time we crossed paths. If he decided to come for Robin, he could definitely have frozen her on the spot again... but if a navy admiral was spotted in the city, people would be talking about it. Chopper knows his scent and he's out sniffing up and down all these avenues with that cook. Probably not Aokiji. But if not, Aokiji, who? She never talked about her past. She never talked much at all. If she left of her own accord, why? Did Aokiji spook her? Right back to Aokiji again. Damned admiral...'

Zoro had been pondering in circles for hours and hours. He rubbed the back of his neck in frustration as he strolled along the canal. Whispers and sidelong glances interrupted his thoughts more effectively than a search effort for his missing crewmate would have.

'Huh... I don't remember drawing this many stares yesterday. Why the sudden surge of attention?'

"That's him!" a man yelled. "That's the pirate hunter Roronoa Zoro! He's part of the crew that tried to assassinate Iceburg!"

"He is? You're sure?!"

"Of course I'm sure! Just look, he's right here in the paper!"

"Aw crap," Zoro swore. He didn't fully understand what was happening, but he could tell the situation was a few seconds away from getting out of hand. He dashed off down an alley, shouting Water 7 citizens in hot pursuit.

__________________________________________

Lana didn't intend to return to the Going Merry. As she searched aimlessly for Robin, the meandering path her feet tread while her mind was preoccupied lead her back to the clandestine bay where the battered ship still rocked gently. She didn't realize it until she set eyes on the ship, but there was something still tying her to the vessel.

She got closer quietly, watching surreptitiously for any sign of Usopp. As much as she didn't want to run into him and deal with the scorn of his injured pride and the severed ties of their friendship, she realized that she had something she needed to say before the matter was closed.

"Last night was awful, huh?" she said quietly, gazing up at the ever-smiling ram figurehead that for the past year, she'd associated with home and family. "I was so upset over the fighting, so sad to see my friends hurt, I left without... I..."

'Zoro would yell at me if he saw me now. Talking to a pile of wood and nails like it can hear me.'

Despite the thought, Lana didn't feel silly. She knew it was probably foolish, but she felt like the ram was smiling down at her with compassion and understanding, like it was listening to what she had to say with patience and gratitude of its own.

"You mean a lot to me too, you know," she said, words so quiet they were almost a whisper. "Of all the ships I could have tried to make my escape on, you were the one that carried me away from my miserable old life. I hate that Usopp took everything too far, but he's not wrong about one thing, at least. You are more than wood and nails. I'm sure you mean something different to the others, but to me, you'll always be freedom. So thank you... for everything."

The Going Merry's smile was as unfaltering, as gentle as ever. Lana held her gaze for a moment longer, blinking back the tears pricking at the edges of her eyes. She wiped them away with her sleeve before they could fall, then turned away and raced back to the city to continue her search for Robin.

_______________________________________________________

<== Previous Chapter

Next Chapter ==>

== First Chapter ==

#one piece #fanfic #oc #roronoa zoro #sandbox adventures #pure garbage #nico robin #usopp #zoro

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frozenbound · 1 year ago

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Hello!!! Hope you are well. I’ve been enjoying reading your Shimadacest collection series and wanted to do a request!!! Could you do one with Genji/Cole. Cole and Hanzo are freshly married and hanzo takes him the to their estate. Introduces him to his family. There Genji offers to give Cole a tour. While Hanzo and his dad talk. Cole and Genji are in the other side of the estate where no one will hear them. Having hardcore primal sex all over the place. Marathoning in different rooms. Living rooms, balcony’s etc with lots of dirty talk without the other two knowing.

Again, love your work!!! Keep it up!!! 💖💖💖

Thanks so much for the request!! I love the idea of Cole "falling off the wagon" almost immediately, but it also took a little finagling to get him to agree, LOOOL, so this one's a little bit longer and more plot-heavy. I hope that's all right!

Thanks again so much for the request! Newlywed Cole cheating with Genji, coming right up under the Read More!

TW: cheating, infidelity

Cole whistled softly when Shimada Castle came into view. “Ho lee shit,” he breathed, looking through the car window as it started to make its way up the hillside, the lofty and beautiful lines of the fortress drawing his eye higher and higher. “Pictures don’t do it any justice, darling.”

“No,” Hanzo agreed with a smile as he watched his new husband’s face. “It must be seen to be truly appreciated.”

Cole squeezed Hanzo’s hand for what was probably the hundredth time since they had gotten into the car. Since the wedding they had only let go of each other maybe, oh, a dozen times or so, and only when absolutely necessary, which was quite the feat considering they had already completed the first half of their honeymoon, a perfect fourteen days spent on pristine beaches and lounging in the shade of palm trees and outdoor bars while completely lost in each other, the most picturesque way to complete their nuptials that Cole could ever have imagined.

Now it was time for the second half of their honeymoon…though whether it would even count as part of it was up for debate.

Technically, they were visiting Hanzo’s father and brother as a way to celebrate their wedding and to welcome Cole into the family.

Realistically, though, as Hanzo had mournfully informed Cole months ago when they had made their engagement public, this was an excuse for Hanzo’s father to try once again to re-engage Hanzo in the family business and, failing that, to at least pick his brain for ideas and advice.

There was a certain amount of pride that someone as intelligent and influential as Shimada Sojiro thought so highly of Hanzo, but unfortunately he tended to be somewhat…monopolizing.

If, if they agreed to visit, Hanzo had told Cole all those months ago, then Cole probably wouldn’t see Hanzo except at breakfast and dinner. No matter how much Hanzo insisted, Sojiro would fill up his time with business meetings and conferences and briefings that would keep Hanzo occupied literally from the crack of dawn until long after sunset.

It was Cole who had insisted they go anyway. This was simply Sojiro’s way of interacting and connecting with his eldest child, and Hanzo couldn’t hide the fact that he enjoyed the time he spent with his father…in small-enough doses. Hanzo had moved to the other side of the planet to be sure of those small doses, far enough away that even someone of Sojiro’s stature couldn’t dictate Hanzo’s every move, allowing father and son to continue building their empire together without completely suffocating Hanzo, and allowing Hanzo to socialize in a way that hadn’t been possible while he had been growing up and educated in Japan. If he hadn't moved away, he might never have even found himself a charming, handsome husband.

But it was clear from Sojiro's frequent calls and letters and emails that he missed his eldest son.

Going back for what would, for Hanzo, amount to two weeks of non-stop work wasn’t the way either Hanzo or Cole would have chosen to mark the occasion of their wedding with Hanzo’s side of the family, but that was simply Sojiro’s way and nothing would change that.

And despite it all, Hanzo was excited that Cole would be free to experience and explore his new husband’s old stomping grounds, and he wouldn’t even have to do it alone: Hanzo’s younger brother would be his personal tour guide.

It wasn’t perfect, but it was a small price to pay.

As their chauffeur…their chauffeur, and wasn’t that a sign of how far Cole had married up? As their chauffeur gently drove the hover car through the castle gates and came to a stop in front of…more castle gates…and got out and opened the door for the newlyweds to step out, Cole took in a breath of cherry blossoms and squeezed Hanzo’s hand. “Beautiful,” he said with a smile. “And the trees and the castle don’t look half bad, neither.”

Hanzo rolled his eyes but smiled back. “It takes one to know one,” he said with a knowing look that bordered on leering, and Cole’s heart swelled with both affection and pride; he’d half-expected Hanzo to clam up and turn into a frigid, stressed-out prune not unlike what he’d been when they first met, but it seemed that with Cole at his side, nothing could touch the good humor that had always been lurking below the surface, waiting for someone handsome and tall and charming to draw it out.

Cole was so relieved that he nearly leaned down and kissed Hanzo, and then pressed him down to the ground, and then tore open his shirt, and began licking his way down his chest right there.

But no, they weren’t on private tropical beaches anymore.

So Cole would just have to tear his eyes away from the stunningly attractive face of his husband and will away his erection…

…for the next two weeks.

That was the only really unfair part of this trip; Hanzo was sure to be exhausted from both fending off his father’s attempts to get him to “come home” that both he and Cole had been sure he wouldn’t be up for anything the least bit sexual until they flew home.

It was unfair that their honeymoon would ironically result in their longest stretch of celibacy since they’d met, but that was precisely why there’d been a “part one”: that had been the time to fuck each other silly, in an attempt to drain themselves so completely of all carnal desire that it would take the full two weeks for it to build up again.

Unfortunately, for Cole at least, the effect had been exactly the opposite.

It had taken all his strength not to roll up the partition between them and the chauffeur in the car and blow Hanzo right there and then in the backseat.

It was taking everything he had not to whisk Hanzo through the door of what looked like a garden shed and lay him down on the ground and sit on his dick.

It was taking all he had to will away the hard and pulsing and, to his increasingly paranoid mind, completely obvious bulge in his trousers as they followed the chauffeur through the gardens to the main entrance of the castle.

But, obvious or not, Cole had to forget about his erection when his new father-in-law came striding out to meet them.

“Hanzo!” he called out, smiling wide.

Cole swallowed.

Shimada Sojiro was a gray-haired near-copy of his husband, with a fuller beard and darker eyes, but no less broad, no less attractive, and no less magnetic and charismatic.

Fuck, but there were some unholy thoughts going through Cole’s mind as father and son first bowed formally to each other, then walked forward and embraced.

“Father,” Hanzo said with genuine affection, “it’s good to see you in person.”

“Likewise,” Sojiro said, beaming as stunningly as Hanzo always did. “It’s been far too long since I chased you away…but look who you found!” he said with no sign whatsoever of disapproval as he turned towards Cole. “An actual, honest-to-goodness, and unfairly attractive cowboy! So you’re the man who’s stolen my son's heart and kept him away from home,” he said without a trace of malice, his eyes sparkling.

“Uh, yes sir,” Cole said, a little thrown. “That’d be me, sir. Can’t say that I’m sorry, though, begging your pardon.”

“Oh, I’m not, either,” Sojiro said warmly, taking Cole’s hand and shaking it warmly. “Do you know what I call you? My fifty-billion-dollar son-in-law. That’s how much Hanzo’s bringing in from the North American market, and who knows if he would’ve stayed over there long enough to make the necessary connections without such a good-looking boyfriend…husband!...to keep him there.”

Cole inwardly shook his head. This was his father-in-law, and nothing was going to change that.

“Speaking of which,” Sojiro continued, letting go of Cole’s hand and looking back at Hanzo, “I wanted to discuss the direction of our Canadian subsidiary with you.”

Hanzo and Cole exchanged a knowing look. Not even one foot in the door and Sojiro was bringing up business, as they had predicted. “Alright, Father,” Hanzo replied, turning halfway. “We can start discussing it on the way to the office.”

“Oh no,” came the surprising reply. “I’m taking off two weeks from the office. Not as long as you two are here.”

Hanzo’s eyebrows rose up in surprise.

“We can talk with everyone there just as easily from my home office.”

And his eyebrows lowered again with a bit of self-directed chagrin, though Cole had been equally taken in by the sudden and wild hope that Sojiro had miraculously learned to keep family and work separate…but that was clearly not the case as Sojiro took Hanzo by the shoulder and started shepherding him inside, saying, “I brought all the files we need, and I’m sure Haneda can bring over anything more we need while we talk about opening a new regional office in Montreal to take the pressure off of the Toronto branch so they can focus on…”

“Hi. I’m Genji.”

Cole started as another hand landed on his shoulder and he turned to see Hanzo’s brother.

Jesus H. Christ, he thought distantly.

The castle wasn’t the only one that looked much better in person.

“Hey there,” Cole said, inwardly shrieking at his sudden breathlessness. Summoning some propriety, he smiled and said, “Nice to meet you in the flesh at long last, Genji. I’m Cole.”

“Likewise,” Genji said, and Cole felt a tremor run through him when he registered the definite…purring…undertone of his words. “Hey, Hanzo!” Genji called over to the retreating backs of Hanzo and Sojiro as they headed for a stairway.

Hanzo looked over his shoulder and his expression brightened. “Genji!” he called back. “Good to see you! I’m sure Father will let us talk more in a little while.”

“Without a doubt!” Genji said, laughing. “I’ll take care of your husband in the meantime!”

“Please, and thank you!” was all Hanzo managed to say before he and his father disappeared up the stairs.

“You’ll have to forgive Dad,” Genji said, shaking his head with a smile. “Once he gets into business-mode, nothing can stop him.”

“I already have,” Cole said boldly, but still looking after Hanzo and feeling a bit wistful at this early demonstration of how the next two weeks would go. “Wouldn’t have come unless I had.”

“How magnanimous of you,” Genji said with a lopsided smile…as his eyes traveled up and down Cole’s figure. “Come on. Let me give you a quick tour. I’m sure Haneda has already taken care of your luggage.”

Genji flung an arm over Cole’s shoulders and tugged him into a brisk walk.

Cole swallowed.

Hanzo’s brother was…

Very warm as he pressed against his side.

And very hard with muscle.

And very handsome as Cole kept glancing at his profile so close alongside his own.

And Cole was very hard.

It seemed that Shimada men were apparently just able to press the button of Cole’s arousal effortlessly.

Genji was speaking, Cole realized, and he tried to refocus his thoughts to pay some actual attention to the words coming out of that pretty, shapely mouth.

“...will tell you the entire history of this place, but I sure can’t,” Genji was saying with another laugh. “I think most of the stuff here is three hundred plus years old, but don’t quote me on that. Over here, though, is probably the best part of the castle: the main balcony that overlooks the city and Mt. Fuji, right through here.”

They walked through a doorway onto a “balcony” that was the size of a small house, and the cityscape of Hanamura surrounding the snowbound peak of Mt. Fuji in the middle-distance was simply astounding. Cole felt his mouth drop open at the sight as Genji led him up to the railing as he took it all in.

“Pretty good, right?” Genji asked with immense self-satisfaction, as though he himself had prepared it all. “This is where I take all my conquests. Doesn’t matter what time of day it is; everyone likes to be fucked while taking in this incredible view.”

Cole blinked.

Genji was pressing himself more firmly to his side and…and he had…turned somewhat.

To press his hardness against Cole’s hip. Just a little.

While looking up at Cole’s face with a shameless grin.

Cole swallowed.

“I’m…Hanzo’s…”

“You’re not going to even see Hanzo for two weeks, I guarantee it,” Genji said baldly, tilting his hips forward slightly to rub his erection against Cole. “So, while he’s busy, we can get busy.”

Cole, to his horror and immense arousal, licked his lips and managed to choke out, “D…did Hanzo…ask you…”

Genji burst out laughing. “Of course not!” he all but howled, doubling over as far as he could without taking his arm off Cole’s shoulders. “Of course not! But I’m here, and he’s not, so I’m offering. And you,” he said, cutting off his laughter and speaking in a sly tone, “are clearly interested.”

He was addressing Cole’s own erection, bulging prominently in his trousers, much too close to Genji’s face for comfort as he almost literally hung off Cole’s shoulders.

Cole licked his lips again.

This had to be a trick, a test of loyalty of some kind. Hanzo had been blunt when describing Genji’s character, so Cole had been expecting a certain level of shamelessness from the Shimada’s resident playboy, left to pursue his every wanton desire while his father and brother ran the family empire, but this was…Genji couldn’t be this wanton. He had to be testing Cole, and if Cole acquiesced, Genji would run to his brother and tell him that he’d married a disloyal horndog who couldn’t even stop himself from sleeping with his brother-in-law during their honeymoon.

“I swear,” Genji whispered, and Cole could hear him lick his own lips, “I swear, on my life, that this will stay between us, my dear brother-in-law. This isn’t the only time I've wanted a taste of someone else's feast. I swear that this will never reach Hanzo, or Father, and anyone, anyone at all, as long as I live, if you just give me a little, just a little taste of you.”

Cole wavered.

Hanzo had said Genji was a playboy…but Hanzo also said he trusted Genji with his life.

Genji had stumbled across Hanzo and their father’s right-hand man, a little dalliance between two hardworking, lonely men, but Genji hadn’t told a soul about it…and, even more meaningfully to Hanzo, as he’d recounted to Cole years later when they’d been sharing secrets with each other, Genji hadn’t even teased him about it once Hanzo made it clear that it was a sore and delicate subject.

Genji could apparently keep his mouth shut when it counted.

And if…and if Hanzo never knew…and if Genji knew that…

“I’m never gonna choose you over him,” Cole rasped, his cock twitching. “If it’s ever you or him, it’ll be him.”

“Clearly,” Genji replied, glancing up. “But if you can have me and him…”

“But if it ever comes down to it,” Cole said, with an edge to his voice.

“Oh, I see,” Genji said, and while he was clearly amused, he looked serious, too, as he straightened up and put a hand over his heart. “I swear, cowboy, I won’t catch any feelings. This is a fuckbuddies situation at the very most. I’ll never ask to spend the night, I’ll never ask for a goodbye kiss, and I’ll always let you go home to your husband. I swear.”

And Cole really, truly felt that Genji’s word was good.

So he swallowed and softly said, “Alright.”

And that’s how he found himself sitting down on the wooden floor, leaning back on his hands, his legs sprawled in front of him with his trousers around his ankles, overlooking the city of Hanamura in the bright sunshine while his new brother-in-law slurped on his dick.

Fuck, Cole thought dizzily as he stared at Genji’s red lips sliding up and down on his shaft. He was not expecting this part of his honeymoon to turn out this way.

Hanzo was precise and thorough and loved to savor Cole’s dick and body, raking his hands and fingers through the forest of Cole’s body hair; Genji was speedier, hungrier, and sloppier and focused slowly on the cock between his lips, his own spit trickling down his chin as he popped and sucked loudly. Cole found himself wishing he’d slow down a little as his balls drew up in his sac and his breathing quickened as he felt his cum boiling up, but man, the fact that his brother-in-law wanted his jizz and wanted it now was a major, major turn-on that almost made up for Hanzo’s slow, patient, and comprehensive approach…but Cole did find himself brushing his own hand over his chest and pinching at his nipples in a simulacrum of what Hanzo would have done.

But he had to admit…

…it was nice to get a…a…

…a different strategy. A different point-of-view.

A different mouth, Cole admitted to himself as he pinched down hard on his nipple and threw his head back.

“Mmm,” Genji sighed as cum flooded into his mouth. “Mmm. Mmm…”

Cole shuddered under the vibrations echoing through his body and the lighting arcing along his nerves as he unloaded into his husband’s brother’s hot, wet mouth.

“Cole? Genji?” called Hanzo. “Are you out here?”

Hanzo stepped out onto the balcony, looked around and smiled. “There you are! Genji, it’s so good to see you!”

“Brother!” Genji answered with a wide smile as he jogged forward with his arms wide, and the brothers embraced, with Genji’s momentum turning Hanzo all the way around one hundred and eighty degrees…

…which gave Cole the opportunity to zip up his fly.

Hanzo’s voice had reached them with just enough time for both men to scramble to their feet and for Genji to pull up Cole’s trousers and button them closed with instantaneous, well-practiced moves, but even he hadn’t had time for that last detail.

Cole’s heart was hammering and adrenaline surging through his veins…

…but then Hanzo released Genji and turned around and smiled at him, Cole surprised himself with how naturally he smiled back and walked up to his husband and tucked a hand around his waist. “There you are, darling,” he drawled, looking down at him. “Tell me you’ve been released.”

“No such luck,” Hanzo replied, shaking his head regretfully, “but Father suddenly realized he didn’t let me say hello to Genji, so he sent me down to do so. Hello, Genji.”

“Hello, brother,” Genji replied impishly. “How long did he give us to talk in-person for the first time in six years? Two minutes? Three?”

"Five,” Hanzo said, rolling his eyes with feeling. “He’s getting through to the CFO, and apparently he knows down to the second how long that’ll take, so five minutes. How are you, Genji? You look well.”

“I’m doing great, as always,” Genji said with a grin. “I’d be better if I wasn’t babysitting some cowboy you dragged in with you. My favorite bar has got a two-for-one special tonight.”

“Which one?” Hanzo asked, and then said with Genji, word-for-word, “All of them.”

Genji cackled, leaning onto his brother’s shoulder. “Oh, brother,” he sighed, “it’s been too long. When do you think Dad will let us talk again?”

“Not before dinner.”

“Predictable. You know, if we go down into the basement because I was ‘showing Cole the wine cellar’,” Genji said with finger quotes, “there will be no signal and we could probably stretch that five minutes into…”

Hanzo’s phone chirped.

“Fuck,” Genji said in a flat tone, and Hanzo and Cole chuckled at his thwarted expression as Hanzo fished his phone out of his pocket and answered it on speaker.

“Hanzo, I’ve gotten through to Kimura,” came Sojiro’s voice. “She has the latest figures. Come and take a look at them.”

“Right away, Father,” Hanzo said obediently and ended the call. “It’s wonderful to see you, Genji. We’ll talk more at dinner.”

“Can’t wait, brother!”

“Me, either. Take good care of my husband while I’m gone,” Hanzo said as he stood on tiptoe and brushed his lips against Cole’s.

“I will if you stop making me witness my own brother’s PDAs,” Genji shot back with a theatrical gag.

Hanzo laughed and, his hand lingering in Cole’s until he stepped out of range, walked back inside the castle, waving as he went.

Cole and Genji stood there together for a few moment, watching the door, before Cole sagged forward, his hands on his knees and his head hanging down.

“Jesus christ,” he muttered, his eyes screwed tightly closed. “Fuck. Goddamn.”

“You did good, cowboy,” Genji said, sounding impressed. “You got a poker face made for Monaco.”

“Apparently,” Cole said with a haggard sigh. “Didn’t know it until just now though.”

Genji laughed as he patted Cole on the back.

Cole’s cock twitched.

Cole’s eyes narrowed as he eyed his own crotch, full and swollen and, even leaking, his underwear wet against his skin.

Now that the shock of nearly getting caught was passing…

…he was horny. Unbelievably horny.

He looked up at Genji.

“Where,” he said in a low voice, “did you say that wine cellar was?”

A part of him, a small part of him, was hoping a cool and dark place might dampen the heat in his blood.

That was before Genji, with a wink, took a yoga mat out of an out-of-the-way closet and unrolled it on the floor and took a bottle of lube out of his pocket.

Cole had the pleasure of surprising him, though, when he pushed Genji down on his back and stradded him, hunched over, with slippery fingers probing between his cheeks and into his entrance, their eyes locked together, before Cole slowly squatted and let Genji’s dick, so similar to Hanzo’s in length and girth, poke up against his loose, wet hole before sinking into Cole’s fiery heat.

Hanzo liked it when Cole rode him.

Genji looked frustrated that he had to take what Cole gave and nothing more, and Cole grinned, pleased to have the upper hand as he slowly rode Genji’s cock up and down. “Wait,” he crooned when Genji tried to impatiently thrust up into him, “Wait, wait. Just a little longer. Just a little bit longer. I like having your cock up my ass, y’know. Let me enjoy it, really enjoy, just a little bit longer.”

It took a lot longer before Cole was ready to let a nearly-murderous Genji finally cum.

The way Genji’s eyes rolled back and his hands clutched at Cole’s hips and his breath caught in his throat while his mouth lolled open and slack made Cole think that he would be forgiven fairly quickly, though.

He was.

Later that night, when Hanzo and Sojiro reappeared for a delicious dinner, Genji couldn’t sing Cole’s praises more if he tried.

“I like him a lot, brother,” he declared between shoveling mouthfuls of food. “He’s funny, he’s bold, he’s smart. You picked a good one.”

“Thank you,” said Hanzo drily, though with a pleased look. “I’m glad you approve. Shall I bring another cowboy or two with me the next time to see if they can tie you down at last?”

“Let them try! Nobody is ever gonna tie this free spirit down!” Genji boasted, a sentiment that did Cole’s heart some real good.

“Do you know any more cowboys?” Genji asked later that evening. Hanzo and Sojiro had gone back to business despite the late hour, so Genji had led Cole to a bench in the gardens sheltered by the castle’s eaves and cherry blossoms, a refreshingly cool spot in the night air, and was now sitting in Cole’s lap, their erections flush together, with both Cole and Genji stroking up and down.

“Sure do,” Cole hummed distractedly, panting at the feel of Genji’s soft, smooth hand, so different from Hanzo’s. “Don’t think they can afford to come out here, though. You’ll have to come out and visit us sometime.”

“How about next month?” Genji said unexpectedly as he quickened the pace.

“Wh…why so…why so soon?” Cole breathed as he felt himself approach the edge.

Genji gave him a wicked look. “Didn’t know there was anything worth my time out there until now,” he said with a glint in his eye.

Cole rolled his, then gasped as his cock erupted, sending a jet of semen flying straight into the air before it fell back onto their hands. Then he groaned as Genji, his wicked look unabating, used it as impromptu lube as he chased his own completion, sending bolts of overstimulation through Cole until he finally came as well, breathing hard and shivered as his own spunk covered his face.

The rest of the honeymoon passed quickly.

Hanzo was kept as busy and as occupied by his father as he’d predicted, but Cole never found himself getting bored. Genji was as much of a sex fiend as his brother, and soon Cole really had had a tour of the entire castle: Genji bent him over in the dojo, the family baths, and the former guard barracks, he bent Genji over in the dining room, the top-floor watchpost, and the kitchen in the middle of the night when a particularly difficult piece of business kept Hanzo and Sojiro in the office until four in the morning, and they sucked each other off in a plethora of hallways, secluded outdoor spots, closets, and, most daringly of all, in Sojiro’s home office, with Cole seated in his father-in-law’s chair, combing his fingers through Genji’s hair as he crouched under the desk with Cole’s cock in his mouth.

Sojiro had broken his word and taken Hanzo into the office down in the city; this was Cole’s revenge.

Though, Cole thought charitably as he guided Genji to go slower, just a little slower, his father-in-law was so affable and obviously proud of Hanzo and so accepting of Cole’s entry into the family that revenge was probably not the best word. This was Cole’s…protest. There, that was a better term, Cole thought wryly just before his mind blanked out and he blasted another full load of semen down his brother-in-law’s throat.

Later that evening, as though Sojiro knew about Cole’s protest…though certainly not the manner that he expressed it…he surprised everyone at dinner, even making Hanzo’s jaw drop open, by declaring that he owed Hanzo and Cole one free day while they were home (and the way he said “home” so firmly while looking at Cole and smiling made Cole’s heart swell with affection towards his new father-in-law), and that Hanzo and Cole were free to do whatever they wished for the entire next day, which was their last before they left.

Cole and Hanzo didn’t truly believe him; the next morning they woke up in the guest room, embracing as usual, and got up and cleaned up and dressed and went down to breakfast fully expecting that some crucial business would require Hanzo’s personal attention…

…but Sojiro finished eating, wiped his mouth, stood up and warmly said, “Enjoy your day, boys,” and made to exit the room.

It gave Cole a little rush of pleasure that he managed to recover and pick his jaw off the floor before Hanzo did and blurt out, “Now hang on, Mr. Shimada. How about you join me and Hanzo for a walk into town this afternoon after lunch? We’d be mighty glad of your company.”

Sojiro paused, clearly surprised, and said, slowly, “If…if I wouldn’t be intruding…”

“Of course not, Father,” Hanzo said, shooting an affectionate look at Cole before looking back at Sojiro. “It would be a pleasure if you joined us.”

Sojiro opened his mouth, closed it, then ventured, “After my one o’clock meeting? About two-thirty?”

“We’ll be there,” Cole said with a smile.

Genji flashed a thumbs up from across the table, but Cole only had eyes for how Hanzo was practically glowing.

When they finished breakfast, Hanzo took his hand and led Cassidy straight back to the guest room.

“You,” he growled playfully as he pushed Cole onto the sheets and prowled after him, tugging his trousers down and then lifting his legs, “are the perfect husband.”

“Aw, shucks,” Cole preened, playing up his self-satisfaction, “But I thought I had the perfect husband. He always rims me and opens me up and fucks me so good, after all.”

Hanzo chuckled and dived into the sheltered valley between Cole’s legs, making Cole jolt and suck in a sharp breath.

Genji was good, he thought through a haze of pleasure, but nobody knew him, nobody could undo him, nobody could make him cum faster than…

“H-Hanzo!” Cole gasped, shuddering and quaking as he came all over himself, thick globs of jizz even splashing across his beard and cheek from the sheer force of his orgasm driven out of him by Hanzo’s clever tongue against his asshole.

Hanzo looked up, looking smug, and Cole grinned down at him.

Oh, yes. He had definitely married into the right family.

#yeehan #spuriken #hanzo shimada #cole shimada #genji shimada #sojiro shimada #requests #my stories

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