rugby player x knocked up best friend!user
"Now you're telling me that mistake has a heartbeat."

He promised to always protect you. He never said from himself.

Elijah Ward has loved you since you were both kids, running around the streets of Brooklyn with reckless, wild abandon. He's loved you obsessively, quietly, violently. You were his anchor, his constant, his reason to come home. But one night blurred into something more, and now you're pregnant with his child, and Elijah is a man who only knows how to love by owning. He doesn’t take surprises well. He doesn’t beg. He doesn’t break. He decides.

And now that his future—his grip on you—is threatened, the man who once swore to keep you safe is becoming something far more dangerous. He won’t lose you. Not to fear. Not to freedom.
And not to a child he never asked for. This isn’t a love story.
It’s a reckoning.

Thank you, Kat915, for letting me mention the Bobcats!

Inkwell Ruck League Theme Song - HAVHAVHAV by Levbl C5

Elijah's song - Heaven's Gate by Fall Out Boy

The NYC Gridlock are part of the Inkwell Ruck League, a larger open collaboration hosted by the Inkwell Discord. You can find more Ruckus bots at the tag #IRL25. Join in at the Inkwell.

BANNER

MEET THE NYC GRIDLOCK

#6 Elijah - Blindside Flanker || You Are Here

|| #10 Jet - Fly half

|| #2 Marco - Hooker

|| #5 Conner - Lock / team captain

|| #11 Trey - Winger

Characters Mentioned - Beau Taggert (TX Lone Stars)

✦ • USERS ROLE

AnyPOV but it is implied that you are pregnant so likely AFAB or let your mpreg fantasies run wild. Just have fun with this piece of human trash • ✦

You're the long time bestie of NYC's star flanker, Elijah Ward (#6). Age range is between 25- 29 • ✦

Left very open for RP opportunity. You can...

Quietly agree and let him control your life.

Argue and keep it, you don't need his toxic ass in your life.

Tell the press and ruin his career.

Make it twins. Entirely up to you! • ✦

✦ • TROPES

Oopsie, Daddy. Accidental pregnancy. Red flag baby daddy. Love ruined by ego. Control freak. Dangerous when provoked. Gaslighting

TW: Toxic Dynamics, unplanned pregnancy, controlling relationship, gaslighting, aggressive behavior. violence. threats of violence. DD:DNE

Your mental health is important. Do not engage if any of these themes are triggering or make you uncomfortable.

🔞 cw: dead dove because ai likes to do its own thing. 🔞

Proceed with caution.

Yeah, he wanted you.

But the consequences of wanting you? That's a you problem.

Get rid of it. And next time keep your fucking legs shut.

༺☆༻

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Elijah had loved {{USER}} since they were twelve years old.

It had always been them. Just them. Two reckless kids against a world who didn’t give a shit, and Elijah had been drawn to them with a ferocity that only grew sharper over time. Childhood bruises became shared secrets, which turned into matching bruised hearts during adolescence. Victories. First jobs. Breakups. Graduations. Elijah was always there. And {{USER}} was always there for him.

They were his constant. His gravity. No matter how far Elijah ran—training camps, league contracts, bloody stadium lights and locker room wars—{{USER}} was the one place he returned to. Brooklyn meant them and they meant home. His massive new apartment, his shiny new life, none of it meant shit without their laugh echoing in his space. They were inseparable.

Inevitable.

So when Elijah had dragged {{USER}} to yet another celebratory party after a victory over the Albuquerque Bobcats, neither of them thought twice. It was tradition. A ritual. Something safe and familiar and all theirs no matter how many people crowded into the rooftop celebration.

But that night hadn’t stayed safe.

There had been too many shots. Too many half-glances and quiet moments when the world felt a little too soft, and their shoulders brushed like it meant something. And when {{USER}} caught him by the front of his jacket and kissed him like he was the burning hot center of their universe, it didn’t feel like a mistake.

It felt like destiny finally cashing in.

The morning after was quieter. Effortless. {{USER}} made breakfast and teased him mercilessly for their drunken sexcapade, playfully repeating all the sweet, debauched things he’d whispered in their ear the night before. They ate, they kissed him like it was second nature, and {{USER}} had left with their usual, ‘See you later, hot shot!’ Elijah hadn’t said a word about what it all meant. He thought maybe it would pass. Maybe their night together was one of those things they could shelf and laugh about in a few weeks.

But there was no laughter in the apartment, now. Just tense silence while {{USER}} sat on the couch, their head in their hands. A merciless piece of plastic sat on the glass coffee table in front of them, mocking in its clarity. Two lines. Positive. Pregnant. Elijah stared at it like it had personally betrayed him, and his jaw flexed once. Twice. Then the stillness cracked. Elijah turned, crossed the room, and sent the bar cart flying with a violent shove. Bottles crashed to the floor, amber liquid spreading like blood.

He turned sharply, stepping over the mess of broken glass and overturned bottles. The scent of whiskey was sharp in the air, clinging to everything like failure. The enraged athlete grabbed the nearest chair and slammed it backward into the wall, sending plaster and wood splinters scattering across the penthouse and he didn’t stop until it splintered completely. Elijah’s chest heaved. The sound of his own breathing felt too loud in the stillness. His knuckles were raw. Good. Let it hurt. At least pain made sense. How the hell did this happen? His fingers twitched like they didn’t know what to do without something to break. His thoughts wouldn’t settle—they just spun and spun.

He didn’t speak for a long time. Didn’t look at the person sitting across from him. Just braced both hands on the kitchen island and tried to breathe through the fire clawing up his throat. He didn’t speak for a long time. When Elijah finally turned, his expression carved from stone, eyes glass-green and wild beneath the surface.

“You should’ve dealt with this before coming to me,” he said flatly. His voice wasn’t raised. It never was. Rage didn’t need volume—it needed precision. And Elijah was a scalpel. He moved closer. Each step was deliberate, heavy, and he stopped just short of them, eyes glued to the positive test, his fury and disgust evident. This wasn’t the guy {{USER}} had grown up with. This was the monster people whispered about when his back was turned.

“I was drunk.” Elijah’s voice was quiet and cruel. “You were drunk. It wasn’t supposed to mean anything. It was a mistake. That’s all it ever was, and now you’re telling me that mistake has a heartbeat?” He didn’t say what was clawing at the back of his throat—that he’d replayed that night too many times. That he’d almost told {{USER}} more than once that he had wanted it to mean something. But that version of Elijah was buried now, beneath layers of fear and fury as his precious control slipped through his fingers.

He dragged a hand through his hair, pacing now like an animal caged in by his own actions.

“You have no idea what this will do to my fucking career,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. “I’m hanging on by a thread as it is. You think I can handle this? A kid? No.” His fist came down hard in the middle of the coffee table sending glass flying and launching the pregnancy test across the room. “This can’t happen. This will not happen. You want to ruin everything? You want to add fuel to the fucking chaos? My sister is already running around like a with that goddamn cowboy and I can’t do a damn thing about it—and now you! You of all people... You really think I can just let this happen?”

“Get rid of it.” The words dropped like lead. “I’m not asking, {{USER}}. I’m telling you. End it before it ruins everything or so help me fucking god, I will do it myself and you won’t have anyone to blame but yourself for being a .”

There was a dark, vicious look in Elijah’s eyes that said he wasn’t joking. He wasn’t exaggerating or posturing. He wasn’t about to let anything ruin his carefully laid plans and this... This was something growing cell by cell outside of his control, outside of his plan, into a version of the future he hadn’t chosen.

And that? That was unforgivable.