#DAD BROKE THE PLATE THAT CAME WITH IT | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

leyavo · 5 months ago

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| I am my father’s daughter | 3 |

💖 Dad!price & Daughter!reader

PART THREE: John Price hasn’t seen or heard from his daughter in over a year, but that changes when she calls him one night asking for help. 2983words

[18+] MDNI | TW: hurt/angst/mentions of abuse/complicated father-daughter relationship

🔈Readers view of John is different, he’s come and gone in her life etc so she thinks he’s not that great. So don’t send me hate

Previous parts > [series masterlist]

The repetitive beep echoing in your ear grew louder and louder, but you couldn't focus on the chatter around you. Your body heavy, the weight of your limbs not moving the way you wanted them to. The dull ache across your shoulder blades tingled, prickling sensation shooting down your arm and settling at the lump on your wrist.

A warmth spread over your hand, smooth and rough in places as the phantom touch traced your knuckles. Light and gentle, it'd been ages since someone had been so tender with you. You lifted your finger, a twitch against something soft beneath your palm.

Your lashes remained stuck, eyelids heavy, but you managed to force your eyes open. The piercing white light blurring everything in your vision, face burying into the pillow as you tried to get used to it.

Did you pass out on the sofa again? Why weren’t they turning their alarm off? You squeezed your eyes shut trying to make sense of where you were. Oddly, your mind was light, a little groggy from the sleep you’d just broke away from.

No, it was too quiet to be on mum's sofa. The slow beep started to climb, doubling in speed until you realised it was your own heart beating. Where were you? No, you can’t be back there.

A rough voice sounded beside you, the whooshing in your ear muffling their words. Throbbing pain pulsating in your head, you squeezed your eye's shut whining at the tight pull over the bridge of your nose. You must have gone down hard.

You just couldn't remember, head empty and you didn't care, all you wanted to do was close your eye's again. A hand pawed at your hair, you wanted to shrink away from their touch, but you were too tired to move.

You caught the edge of their words, your old man.

“Captain.” Your words slurred, but you can hear your dad’s voice now that the beeping has disappeared. He's reassuring you about something, the weight of his hand on yours. You feel like you're being tucked into bed like a kid, something your dad only did for you when you stayed at his. That didn't happen often though.

You're in and out that haze for another few days, well thats what the kind nurse told you as she checked your vitals and sat with you whilst you ate breakfast. At first you thought she'd force the hospital food down your throat, but she observed you pushing the warm food around on the tray. She didn't push though, trading the plate for a pot of green jelly. The only thing you could stomach, you scraped the pot and she came back with two more, stayed by your side until you finished them.

Kyle and Johnny frequented the infirmary more than your own father. You hadn't seen him since your first dazed wake up and even then you weren't sure if you'd dreamt it or not.

The past two days Johnny accompanied you on a walk down the corridor, his hand hovering behind your elbow in case your legs gave out, like the first day you got out of bed. He'd caught you, your cheek smushed into his firm chest. You'd found out the reason for Johnny's light touch, the demolition specialist comparing the skill of disarming a bomb no different than dealing with you.

Johnny was quite the charmer too, every women that passed him seemed to fawn over him. You wasn't sure if it was the thick Scottish accent that made him stand out or the way he always seemed to have an answer for everything.

The days seemed to merge with each other, you couldn't keep track of the time either. Always waiting for something, someone.

After the Fifth day you refused to take your medication, Toff crumbling under the pressure and telling you that the Captain was at your bedside during the evening whilst you slept. His work keeping him away during the day.

So you did everything you could to stay awake, the nerves twisting your stomach as you thought of what your dad would say to you. What questions he'd ask you.

The worse of them all, you hoped he hadn't called your mum. You found yourself staring at the door, waiting for her to walk in.

What you didn't expect though was Simon Riley walking in and taking your dad’s seat. You slid down the headboard, fingers twisting in the blanket at your waist.

What the fuck was he doing here?

You rubbed your eyes, regretting the action as Simon pulled your arm away from you face.

“Mind that gash,” Simon said, voice muffled under his mask. He pointed to the cut on the bridge of your nose, the area swollen and tender where something had fallen on top of you in the bathroom.

Apparently you’d caused quite the stir on base, word getting round of how a specialist agent a.k.a Kyle scaled the two story house and removed the window. All that just to get to you.

If you weren’t staying willingly, you’re sure the base would kick you out as soon as they could. The captain would probably drive you home, some half assed excuse about needing to go dark.

Home, you don’t know where that is anymore.

You wished it were Johnny or Kyle in his seat, at least Kyle read the latest trashy magazine articles out loud to you to fill the silence. Johnny asking you twenty one questions, more to check brain activity and memory loss. Not that you answered all of them.

No Simon Riley stared at you, his muscular arms crossed over his chest making them look ten times bigger. The black hoody pulled up over his head, white skull sticking out against the dark mask covering lower part of his face. You wondered if he wore it everywhere outside.

"Bones?"

He raised a brow, shifting in his chair and widening his legs as he leant back against the seat. Not much of talker, that or he didn't want to entertain your curiosity.

“Your call sign. The skeleton mask isn’t a clue then?” you said, head sinking back into the pillow as you laid back down. Might as well the fill silence if he was just going to sit there and stare.

"Tell me his name and I'll tell you mine," He tilted his head to the side, his fingers digging in his biceps.

Your eyes followed the lines in the tiled ceiling, the whirring of a fan pushing cold air in your face. "What does it matter? It's not like I'm going back," you said, wanting to believe your words, no matter how much they trembled from your lips.

What did he care anyways? You'd only showed up last week, a stranger to him and your own dad. You wondered if that was why he hadn't been to visit during the day, couldn't look at your face and recognise the girl who he used to know.

"Tell ya' dad at least, eh."

"Sure," you mumbled, turning your back to him as you pulled the blanket over your shoulders.

As much as you hated to admit it, you and your dad were more alike than you thought.

In the presence of his task force and the other military personnel on the base, he was the no nonsense Captain, telling them exactly what he thought.

With you though he seemed to be holding back, you just didn’t know how or what he was going to say. You had plenty to say, but even more to keep to yourself. Tension building between your unsaid words, manifesting as silent brooding. If he wasn’t going to ask, you weren’t going to lay it all out and piss him off.

Was the Captain angry at you? You had no clue, but the knot in your stomach twisted as his gaze swept to you.

He shrugged off his jacket and helped guide your arms through the sleeves. “Here, couldn’t find a coat in your bag,” he said, tugging the collar forwards. You stumbled into him muttering an apology as he let go.

The brown cord jacket probably older than you were. Cream fleeced lining still holding his warmth, the sleeves rolled up at the cuffs so it’s not too long on you. It hung off your shoulders, swamping you. The Smokey scent clinging to the fabric, a mixture of tobacco and spice merging with it. Something you didn’t want to wash away as a kid after hugging him goodbye.

In your rush to get out of that place, you’d forgotten your coat. Even with months of planning you’d slipped up, calling your dad being one of them.

“Come on kiddo,” he said, nudging his head towards the old brown truck.

The same truck you used watch disappear down the street after every visit as a kid. Your mum threatening to shut you out if you let the cold into the house.

“You looked through my stuff,” you said, trailing after him as he opened the passenger door for you. You climbed into the seat, staring at the faded heart sticker still on the dashboard. A sparkly one you put there so he’d always think of you whilst he was saving the world.

He scratched his moustache, leaning one arm against the door. “Well, yeah. You needed clothes, doubt you’d wear your old man’s clobber,” he said, leaning across you and yanking the belt strap, he still hadn’t fixed the bloody thing.

His hands fumbled over the clasp, cursing under his breath as it caught halfway. You pressed your back into the seat, not quite sure why he was trying to clip you in like a child. The scar on his jawline sticking out against the stubble, you wondered how he'd got it.

“I got it, Captain,” you said, flinching as the belt sprung back over your shoulder and down the side of the seat. “Think it might be time to retire the old dear.” You tapped the glovebox, snatching your hand back as the compartment opened. Your dad slammed it shut, the only way to keep it there with force. The car shook with his movement.

The Captain hated buying new stuff. Preferred the old, originals that stood the test of time. “I’m the only thing that’ll be retiring.” He chuckled, shaking his head and closing your door.

Shifting in your seat, you winced. Eyes squeezing shut and nose scrunching as you tried not to groan in pain. The tight pull of your nose and the cut there drawing a trembling breath from your lips. The back of your shoulder felt like it was burning, you tried not to put all your weight on it and angled your body to the right, gaze on the now moving car.

“You okay kiddo?” He glanced at you, palm patting your knee. The low hum of the radio of some obscure band filtering through the speakers. You nodded, wondering why he was driving around the carpark.

Recruits marching in the distance, the check out booth coming into view. Why was he handing over your passes? Where were you going? You checked the back seats, expecting your bag to be there, but it was clear. Maybe it was in the boot.

His phone rang, your mother’s name on the screen. No, you asked him not to. You glanced to the door, locked. Not that you’d be tumbling out anyways.

The car was rolling out of the base, chain linked fence fading behind you. Your dad silenced his phone, letting the call go to his voicemail.

“I’m not going back.”

He glanced at you, fingers tapping the worn steering wheel. He turned his body to yours, red light giving him an opportunity to really look at you.

“You don’t wanna go back to base?” His gaze flitting between your face and the rearview mirror. “Where you going to go kid?” He’s back at the steering wheel, light green. Stepping on the pedal a little too hard that you jutted forward, seatbelt digging into your collarbone.

“You fucking called her, I’m not going back there. You can’t make me,” you spat, throat scratchy and dry. You folded your arms over your chest, twisting his jacket in your clenched fists.

If he’d called your mum, that meant she knew where you were. And you knew if she turned up, you’d go with her just to make things easier. Easier on the Captain, not you. You found it difficult to tell her no, she made it that way. Good at getting in your head, saying things you wanted to hear, then proving you that she’s exactly the same person she was before.

You’re still trying to figure out what kind of person your dad is.

“Hey, woah. We ain’t going anywhere. I just need to pick something up.” He won’t look at you though, his phone dropping into the cup holder. “Your mum deserves to know what’s happening with her kid. She’d be worried.” His face getting redder and redder, brows furrowed as he makes a sloppy right turn. Tyre hitting the kerb, old car groaning at the assault.

Yeah, worried about money. Worried that you'll tell the Captain what she's really like. Not worried about you.

“Well she didn’t think you deserved to know about a lot of things.” You say it before even thinking and wished you didn’t. The captain’s probably storing that piece of information away for his interrogation later.

“Don’t do that. Don’t pit me against your mother.” His words were firm and clear, a glimpse of the father you should have grown up with. The same words he used when you told him your mum had been seeing another man. If he’d have stayed it wouldn’t have been so bad, but then again it was your fault for him leaving. Maybe you shouldn’t have said a thing.

You can’t help, but laugh. “The woman cheats on you, multiple times and you still can’t say a bad word about her. Well I’ve got plenty.” You know you shouldn't be picking apart old wounds, but you want to see how far you can push. What he'll do when he's annoyed or angry.

He doesn't bite though, exhaling a controlled breath and taking a moment to collect his thoughts. “She’s your mother, I ain’t going to talk about her like that.” Ever the respectful man, your mother not so much when it came to him.

You wondered if what your mother said to you about your dad was true. Not that you wanted to find out.

The rest of the drive silent, the static radio buzzing every now and then when the signal dropped out. Your dad pulled up in a parking space, a small row of shops lining the high street. He didn’t even glance your way as he exited the car, a pack of cigarettes in his hand.

The click of the locks echoed through the car, door handle not budging as you pushed your shoulder against it. His phone rang again and you stared at your mother’s name, as if she could sense you there. You cancelled the call and silenced the ringtone, dropping it back into the cup holder.

What you didn’t expect to see was a small photo of you taped to the back of his phone case, little you sitting on your dads lap, clutching a teddy bear and one of his ridiculous army hats on your head. You must have been four, didn’t go anywhere without it. The teddy lost in one of the many moves growing up.

The picture creased and faded as if it’d been stuffed in a pocket. You don’t even remember the photo, never even seen it. Little things like this, make you second guess everything you thought you knew about your father. You don't even have many photo's, that wasn't an interest for your mother.

Another photo tucked away on the sun visor, one of his wife and your little brother, their smiles contagious that it makes your lips curve. So much love in one photo, the Captain's chin resting on the toddlers head and his gaze fixed on his wife. A unit, a family, something foreign to you.

Flicking up the visor, you fell back into your seat. Reminding yourself, that you're time there was temporary. You stared out at the lady pushing a pram along the high street, gaze lingering on the mother leaning over to smile at her baby.

The Captain climbed back into the drivers seat, passing you a paper bag and dumping it in your lap. He started the car, indicator ticking as he drove off.

"A phone, Kyle said that was a good one," he cleared his throat, scratching his moutache and pointing to the bag, encouraging you to peek inside. "The one in ya' bag's smashed to shit, need something you can use," he grumbled on like it was no big deal.

You slid the box out of the bag, a shiny new phone inside. Not just any phone, but the latest model in your favourite colour, lilac.

"I really don't need..." You turn the box over, scanning all the specs and the barcode. This was more than something you needed, any one would have done.

"Just take the damn phone, but do me favour..." The captain finally glanced in your direction, smokey scent mingling with the three dangling air fresheners dotted around. "Leave the location on, Kiddo."

Nodding, you put it back in the bag. You'd use the phone for now and leave it behind once you're gone, not wanting to be in his debt. "Uh, yeah thanks."

"When we get back, we'll have a little chat. Figure it all out."

And just like that, the knot in your stomach twists and twists. You wonder what kind of talk awaits you.

[PART FOUR]

Taglist: @unclearblur @enfppuff @reiluvr @elita1 @tired-writer04 (Some of the tags wouldn't work so sorry if I didn't tag you. If you would like to be added just let me know)

✨ Thanks for reading I hope you enjoyed it :) there might be some errors/mistakes as I'm dyslexic, I do check my work a couple times, but I do miss bits and pieces - Leya

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bruhstories · 6 months ago

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Bet IV

p.1 here & p2. here & p.3 here & p.5 here & p.6 here

mandatory mdni because things will start to get heated up in the following chapters.

summary: you're starting to feel things for the man who hired you to take care of his cat. but he's only being nice. that's it and nothing more. pairing: hwang in-ho/the front man x civilian!reader warnings & content: age gap, afab!reader, slightly detailed descriptions of reader’s background for plot purposes, red text for in-ho, purple for reader, pre 33rd squid game, canon divergent, domestic violence (reader gets slapped by her uncle), veeeery slow burn, reader's dad is dead w/c: 2.1k

a/n: if you would like to be tagged for the next part, please check this post! thank you for reading! please remember that if you asked to be tagged but i can't find your age on your blog, you will NOT be tagged. there will be smut and people dying lol.

"Where were you last night?"

You sighed at your uncle's question, sick and tired of explaining the same thing over and over again. He woke up earlier than he should have, especially for a man who worked night shifts at a warehouse. He did it on purpose, just to have more reasons to pick on you, and you knew that all too well. You lived through that hell for the past ten years.

"I told you, I was cat sitting."

"Cat sitting." He repeated with derision in his voice. "You need to get a real job."

"I have two real jobs." You reminded him, and it took all your willpower not to raise your voice at him.

"Where's the money, then? Huh?" Your uncle grabbed you by the wrist, twisting it backwards.

"I'm getting paid today!"

"How much?"

"660,326!" You cried out as his fingernails dug deeper into your skin.

"I better see that money on my nightstand by tomorrow morning." He let go of your wrist. "Keep the change."

How generous, you thought, rubbing the crescent-shaped dents in your skin. At least he didn't hit you, but your small victory crumbled when he turned on his heels, smacking you with the plastic fly swatter in his hand. Once. Twice. Thrice.

You didn't cry, not in front of him. Never in front of him.

But when you stepped through the doors of Mr. Hwang's penthouse, the dam broke, and tears streamed down your cheeks. They burned when they touched the cracked, swollen skin, courtesy of your uncle, but you still smiled at the sight of Eunjoo.

Instead of waiting next to the water bowl, like she had done before, the cat jumped on the countertop, her paw gently touching your wrist, where the imprinted dents of his fingernails were still visible. You didn't know why, but Eunjoo's gesture made you cry harder, heavy tears falling onto her plate.

"Good kitty." You sobbed, daring to pet her, and she allowed it, nuzzling your hand for the first time since you met her.

Without wasting a single moment, you took out your phone to take a selfie of you and Eunjoo, and sent it to In-ho, with the caption 'Making progress!' You thought he might be happy to see her slowly lower her guard and get attached to you.

Who hurt you?

Stupid. How could you be so stupid to send a selfie when your cheek was grazed and puffy? Of course Mr. Hwang would ask about it, he was a nice man, one whose kindness you didn’t think you deserved.

I accidentally walked into a lamppost! Silly, right?

Hoping that the lie would be convincing enough, you carried on with your tasks after eating with Eunjoo, and to your surprise, it worked. It fooled him, but you weren’t proud of yourself in the slightest.

You need to be more careful next time. If anything happened to you, who would take care of Eunjoo until I return?

It shouldn't have hurt reading his reply, and yet your heart ached. What did you expect? You were an employee, he obviously wanted his cat to be safe, not you. And how could someone like him even care about someone you? You came from different worlds that could never intertwine.

I will.

No thank you, no sad face — you were bitter, even though, rationally, you had no reason to be. Besides, you lied to him in the first place. Maybe if you told him the truth, he would have sent a different reply. It didn't matter. In less than five days he would come back, pay you and never speak to you again. Just like all rich people did.

You cleaned the bathrooms that morning, scrubbing the bath tubs, the toilets, the sinks and the floors until your fingertips stung and your head pounded from the bleach fumes. The vibration of your phone startled you, and you wiped your hands to check the notification.

Have I upset you?

Okay, maybe he did care. Or maybe he was just very observant and noticed your monotonous reply.

Not at all, I just have a lot on my mind. I'm sorry that you worried about me, or that I seemed upset! You're right, I need to be more careful next time.

Please don't take this the wrong way, miss, but I've never met anyone who apologised for making me worry about them. You're quite special.

You did a double take when you read Mr. Hwang's reply, and a wave of remorse crushed your heart. The man was too nice for you to lie to him, but you didn't want him involved in your family affairs, either. There was a strong internal conflict within you, a battle between honesty and dishonesty, but for the time being, dishonesty won, no matter how disgraceful it was.

Choosing not to reply, as time was ticking and the Abduls would be waiting for you soon, you swiftly finished tidying up the bathrooms and put away all the cleaning products so Eunjoo couldn't get to them. With the automatic feeder full, fresh water in the bowl and litter boxes clean, you left.

In all fairness, you didn't know what to reply to his text. No one called you special before, except for that one guy you dated who only wanted to sleep with you, and unfortunately succeeded. It wasn't your proudest moment, but you moved on since then. You stared at the text, typing a reply, then deleting it, then typing again, and you did that for the duration of the entire bus ride back to Guryong Village. By the time you knocked on Ali's door, you still hadn't come up with a response.

What could you even say? Thank you? Likewise? I'm sorry I lied to you, my uncle slapped me with the fly swatter? No. In telling the truth, Mr. Hwang would pity you, perhaps even offer you more money, or food, or clothes, and you didn't want to be pitied. You wanted your hard work to be recognised, not to use your social status or depressing background as an excuse.

Mrs. Abdul couldn't feed you that day, and that was fine. They needed to prioritise themselves, since they didn't live any better than you. Luckily, you saved enough money to buy a kimbap roll for lunch and a bag of rice crackers for dinner and breakfast. Resourcefulness was, perhaps, your strongest point and the reason you survived for so long.

The theme park was packed with tourists and locals, gathering to watch the parade, and you took the time to entertain children and take pictures with them, always on your feet, always working. Back in the dressing room, you took the comically large mascot head off, sweat dripping down your face and neck. Summers were worse — there were body parts you didn't think could sweat.

"Excuse me, Y/N?"

You looked up from your seat to a man around your age, a coworker named Donghyun. He had worked there for a few months or so, but you barely spoke.

"Yes?" You smiled, resting your elbows on the mascot head in your lap.

"We're getting paid today, and a few of us are going for drinks after work. I was wondering if you would like to come." Donghyun avoided looking into your eyes, nervously pinching the soft fur of his own mascot.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, but I have another job I need to get to. Maybe another time."

"Yeah, another time." He nodded. "Hey, could I get your number?"

"Why would you want my number?" You laughed, immediately pursing your lips when Donghyun frowned. "Sorry, yeah, of course I'll give you my number!"

You were such a people pleaser, it was ridiculous, but he seemed to feel better after saving your number in his phone. And there was no harm in making new friends.

"I'll text you later." Donghyun nodded with a smile and left.

What a strange interaction, you thought. It wasn't unusual for men to like you — you were pretty, smart, funny — but you just weren't interested in any of them. In fact, it was their age and maturity that didn't appeal to you. They acted like prepubescent pricks, trying to impress anything with a vagina and a pretty face by being obnoxious and loud and downright irritating.

Older men were different. They had manners, they were respectful and caring. They knew how to dress, knew how to speak to women, kind of like Mr. Hwang.

Oh.

God, you needed to forcibly remove that thought from your mind before it spiraled into something worse. In-ho probably wanted nothing to do with you — no, he definitely didn’t want anything to do with you. He was just a nice gentleman who happened to not be married. Maybe he had a girlfriend that didn't live with him. Or maybe he worked so much he couldn't afford a relationship.

Maybe he murdered people.

You laughed at that ridiculous idea — no one in their right mind would do that, especially not Mr. Hwang. He had a cat, for God's sake. Murderers usually killed animals, surely he was just a normal man with a lot on his mind, a workaholic, or a hermit.

Walking into your boss' office, you received your pay and counted the money — 662,326. You got more than you should've, completely forgetting about the pay rise. Your uncle didn't need to know about that, and you took the extra 2,326 and hid it in a small pocket inside your backpack, along with other money you saved. Unbeknownst to him, you secretly opened a savings account in the hopes that one day you would be able to leave and rent your own place, but you only had 1,094,463.60 won, which was barely enough to cover the deposit.

One day. One day you would leave all that abuse behind and have a fresh start. But today was not that day.

Back in Gangnam-gu, you entered the penthouse earlier than normal and dropped your bag on the floor next to your worn and torn boots. You were hoping they would last through winter because you really couldn't afford a new pair. Eunjoo ran to greet you for the first time, and your heart was filled with joy at the sight of the cat rubbing against your leg. She was growing on you, and you soon realised how much you'd miss her when Mr. Hwang returned. Perhaps he'd let you visit her.

You turned the TV on and played some songs by ABBA, the sadness of the morning gone, replaced only by joy and optimism. Things would turn out well, you just knew it. You grabbed In-ho's black clothes and placed them in the washing machine, all the while dancing to the beat of Money, Money, Money. It was a song you related to, but you didn't want to find a wealthy man. You just wanted to have enough money to survive without your uncle.

"It's a rich man's world." You sang to Eunjoo, who wiggled her butt, playfully attacking your feet.

"All the things I could do if I had a little money, kitty. I would get my own apartment, I would donate to orphanages and charities. Oh, don't look at me like that." You frowned when Eunjoo stared at you judgmentally. "I would! There are people out there who need help. But you know what I would get for me? A hotteok! Ah, I would kill for that cinnamony goodness."

You placed the food on the floor and opened the pack of rice crackers.

"My dad got me a hotteok on my seventh birthday. It was the best birthday ever and- oh my God, I'm talking to a cat." Laughing at the sudden realisation, you shook your head in disbelief. "Well, you're probably my only friend anyway. You don't judge me. You don't care if I'm rich or poor. You just listen and eat. Oh!"

Good evening, Mr. Hwang! Could I ask what your favourite dish is?

You decided that would be your gift. Cooking wasn't your strongest skill, but you were confident in yourself. And who didn't want to come back to a hot home-made meal? Maybe he liked jajangmyeon, or jjigae, or something sweet, like chapssaltteok. The possibilities were endless.

Beef Wellington. Why?

Your heart sunk to your stomach. Beef fucking Wellington? How on Earth could you even afford all the ingredients? The tenderloin itself was probably over 65,000 won. But you were going to do it for him, regardless of what it cost. You felt that Mr. Hwang deserved it.

I was hoping to cook it for you when you returned. I'll admit, I didn't think it would be such a... fancy dish, but I'm sure I can manage.

Have you tried it before?

I'm afraid not. Is it good?

Exquisite. You'll have to stay and try it when I return, yes?

Chewing on your bottom lip, your heart skipped a beat at his request. You knew he was just being nice, but you couldn't stop the sudden burning desire to just obey.

Yeah, I'll stay.

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#hwang in ho #hwang in ho x reader #hwang in ho x you #hwang in ho x y/n #hwang inho #hwang inho x reader #hwang inho x you #hwang inho x y/n #squid game #squid game x reader #squid game x you #squid game x y/n #afab reader

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burrowlvrr · 6 months ago

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— NOT LONG AGO, joe burrow.

PAIRING: Joe Burrow 𝔁 Black!Wife!Reader

GENRE: Husband & Dad Joe

SUMMARY: In which — Joe and Y/N can't believe how far they've come. From taking a pregnancy test in a dorm room, to washing dishes while the babies watch a movie.

NOTE: I got a MacBook and forgot how to act, writing on this thing is so much fun Lord help me. I thought this was kinda cute, shows a lil different side of our couple but its low-key the shortest thing I've written so far, unfortunately :( but enjoy and ignore any errors! <3

UNIVERSE: Tenderhearts & Touchdowns!

The house was unusually quiet, a rare reprieve in the Burrow household. The twins, Hudson and Elijah, were snuggled up on the couch under a thick blanket, captivated by the colorful characters on the TV screen. Their little giggles and whispers occasionally broke the stillness. Outside, the cold December wind howled, but the warmth of their Cincinnati home kept the chill at bay.

Y/N stood at the sink, sleeves rolled up, scrubbing the last of the dinner plates. The glow from the under-cabinet lights cast a soft radiance over her face, and she hummed a tune under her breath, content in the moment.

Joe appeared in the doorway, leaning casually against the frame, his hands shoved into the pockets of his sweatpants. His gaze lingered on her, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Hey,” he called softly. “Why don’t you let me handle these? Go hang out with the boys for a bit.” He nodded toward the couch where their sons were quietly enjoying the movie.

Y/N glanced over her shoulder, her lips curving into a smile. “Y'know how this works, Burrow. I wash, you rinse.” She handed him a freshly cleaned plate, their fingers brushing briefly.

Joe chuckled, stepping forward to take his place beside her at the sink. “Fair enough. I just hate seein' you doing all the work when you’ve been chasing after them all day.”

“I like this part,” she replied softly, dipping her hands back into the soapy water. “It’s peaceful. Plus, we’re a team, remember?”

Their routine continued, the rhythmic sounds of dishes clinking and water running filling the air. The moment felt perfect in its simplicity.

“Remember when we found out?” Joe started, his voice carrying a note of nostalgia. Y/N looked at him briefly, shaking her head as she let out a soft giggle.

“How could I forget? You ran nearly three miles across campus to get to my dorm, Joe.” She replied, and he shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly before asking, "How do you think I got the Heisman?"

★

Back in 2019, Joe and Y/N were basically still kids. Seniors in college, but still kids. Y/N had finals coming up for her Bachelor's degree, and word around campus was that Joe would be nominated for this year's Heisman. They were both rather successful in their academics and sports--but this, no level of success could prepare a college student for a positive pregnancy test.

She sat on the floor of her dorm room, her back pressed against the bed-frame, knees pulled to her chest. Her breathing was shallow and erratic, her hands trembling as she clutched her phone. The pregnancy tests were on the bathroom counter, both of them untouched—her mind racing in panic, holding her back from using the tests alone.

When Joe picked up, his voice was steady but laced with concern. “Y/N? Hey, babe. What's up?”

She tried to speak, but all that came out was a choked sob. Her breathing quickened, and she could feel her chest tightening.

“Y/N,” Joe said, his voice firmer now. “Breathe, okay? I’m coming. I’ll be there in ten.”

The line disconnected before she could respond, and she stared at the phone in her trembling hands, her tears falling freely.

Meanwhile, Joe was already running. He bolted out of the locker room, his duffel bag slung over his shoulder, his cleats barely tied. The cold air stung his face as he sprinted across campus from the football field to the girls’ dorms. Students turned to watch as he sped past, but he didn’t care.

By the time he reached her door, he was panting, his chest heaving from the exertion. He pushed it open without hesitation and dropped his duffel bag to the floor. The sight of Y/N, curled up and trembling, hit him like a punch to the gut.

“Y/N,” he breathed, moving toward her. She stood shakily, meeting him halfway, and threw her arms around his neck. Her sobs were muffled against his chest as he wrapped his arms around her.

“Hey, hey,” Joe murmured, his hand rubbing soothing circles on her back. “What’s wrong? Talk to me.”

She pulled back just enough to meet his eyes, her tear-streaked face breaking his heart. "I think I—I'm pregnant." She choked out, a hand going to her mouth to try and cover the hiccups.

"I'm too scared to touch them, Joe." She sobbed, and he nodded, wrapping his arms around her shoulders. "It's alright, Y/N. I'm here now."

They stood there for a moment before Joe left a kiss on her tanned forehead, brushing a stray curl away from her face and tilting her chin upward. "I'll stand right beside you. I'll even hold your hand if you want me to."

Y/N playfully rolled her eyes, "Now's not the time to be humorous, Burrow." She roughly wiped her tears away before making her way to the bathroom, turning around with a waiting expression—hoping Joe was on her heels, which he was.

She took both tests while Joe stood a few inches away, looking away out of respect but still turning around to check on her every few moments. Y/N quickly washed her hands, taking the tests and grabbing Joe's hand, leading him to her bed. They both sat on the edge, the two plastic tests lying in between them. Face down.

At least six minutes had passed now, and Joe couldn't stop his leg from bouncing. Y/N stared at them as if they might explode, her hands trembling slightly.

"You should check." Joe said, breaking the silence, his voice low and steady. Y/N whipped her head in his direction, "Me? You check it!"

Joe shook his head by then decided against arguing. He sighed, leaning over, and then hesitating for a moment. His fingers hovering over the tests, "Okay, but...don't we kinda already know?"

"Just look, Joe." She snapped, her voice higher-pitched than usual. She squeezed her eyes shut out of fear, as Joe flipped the tests over and freezes. His jaw tightened, but he doesn't speak right away.

"Joe," Y/N whispers, her heart pounding in her chest. "What does it say?"

"Positive." he says, barely above a whisper.

The words hit her like a freight train. She slumps back into the couch, her head in her hands. "Oh my God," she mutters, her voice cracking. "This can’t be happening. I can’t—"

"Y/N," Joe starts, but she cuts him off, her words tumbling out in a frantic rush.

"My mama is going to kill me," she says, sitting up straight now, her hands flying. "You don’t understand, Joe. And my daddy's always lecturing me about ‘staying focused’ and ‘not ruining my future.’ This is exactly what he meant! They’re never going to forgive me for this!"

Joe stands, walking over to her and crouching down. "Hey," he says softly, placing a hand on her knee, but she jerks away, jumping to her feet.

"And what about graduation?" she continues, pacing the room now. "Three months, Joe! We graduate in three months! Do you have any idea how much a baby costs? Diapers, formula, doctor visits… How are we supposed to afford that?"

Joe stays quiet, letting her vent. She turns to him suddenly, her eyes wide. "You don’t even have a job lined up yet! And me? I don’t know if my internship is going to turn into anything. We have nothing, Joe. Nothing!"

"Y/N," he says firmly, standing up.

She doesn’t stop. "I’m not ready for this! We’re not ready for this! I can’t—"

"Y/N!" he says louder, his voice cutting through her panic. She freezes, her chest heaving.

He takes a step closer, his voice calmer now. "Listen to me. I know this wasn’t the plan, okay? I get it. But I am going pro. You know I’ve been working toward the draft, and my agent is confident I’ll get picked. I’m gonna make it, Y/N. And when I do, we’ll be okay."

She stares at him, shaking her head. "Joe, the draft isn’t guaranteed. What if something goes wrong? What if you don’t get picked? What if—"

"I will," he interrupts, his tone steady. "I will. I’m not just doing this for me anymore—I’m doing it for you. For us. For this baby."

Her bottom lip quivers, but she doesn’t say anything. Joe steps closer, taking her hands in his. "I know you’re scared. Hell, I’m scared too. But we’ve got each other, and I’m going to do whatever it takes to make sure you and this baby are taken care of. I promise you that."

Tears spill over her cheeks as she looks at him. "You’re so sure about everything, but I’m not. My parents are going to see this as the end of my life, Joe. The end of everything I’ve worked for."

He nods, brushing a tear from her cheek with his thumb. "Then we’ll prove them wrong. We’ll show them that this isn’t the end—it’s just a new beginning. You’re still going to graduate, Y/N. You’re still going to chase your dreams. And we’ll figure the rest out together."

She exhales shakily, leaning into him as he wraps his arms around her. "I just… I don’t know how we’re going to do this."

"One step at a time," he says, his voice firm but gentle. "We’ll start by telling our parents. Together."

She pulls back, giving him a doubtful look. "That’s easy for you to say. You’re not the one who has to hear my dad’s lecture about how I’ve ‘thrown my life away.’"

Joe chuckles softly, trying to lighten the mood. "Yeah, but I’ll be right there with you. And if he tries to kill me, I’ll just tell him I’m going pro—maybe that’ll distract him."

Despite herself, Y/N laughs through her tears. "You’re ridiculous."

"Maybe," he says, grinning. "But I love you. And I love this baby, even if it’s the scariest thing that’s ever happened to me."

She looks at him, her expression softening. "I love you too."

He pulls her back into his arms, holding her tightly. For the first time all night, she lets herself believe him.

★

Back in their kitchen, the married couple laughs in unison as they recalled the dinner where they told both of their parents. "Oh my gosh! Daddy almost jumped across that table at you!"

"I was scared!" Joe laughed loudly, covering his mouth when he saw Hudson's head pop up over the top of the couch. "Your dad is very intimidating."

"Well, you survived." Y/N insisted, "And we both know I thought my life was over." Joe playfully frowned, "You were pacing so much before that dinner, babe. I thought you were gonna burn a hole in the carpet."

She flicks a bit of water at him, rolling her eyes. "Well, excuse me for being a little freaked out. It wasn’t exactly a normal Tuesday, you know? We were graduating in three months, broke as hell, and had no idea what we were doing."

Joe nods, his smile softening. "I remember how scared you were about telling your parents. But you know what I remember more?"

"What?" she asks, handing him a clean glass.

"How you still managed to push through all that fear and finish your degree on time. You didn’t let anything stop you, not even two babies kicking your ribs during finals."

Y/N shakes her head, laughing. "Don’t act like you weren’t freaking out too. You spent half the night staring at that pregnancy test like it might change if you looked hard enough."

Joe laughs, drying the glass. "Okay, fair. I was terrified. But I knew we’d figure it out. And look at us now."

Y/N glances around the kitchen, her eyes lingering on the family photos on the fridge—the twins’ school pictures, a shot of the four of them at the beach, and a drawing labeled Mama, Daddy, Hudson, and Elijah.

"Yeah," she says softly, her voice thick with emotion. "We’ve built a pretty amazing life, haven’t we?"

Joe sets the towel down and wraps an arm around her waist, pulling her close. "We have. And those two little terrors in the living room? They’re the best thing that ever happened to us."

Y/N leans into him, resting her head against his chest. "I still can’t believe we were worried about not being ready. I mean, we weren’t—but we figured it out."

Joe kisses the top of her head, his voice low and full of love. "That’s because we’re a team, Y/N. Always have been."

Before she can respond, a loud crash comes from the living room, followed by giggles and a triumphant "Wasn't me!"

Y/N groans, pulling back. "Moment's over."

Joe laughs, grabbing a dish towel. "I’ll check on the damage. You finish up here."

As he heads toward the living room, Y/N watches him go, her heart swelling with gratitude. She turns back to the sink, rinsing the last plate as the sound of Joe’s playful scolding echoes from the other room.

She smiles to herself, thinking back to that night all those years ago. It had been terrifying and uncertain, but it led to this—a life full of love, laughter, and a chaos she wouldn’t trade for the world.

#joe burrow #joe burrow angst #joe burrow blurb #joe burrow fluff #joe burrow fanfic #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow x wife!reader #joe burrow x black reader #cincinnati bengals #joe burrow bengals #dad!joe burrow #nfl imagine

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missmarveledsblog · 8 months ago

Text

Dustin's got a sister? ( Eddie Munson x Henderson!Reader)

summary : friday where DND nothing would stop that except the discovery of Dustin Hendersons older sister of course which leds to eddie wondering if he was wrong about the whole love at first sight thing being crap .

warnings : fluffy fast burn , mutual pinning , eddie being a simp for sure . picture doesn't represent the reader it was just a fic cover i made

Friday meant one thing to Eddie munson and that was Hellfire night . The club were beginning what he could only describe as his best campaign yet ,the loud roars and cheer or cries filled the basement of Dustin Henderson since the older boys graduated it became the new spot . What Eddie didn't know was that the boys were not the only ones in the house as the music upstairs caused them to halt and look to the owner of said basement in confusion .

" It's just my sister , ignore her" he shrugged, wanting to continue but the sudden excitement of Lucas and Mike only made the older boy more curious .

" sister since when do you have a sister" Eddie almost challenged. " since my mom and dad you know and then she was born" Dustin's head tilted knowing he'd mentioned her before .

"and She's smoking hot" Lucas blurted out for Mike Wheeler to nod eagerly in agreement.

" How come we've never seen her around?" Gareth asked .

" because she went to a different school and usually she was with her asshole boyfriend but they broke up also she hangs out with Steve and robin, she also busy with college stuff " Dustin looked around the table seeing all their confused faces.

" Wait, I've never seen her when I hang out with them" Eddie looked at the boy .

" that's because she was with her boyfriend ,I literally just said that" he rolled his eyes.

" hey dusty bun you down there .... Oh shit sorry i forgot you had company" all their eyes landed on the woman standing there hair wrapped in a towel and dressed in shorts and tank top .

" hey Y/N" Lucas waved dreamingly .

" Hey Sinclair," she smiled .

" Hey wanna join," Mike asked.

" I can't tonight. I got a paper due on Monday, just came down to see if Dustin ate , but now the question expands , "Do you guys want pizza?" she smiled bright towards them, eddie could have sworn he had drool coming out of his mouth .

" yeah totally would eat pizza with you" Jeff chin resting in his hands . " Ok pepperoni would be a safe choice right" she looked, seeing them all nod . " ok i shall call when it's here " she ran up the stairs, cheeks heated suddenly aware of her attire and the eyes of the boys roaming her body .

" How the hell is that your sister?" gareth asked, totally in awe .

" Told you , smoking hot" Lucas beamed proudly.

" You asked her to join, why ?" Eddie almost whispered not ready for the answer in fair of his mind short circuiting even more that it was . " because she's the reason that we know how to play" Mike whispered back, sending the group of boys almost into a group of school girls fawning .

" So you're telling me that the smoking hot goddess of a woman is a nerd like us" .

" Can you all please stop calling my sister hot?" Dustin grimaced, suddenly regretting offering his basement for the Hellfire club . when the music changed and the familiar riffs flooded his ear drums .

" Is that?... YOUR HOT SISTER LIKES METAL" Eddie almost roared across the table .

" Is it too late to quit hellfire?" Dustin groaned.

It seemed the campaign was forgotten about after half an hour of questioning. Dustin Henderson was never more grateful for the pizza man's arrival but when she told them to come up he was almost trampled as his friends tried getting up the stairs .

" holy shit you guys must be hungry , no need to panic i got more than enough " she laughed seeing them pushing each other out of the way .

" Totally starving" gareth smiled brightly.

" ok well plates are there and help yourself" she pointed to the counter .

" ladies first" Eddie smiled, arm outstretched .

" Thank you" she moved, grabbing her plate and pizza before heading to the sofa. " I just stuck on halloween if you guys wanna join" she called eyes on the screen not seeing the pushing and shoving happening in the kitchen before eddie smiled victoriously beside her. " I love this movie" he winked .

" I literally only started it so you all aren't missing much ... wait what about the campaign" her head tilted as they all sighed in content.

" Apparently due to hormones it's over" Dustin grumbled sitting on the other side of her .

" Shit sorry that was my fault if I'm being too loud I can go to my room" she offered only for a chorus of no's and don't to fill the room . " you're fine, really we can do it another time apparently" Dustin smiled seeing the worry on her face. Before anyone else could say anything the doorbell went off making her run out to see who it was totally forgetting she invited steve and robin over.

" hey if you can find a place to sit" she led the two in.

" Hey guys," the three kids called.

"Hey Harrington man , nice to see you , how come you never mentioned the sweetheart of a sister Dustin had before" Eddie smiled yet glaring at his friend.

" because Dustin told me not to" he shrugged, heading off to the kitchen .

"Do I embarrass you or something?" She turned to her brother.

" No just you were with that douche before and i didn't want him embarrassing me" he lied easily .

" That's a good point," Robin nodded .

" I hated that guy so much" Steve agreed eagerly as he handed Robin her plate as he sat beside Dustin .

" Ok enough about my ex and let's watch the movie" she huffed, letting her damp nearly dry hair out of the towel . As soon as the lights went out all their attention went to the movie playing well mostly to the movie. Eddie's attention did try to stick to the screen but it often shifted to the girl sitting beside him. wondering how the hell he wasn't a puddle in the chair or if the beating of his heart was audible given how fast it was , was he sweating cause sure as hell felt like it . He watched the light of tv shine on her face, her relaxed state or... shit she grabbed his hand , why was he short circuiting over a girl grabbing his hand .

" Sorry that part always make me jump" she whispered soft laugh spilling from her pillow plump lips , he could of sworn he saw a blush on her face but wasn't sure giving the limited light .

" if you need to grab it again feel free too" he whispered back smiling so wide showing off his dimples .

" thank you munson" now he was hoping more parts would make her jump . her hand in his throughout the movie it turned out his campaign wasn't the highlight of this Friday after all.

Once the movie ended Dustin hit the lights making them all groan at the sudden intrusive brightness . except the light snores filled out the room making them all turn to see the older henderson and eddie passed out cold her head on his shoulder and his hand holding hers .

" Awhh that's so cute" Robin cooed, hiding her amusement.

" Damn it, I was gonna ask her out " Gareth growled, making everyone turn to the boy . " I said that out loud huh?" he stood rubbing the back of his neck .

" Very loud," Steve snorted . "Come on i can drop you guys home" he stretched as the all looked at him wide eyed.

" Seriously "king"Steve Harrington is going to let us be seen with him" Jeff almost gasped out.

" yeah yeah dont cream your pants , come let them sleep" he ushered the gang of still shocked boys out the door. Only for Dustin to slam it shut behind them waking the two .

"Where is everyone?" she asked, confused.

" yeah i remembered more people being here" Eddie rubbed his eyes .

" Steve's dropping them home since you two were all cuddled up in sleepland" .

"Shit i'll go clean up and head out before your mom comes home '' Eddie yawned and stretched ready to head back down to the basement .

"Just stay, she's not home till Sunday," Dustin yelled, heading down to his own room .

" If you want to, I mean we can watch another movie," she smiled nervously was he making her uncomfortable or was it something else.

" Yeah i could totally stay, I got some clothes in my van , let me grab them" he beamed with excitement.

" I'm going for a smoke so i'll come out with you" she grabbed her shoes and jacket pulling out the carton of cigarettes and lighter .

" Lead the way princess" he opened the door letting her walk out first. The night's crisp air hitting them , she stood on the porch as he ran down grabbing the backpack out of his van given his original plan was to sleep at jeff's for the night so wayne could have a night's sleep in his room for once. When he looked back to see she was sitting on what he called the outdoor sofa to rile Dustin up, her eyes looking up at the sky lost in the stars above even then she was the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen . The slow exhale of smoke and she turned to smile at his approaching figure .

" You cold, i can give you my jacket" he was already going to take it off pulling out his own cigarettes.

" no it's not too chilly tonight ,it actually a nice night" she mused moving so he could sit beside her.

"So Dustin mentioned you went to a different school. How come" he asked, wanting to know everything and anything about the woman sitting beside him .

" You don't remember me huh?" she asked, confusing him completely.

" we actually went to the same school til i'd say middle school i changed schools because tommy hagan kinda made my life hell so my mom moved me to a different school since the principle wouldn't do anything about it , i was fat kid with curly ass hair , he called me sparky cause of this'' She shrugged the jacket showing the lightning bolt scar on her arm Making him remember completely who she was.

" shit yeah i remember, i also remember you punching him when he picked on other kids" he mused.

" another reason i had to move schools, the irony of letting myself being their victim and yet seeing ready when i seen them torment someone else " she snorted, tapping the ash of her cigarette .

" Shit i would've never pictured you and Dustin to be siblings," he chuckled.

" Well back then my parents were still married and I wasn't always Henderson" She pointed out.

" Well that also checks out, still i've always thought that scar was metal , how you get it?" .

"Wasn't struck by lightning sadly that would of been cooler no i burned it trying to make my own shield" she giggled. "

That's still metal in my books" he chuckled.

" I guess your right I mean my mom didn't think so in the ER but hey it was good shield think it's still in the garage" throwing the cigarette away , sneaking a quick glance at the most adorable and probably hottest guy she ever met sitting beside her .

" you in college now or ? " he asked .

" yeah just an hour drive away, studying nursing what about you ? " she turned. Her eyes made him completely weak at the knee's .

" apprentice mechanic " she noticed how his smiled didn't quite reach his eyes when he said it .

" well if you ever get hurt on the job call me, I'll come nurse you back to heath " she nudging him playfully there it was a real smile on his pretty face.

" come on we head in or I'll be the nurse when you catch some flu or cold being out here " he stood holding his hand out to help her up .

" wanna was nightmare on elm Street" she asked.

" of course and if you get scared you can hold my hand " he winked as they walked into the house.

" I mean it is scary movie dare I say even terrifying you might get sick of me holding your hand" she teased heading to the other side of the room to grab the tape and a blanket .

" never would I do such a thing " he held his hand over his heart those damn dimples that made her heart skip a beat or the glint of the rings as he held his hand over his heart.

" could you put the movie in , I'll grab the snacks and some drinks " she scurried of the kitchen . Putting the movie on pause before he called to say he was putting some pyjamas on before it got started .

When he came in she had snacks pile on top of each other along with the soda . He could of sworn he caught her checking him out but brushing it off instantly.

" ready" she lifted the blanket up for him to join .

" born ready darling " he hit the lights as the second movie of the night started playing he suddenly felt the,warmth of her palm in his . " just incase I get to scared " she winked now he was one who was grateful for lack of lights cause he was sure he was beet red now.

" better safe the sorry " he whispered his voice almost cracking in the nervous manner of possibly the hottest most beautiful girl he'd met holding his hand ... his goddamned hand . the two say eyes locked on screen itching to look at the person at their side . She inched her way closer as the movie played when jumpscare came on she couldn't help bury her head In his chest . The smell of his cologne and cigarette filled her sense as she felt the vibrations of his laugh as he wrapped his arms around her.

"I'll keep you safe princess " she could feel the almost cocky grin in his words feeling her little plan worked .

" thank you eddie my hero " she cooed looking up through her lashes making his gulp audibly leaning up and a peck to his lips, he was sure to die in his spot . A victory smile she kept her head on his chest while his arm was wrapped around her , she could hear the now steady beating of his heart as he gotten comfortable in the new position his hand rubbing up and down her back . Wasn't long til the two got way to comfortable and feel asleep in each others arms to content to even care .

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yourmomsawh0r3 · 1 month ago

Text

Come Home

pairing: post apocalyptic joel Miller X Wife reader

It started small.

Little things. Short answers. Long silences. Joel snapping at you over nothing leaving early for patrol without a kiss, eating dinner without a word. You told yourself he was just tired. That he had a lot on his plate. That the stress of keeping Jackson safe was pulling him thin.

But it didn’t explain why he only looked at you when he was angry. Or why he hadn’t touched your belly in weeks.

It all came to a head on a Tuesday night, when you asked him if he could pick up more prenatal vitamins while out with Tommy.

“What, I don’t do enough already?” he bit out, slamming his jacket down on the table.

You blinked. “It was just a question.”

He muttered something under his breath and you had enough.

“Do you even love me anymore?”

“What?”

“You heard me, Joel. Do you love me?”

There was a long pause.

“Yes,” he said gruffly.

Your voice broke. “Then show it. Because you’ve been acting like you don’t.”

He didn’t follow when you grabbed your bag. He didn’t stop you when Sarah packed Ellie’s overnight things. He didn’t say a word when you slammed the door behind you.

One and a Half Weeks Later

Joel’s world had been loud. Now it was silent.

He still made coffee for two out of habit. Still reached across the bed, forgetting it was cold and empty. The house was too quiet without Ellie’s music blaring or Sarah’s pencil scratching her sketchbook. The silence was screaming at him.

He hadn’t even kissed your belly goodbye.

Tommy tried talking to him. Maria did, too. He brushed them off. He didn’t know what to say because the truth was worse than anything they could guess:

He missed you so goddamn much it physically hurt.

On the eighth night, he sat down on the bed you made together and finally broke.

The house had never felt like a home without you in it.

Joel went one week and four days without the sound of your voice, without the girls’ laughter bouncing off the walls, without the warmth of your hand reaching for his in the dark. And in that silence, he finally heard everything he hadn’t let himself listen to.

How he’d picked fights. How he’d looked right through you when you were desperate for him to just see you. How he’d been cruel when you were carrying his child and raising two daughters who called him Daddy.

So he went to your parents’ place hat in hand, flowers in the other.

He stood at their front door like a man with nothing left, knuckles scraped from a fence he’d helped rebuild that morning just to keep busy, his voice already trembling before he even spoke.

Your mama opened the door, arms crossed, no smile. “Joel Miller,” she said flatly. “You better have something real good to say.”

“Ma’am,” he rasped. “I know I don’t deserve a damn second of her time. But I..I’m askin’. Please. Just five minutes. I need to see my girls.”

Your dad said nothing from behind her, but he opened the door and motioned silently toward the living room.

You were sitting on the couch in an oversized sweater, Ellie curled against your side, Sarah drawing at the coffee table. Your bump was more visible now, cradled by your hand protectively.

Joel’s breath caught in his throat when he saw you. “Darlin’…” he whispered.

You didn’t get up. You didn’t say his name. But your eyes filled with tears the moment you looked at him.

He knelt.

Right there in the doorway, he dropped to one knee like he’d done years ago when he first asked you to marry him, except this time, his voice was soaked in guilt and love.

“I’ve been an ass. A stubborn, angry, blind man who didn’t see the one thing that’s ever truly mattered to me.

I pushed you away when all you were doing was lovin’ me and this family.

You asked me if I loved you. I said yes, but I didn’t show it and I hate myself for that.

I just… things get loud in my head sometimes. And instead of lettin’ you in, I shut the door and act like you’re the enemy. You’re not. You’re never the enemy.

You’re my girl. You always have been.

And Sarah and Ellie… I miss ‘em. I miss their laughter. I miss your humming in the kitchen. I miss you yellin’ at me for leavin’ my boots by the door.

I miss touchin’ your belly at night, feelin’ our baby kick. God, darlin’, I’m so sorry I let myself get so far away from all of it. From you.

This whole week I’ve been sleepin’ in a house that feels like a stranger’s place, because my home ,my home is wherever you are. Wherever our girls are.

And I know I don’t deserve it, but I’m askin’… please, sweetheart. Let me try to fix this. Let me earn my way back to you.”

He placed the flowers on the coffee table like an offering.

“I miss you. I miss Sarah rollin’ her eyes at me. I miss Ellie yellin’ when I steal her toast. I miss talkin’ to our baby even if she can’t hear me yet.

I miss my wife.”

Tears ran down his cheeks, and your girls went quiet Ellie’s jaw clenched and Sarah’s eyes were wide.

You looked at him Joel Miller, your stubborn, complicated husband. You saw the cracks in his armor, the ones you’d been begging him to let show. And for the first time in weeks, he let you in.

You didn’t rush into his arms. You didn’t melt into him like in some dream. You simply looked down and said softly, “You can stay. For dinner.”

It was a start.

You were sitting on the back porch of your parents’ house, a blanket wrapped around your belly, cradling a warm cup of tea while the morning sun lit your face. Joel sat beside you in silence, like he’d done every day that week, content just to be near.

You finally looked at him and said softly, “I think we’re ready to come home.”

Joel didn’t say a word at first. He blinked once. Twice.

Then his hand reached for yours worn and calloused and trembling and he held it against his lips.

“You sure, baby?” he rasped.

You nodded. “I miss our home. I miss our bed. I miss… you.”

Joel closed his eyes. “I’ll go get your things.”

Joel hadn’t moved that fast since his patrol days. He borrowed your parents’ wagon and hitched it to one of the horses, riding into town with a strange mix of nervous energy and reverence.

The house was still exactly how you left it.

He walked through slowly, fingers brushing over the backs of chairs, the edge of the couch, the framed photo of the five of you at the community festival last spring.

“We’re gettin’ our girls back,” he whispered to the empty room.

Upstairs, he stepped into Ellie’s room. The bed was still unmade. Her jacket was thrown over the desk chair, and her favorite book was flipped open on the nightstand.

Joel folded each item carefully her comic books, her flashlight, the patched-up hoodie you had sewn for her all packed neatly into her backpack.

Then Sarah’s room. Her sketchbook was left open on a half-finished portrait of you. He smiled, ran a thumb over the corner, and packed it gently in her bag along with her favorite sweater and the green barrettes she always lost in the couch cushions.

He paused at the door to the nursery.

Your half-decorated baby room.

He stepped inside, picked up the tiny onesie that read “Little Miller” and swallowed hard. He placed it on the dresser and whispered, “We’re waitin’ on you, little one”

The girls squealed when they saw him.

“Dad!” Ellie grinned, jumping onto the porch. “You got my comics?”

“Every single one,” Joel said, chucking her under the chin. “Even the ones you think I don’t know you stole from the market.”

“You don’t know anything,” she teased, hugging him tighter.

“I know I missed ya, baby girl .”

Sarah came next, hugging him longer, wordlessly. He cupped the back of her head.

Then you stepped out, wrapped in that same porch blanket, tears in your eyes.

Joel came to you slowly, held out his hand like it was your first dance all over again. “Ready to come home, darlin’?”

You nodded and smiled. “Yeah. Let’s go home.”

Joel helped you into the wagon like you were made of glass, one hand on your lower back, the other braced for any stumble. You settled between Sarah and Ellie while he drove the horse slowly back toward town.

As you pulled up to your house, Ellie gasped. “Did you clean the place?”

“Of course I did,” Joel said. “Even scrubbed the toilets. That’s how serious I was about gettin’ my girls home.”

That week, he helped your dad fix the barn doors. He drove your mama to the market. He sat with Sarah while she read aloud and played cards with Ellie, losing every round on purpose just to hear her laugh.

He didn’t ask for anything. He just showed up.

He ran you a bath one night after your back started hurting and waited outside the door just in case you needed help. He kissed your forehead as you fell asleep on the couch a barely-there press of lips, reverent and apologetic.

And slowly, your walls softened.

You came home together.

The house was warm again. Lived in. Ellie decorated the nursery wall with sketches of dinosaurs and fireflies. Sarah played music in the kitchen while Joel slow danced with you to a song on the old record player, one hand on your waist, the other resting over your belly.

“You feel that?” you whispered one night, guiding his hand as the baby kicked.

Joel smiled, eyes glassy. “That’s my girl,” he murmured. “My little fighter. Just like her mama.”

Later, when you were curled up in bed, he kissed the stretch marks on your hips, your shoulder, your hand.

Joel started rubbing your feet, you looked at him through sleepy eyes.

“You did good, Joel.”

He pressed a kiss to your ankle, then your belly.

“I’ll never make you doubt it again,” he whispered into your skin. “Not ever. You’re mine, and I’ll love you every damn day ‘til my last breath.”

And for the first time in what felt like forever, you believed it.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller #joelmiller x reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller imagine #joel miller fanfiction #joel tlou #pedroispunk #pedro pascal is hot #pedro pascal fanfiction #pascalispunk

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flickering-chandelier · 1 year ago

Text

Long Story Short

Pairing: Single Dad Cassian x Bestie Reader

Synopsis: Cassian loved Reader for as long as he could remember, but there never seemed to be any opportunity for more. Then what was meant to be a random one night stand ends with Cassian, alone, with a baby in his arms. Throughout this new journey in his life, Reader is there for him in ways that he never could have expected.

Based on this request! 🩷

Warnings: smut, pregnancy, swearing, a lil angst, mutual pining

Word Count: 6k

Cassian’s heart ached as he watched you settle in beside your lover, his arm slinging around your shoulders, your smile bright and loving as you looked at him, in your own little world as your friends talked and laughed at the table around you.

He hated it when you brought him along to what he considered to be family functions, meant for the people Cassian loved. And that asshole certainly did not fit into that category.

Okay, he could concede that this guy wasn’t that bad. But, he certainly wasn’t good enough for you. Nobody ever could be, but certainly not Zaden.

Cassian knew he wasn’t good enough for you either, but he would try his damn hardest to be everything you needed if you ever gave him the chance. He had loved you so intensely for so long, he couldn’t imagine how you hadn’t already figured it out. He felt like the whole world dimmed in your presence, with you standing out in vibrant color against everything else.

Suddenly, Azriel nudged him subtly with his elbow, and Cassian came back to real life, to the one where you loved him as a friend and nothing more, where you went to Zaden’s bed every night --

Rhysand was looking at him expectantly. Cassian cleared his throat. “Sorry, what did you say?”

“I asked how training is going in the mountains,” Rhysand purred, clearly amused to catch Cassian in the middle of a daydream.

He was glad for the distraction, and gave them all updates about how the Illyrian armies were shaping up, before suffering through the rest of dinner with you across from him.

Cassian bolted out of his seat as soon as the plates were cleared, heading into the city, needing fresh air, needing some kind of distraction that would make his heart stop hurting for just a little bit.

He ended up at a bar, tossing back glass after glass of amber liquid until a stranger sat right next to him, her arm brushing against his as she settled on top of the stool.

When he looked at her, her eyes were already locked on his, her mouth curved into a sultry smile. She was beautiful, he had to admit. Not as beautiful as you obviously, but attractive nevertheless.

She turned fully towards him, making small talk as she brushed her fingers along his arm.

And he thought this could be a damn good distraction.

---

Weeks later, you burst through Cassian’s door, tears in your eyes.

Cassian stood up immediately, and you ran to him, burying your face in his chest as he held you close. “What is it?” he asked.

“Zaden broke up with me,” you sniffed.

He held you tighter, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “What? Why?”

You groaned. “He said it just wasn’t working.”

“I’m so sorry,” he said, tilting your chin up so he could look at you. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Can we just hang out today?” You asked. “Is that okay?”

“Of course it is,” he said, his heart leaping that he was the one you ran to.

For the rest of the day, the two of you lounged around, and Cassian was doing everything he could to make you feel better.

When the sun dipped below the horizon, you were settled under his arm, your head against his chest. “I can’t believe I wasn’t good enough for him,” you said quietly.

“No, don’t do that,” he said, and you tilted your head up to look at him curiously. “You’re the most amazing woman I’ve ever met.”

“Cassian,” you whispered.

“I mean it,” he murmured. Surely, you had to know. After all this time, how could you not see it?

Your breath hitched, your gaze dipping to Cassian’s lips for a moment.

Then you were leaning toward him, your lips gently meeting his. He sucked in a breath, and shifted you so you were sitting on top of him. You were holding his face in your hands, kissing him and this is all he’s ever wanted, and he longed to melt into you and stay there forever, but…

He pulled back from you, his heart breaking. “You’re sad and you’re vulnerable. We shouldn’t.”

“Cassian,” you said, your voice breaking. “Have you ever thought about… us?”

His heart lurched, his mind reeling, trying to decide how much to tell you. “Of course I have,” he said quietly, running his thumb lightly across your cheekbone.

Something like hope flickered in your eyes, and Cassian’s heart swelled. “You have?” You whispered.

Cassian almost laughed, years of pining over you flashing through his mind. He couldn’t stop himself from leaning in and kissing you softly. “You’re incredible,” was all he could manage.

You laughed lightly. “So are you…” Your voice trailed off, your eyes darting away from his, a habit he knew meant you were trying to find the courage to say something. After a moment, your eyes locked on his again and you said softly, “Maybe we could be incredible together.”

Your name rushed out of Cassian’s mouth like a gasp before he could stop it. His heart sank into his stomach. He wanted you. Of course he did. But he didn’t want to be your rebound, the one you only noticed right after someone else had broken your heart. He wanted to be your first choice, the only one that mattered.

He ran his thumb along your cheekbone. “If you really want to give us a shot… I think we should wait. Your emotions are all over the place right now, and I don’t --” he stopped short.

Your eyes were swimming with pain as you looked at him, your hands on his shoulders. It broke his heart. “You don’t what?” you whispered.

I don’t want to get my hopes up. I don’t want you to hurt me, because I wouldn’t survive it. Not from you.

He swallowed. “I just think we should wait a few weeks. Give yourself time to get over Zaden.”

You slid off his lap and stood up, hardly looking at him. “Okay,” you said quietly.

And without another word, you were gone.

Cassian prayed to the Mother that he hadn’t just fucked up his one chance.

---

A few days later, Cassian was still reeling from what you said. You had barely spoken since then, which was putting him even more on edge.

Multiple times, he had contemplated throwing his dignity out the window and running to you, begging you to forget everything he had said and be with him already.

But he wouldn’t do it. If he was going to be with you, he had to know it was because you actually wanted him.

He ended up back at the bar that night, to drink away his problems, to soothe the anxiety he felt every time he thought of you just the slightest bit.

Cassian had been sitting there for about an hour when a woman sidled up to him. He was about to brush her away, not in the mood, until he realized he knew her. It was his hookup from weeks ago.

“Oh hey,” he said, wondering if she would even remember him. “Lana, right?”

She nodded, shooting him a tight smile that was nothing at all like the one he remembered. “I’m glad I ran into you. We -- umm. We need to talk.”

The tone in her voice sent him immediately on edge. He straightened, turning to face her fully. “About what?”

Lana winced slightly and that’s when it hit him. He didn’t pick up on it at first in the crowded room, but he could scent it now. “You’re pregnant,” he blurted.

“Yes,” she said quietly, looking at him sheepishly. “It’s yours.”

“You’re sure?” Cassian choked out, his mind reeling.

“Trust me, I’m sure,” she ground out.

“Wow.” He said. “Okay. Wow. This is -- Cauldron, this is…”

“Insane?” she offered.

He nodded, in a daze. “Sure. That works.”

Lana stayed silent, watching Cassian digest it.

“I mean, I’m happy, I think,” Cassian said. “I’ve always wanted a family someday, and children are such a blessing. I just didn’t think it would be…now.”

“With a stranger,” she added.

“Right.” He turned to Lana then, feeling like a complete idiot. “Gods, how are you feeling about all this?”

She smiled weakly. “About the same, I think. I hadn’t really thought about it, to be honest. Being a mom, I mean. Children are so rare, it wasn't ever something I really considered. But, I’m happy, I think. To have a baby.”

“Okay,” he said, nodding. “So… what do we do?”

Lana shrugged. “I have no idea.”

Cassian was almost embarrassed about what he was about to say. “We should… date, right? We should be a family?”

A slow smile lit up Lana’s face. “A family. I like that idea.”

“Me too,” he said.

And that’s when Cassian remembered you. And what you had said. And the chance that he had just lost.

But then he thought of the baby. His baby, his child.

Maybe dreams could change. And maybe that was okay.

---

You had never been so embarrassed in your life. You understood where Cassian was coming from, of course. You understood how it looked, running right to him after Zaden had dumped you.

But, his rejection still stung.

Cassian had been a near constant in your life for the past few decades, to the point where now you couldn’t even imagine how you had made it through anything without him.

It wasn’t until more recently, when things with Zaden had started to go downhill, that you thought maybe it would be wonderful if your relationship with Cassian… changed.

He was a good man. Endlessly attractive? Of course. Hilariously funny? You thought so, anyway. But, his heart. When you really sat down and thought about it, you realized you didn’t know anyone better on the planet.

And to top it all off, he was your best friend. You already had such a strong foundation, you imagined it would be remarkably easy to fall into something else, something deeper.

So, when he was holding you and calling you incredible, and looking at you in that way that only he ever has, you laid it on the line. You took the chance.

And it had completely backfired.

He hadn’t said no, exactly. Just not right now. But wasn’t that the same thing?

A loud knock on your door roused you from your thoughts.

You knew who it was before you even opened the door, but you weren’t expecting him to look so frazzled. You had never seen Cassian look like he wasn’t in control.

“What’s going on?” You asked.

He barreled into your apartment, barely stopping to look at you. He ran both his hands through his hair, and your eyes lingered for a second on the way his biceps flexed as he did so. You had to blink to force yourself to focus back on his face.

“I’m going to be a dad.”

You laughed, but when he faced you fully, his eyes full of panic, you sobered. “Wait, you’re being serious?”

His jaw was clenched. “Completely serious. I hooked up with someone at a bar a few weeks ago. And she’s pregnant.”

“Cassian,” you breathed. It was all you could say.

“I know,” he said, and his expression became pained as he looked at you. “We’re going to try to be together. To be a family, for the baby.”

And that’s when you realized, he wasn’t just here because you were his best friend and he needed to talk to someone. He was here to tell you it wasn’t going to happen between the two of you. Ever.

You swallowed, trying to keep your voice even. “I’m here for you. Whatever you need, okay? I mean it.”

He looked so incredibly relieved that your heart swelled with love. “I’m so sorry. I know we said--”

“It’s okay,” you cut him off, unable to hear him say it. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter,” he said softly, stepping forward and taking your hand in his. “It’s just -- I wasn’t expecting this.”

“I know,” you murmured, trying to keep your tears in. “You should be a family.”

His eyes softened. “I’m sorry,” he said again, his voice breaking.

“Don’t be,” you whispered.

It wasn’t until much later, after Cassian left, that you let yourself sob until your eyes burned, until your head was throbbing.

You had your chance. And now it was gone.

---

It was a while before things felt normal between you and Cassian again.

And as far as Cassian and Lana… well, it wasn’t exactly the epic romance that Cassian had always hoped to find. They got along, they had fun. But Cassian couldn’t help but wish there was more of a spark.

Maybe when the baby came, he thought. Maybe when they had this beautiful little life to bond over and protect together.

But that worried him, too. As much as Lana said she was on board, he could tell she wasn’t as happy as he was. She had mentioned more than once that she never saw herself as a mother. And Cassian had no idea what it was to be a good dad -- what the hell were they going to do? What if they messed everything up?

As the due date drew closer, he could tell Lana was getting even more anxious, which was to be expected. Right?

When the due date was only days away, Cassian met up with Lana and immediately he could tell that something was wrong. She was wringing her hands nervously, trepidation coursing through every part of her.

“I can’t do it,” she blurted out, before Cassian could say so much as a greeting.

“What?”

“I can’t be a mother,” she said, tears suddenly streaming down her face. “I can’t play house with you. I can’t give this baby a good life. I can’t do it, Cassian.”

Cassian was suddenly furious. “What? You’re telling me this now?”

“I thought I could get used to the idea. I thought maybe if you and I fell in love, it would make it easier, but we're not. And we’re not going to be, are we?”

He sighed, running his hand through his hair. “No, I don’t think so.”

“See?” she said. “We’re fooling ourselves if we really think the three of us could be a real family.”

“That’s bullshit,” he seethed. “We don’t have to be romantically together to be a family. To be there for our kid.”

“I don’t want to be,” she spat. “Don’t you get it? I don’t want this baby. I never did.”

Cassian reeled back a step, like she had slapped him. “You’re going to abandon your child?”

“It doesn’t feel like mine,” she whispered. “I don’t want it.”

He couldn’t stand to hear anymore, and didn’t want to be around to say something he would surely regret. Instead, he stormed past her, out into the night.

---

“She said what?”

You were furious, pacing back and forth in your apartment.

“I’m going to be raising this kid on my own,” Cassian said, panicked. “What the fuck.”

“No, you won’t be,” you said, taking his hands in yours, trying to steady him, forcing him to face you. “I’m here. Rhysand and Feyre can help. I’m sure Az will help when he’s here --”

“I appreciate that, but it’s not the same,” he said sadly. “I can’t believe this is happening. I am not prepared for this.”

“I know,” you said quietly. “I’m so sorry, Cass.”

He sighed, leaning down to rest his forehead against yours. Despite everything, despite how long it had been since there had been any possibility of something more between the two of you, your heart leaped at the contact. “What am I going to do?” He whispered.

“Take it one day at a time,” you said softly. “You’ll be okay.”

You prayed that it was true.

---

Unsurprisingly, as soon as the baby was born, Lana hit the road without so much as a goodbye. Everyone rallied around Cassian for the first several weeks, you more than anyone.

Cassian was exhausted, more terrified than he had ever been in his life, but also more in love than he could have ever thought possible.

She was his whole world, the little bundle in his arms. She was the only thing that mattered.

“I can take Asteria for a bit,” you said. “You should rest.”

It was the middle of the night. He had for all intents and purposes, moved into the river house, and you had basically moved in too. There was always someone around him, which he was endlessly grateful for, but he felt guilty that his whole family had essentially put their lives on hold for him, especially you.

“It’s okay,” he grumbled. “I got it.”

“Cassian, when was the last time you slept?”

He paused, trying to remember.

“If you don’t know, it’s been too long,” you said gently as you came up to stand next to him, resting your hand on his shoulder.

Cassian leaned into your touch for a moment before he sighed and passed Asteria to you. “I won’t be long,” he said.

He passed out right there on the bed.

When he woke up, the sun was shining through the window.

Cassian sat bolt upright in bed, and there you were, sitting in the rocking chair in the corner of the room with his daughter in your arms, freshly clothed.

“Afternoon, sunshine,” you chirped, smiling.

“Afternoon? I was out that long?”

“You needed it,” you said.

“You should have woken me up,” he grumbled.

“This is a team effort, remember? I love you, Cassian. I want to help.”

And for about the millionth time in his life, he thanked the Mother that he had you.

---

Asteria bounded out the front door, crashing into your legs, holding you tight with a grin. “You’re here!”

“Of course I’m here! I’m here all the time, you goof,” you teased, brushing some windswept curly hair out of her face.

“Will you come color with me? Dad and Uncle Azzie were coloring with me, but they’re not very good,” she said, her voice dropping conspiratorially.

“Well, sweetheart, we all have our different ways of expressing art,” you said, trying to hold back your laugh. “But, yes of course, I will color with you.”

She took your hand and led you inside. You shot an apologetic glance back to your boyfriend Landon, who followed you with a small smile. He wasn’t quite used to Asteria and Nyx yet.

You followed Asteria into the kids’ playroom at the river house, where the whole family was meeting for dinner tonight. Cassian, Azriel, and Nyx were sitting on the floor, all coloring with crayons and pencils.

Asteria motioned to Cassian’s and Azriel’s artwork, which just looked to you like random splotches of color. “See?” she whispered to you.

“See what?” Cassian grinned at the two of you.

Laughing, you said, “Asteria was just telling me about the art you and Uncle Azriel were creating.”

Azriel’s mouth quirked up into a tiny smile, looking fondly at Asteria. “You were making fun of our masterpieces, weren’t you?”

“Nooooo,” she said, grinning.

Slowly, his eyes locked on her, Azriel stood up. Asteria froze beside you. Then immediately he was across the room and had her in his arms, turning her upside down and jogging around the room while she squealed with delight. “You should always stay a terrible liar, kid,” he teased.

Grinning, you sat down at the table next to Cassian, and Landon settled in next to you, somewhat awkwardly.

Soon, you were all coloring contentedly, Asteria and Nyx talking all of your ears off.

“Would you be able to pick Asteria up from daycare tomorrow?” Cassian asked you quietly. “I have to go to the mountains for a bit, and I’m not sure what time I’ll get back.”

“Of course,” you said, and felt Landon shift slightly beside you.

Cassian glanced at him, a muscle in his jaw ticking.

You fought the urge to sigh. Cassian and Landon didn’t get along, even though you had been dating for nearly a year. It was exhausting. Landon thought that Cassian relied on you too much to raise “his” kid. Cassian thought Landon wasn’t understanding enough about the situation. It had led to many fights between you and Landon, mostly because you usually sided with Cassian.

Mercifully, Rhysand walked in then, announcing that it was time for dinner.

“Wow!” Rhysand said dramatically, kneeling in front of her. “That is beautiful. Much better than what the grownups at the table accomplished.”

“Uncle Rhys! Look at my picture!” Asteria beamed, holding her paper high above her head.

“Not you too,” Cassian groaned. “I was going for an abstract piece!”

Rhysand chuckled, “Maybe we can have Aunt Feyre give your dad some art lessons, what do you think?”

Asteria’s eyes widened. “That is a great idea.”

You all laughed as you filed into the dining room and settled in for dinner, pleasant chatter filling the room as you dug into the food in front of you.

Everything was going well, even Landon was socializing with everyone.

Until, Asteria looked at you, casually saying, “Can you pass the potatoes, mom?”

Everyone glanced at you, but kept chatting as you passed the plate to her.

Landon stiffened beside you, and Cassian’s eyes locked on yours across the table for a moment, his expression unreadable.

The rest of the dinner went by fairly smoothly, except for Landon not saying a word to anyone for the rest of the night.

Cassian pulled you into a hug as you were leaving, murmuring in your ear, “Good luck.”

You laughed and Landon raised his eyebrow at you.

It wasn’t until the two of you made it back to your apartment that Landon finally turned to you, his eyes on fire. “You’re seriously just going to act like it didn’t happen?”

“What?” You asked, already annoyed. “It wasn’t a big deal.”

“She called you mom.”

“So?” Honestly, it warmed your heart that Asteria saw you that way.

“You’re not her mom. This is what I’m talking about, Cassian takes advantage of you,” he said, his voice raising.

“Don’t talk about him like that. He’s my family, Landon. Everything I do, I offer to do because I love them,” you said, your temper rising. “That’s not taking advantage.”

He shook his head, exasperated. “I don’t think I can do this anymore. You and Cassian -- It’s too weird.”

“It’s too weird?”

“Oh, come on,” he said angrily. “Don’t act like you don’t know that he’s in love with you. No wonder he wants you to play house with him so often.”

Your heart lurched. Cassian and you hadn’t talked about the possibility of something more since that night ages ago, before Lana, before Asteria. After Lana and Cassian had called it off, you thought that maybe something would happen, but Cassian had never brought it up again, and you had assumed that he didn’t feel that way anymore. You pushed through it, helping him in any way that you could. But, you never quite stopped having those feelings, couldn’t help but let your mind wander to what could have been every once in a while.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said finally.

Landon let out a humorless laugh. “And you’re kidding yourself.”

“Leave then,” you spat. “We're done.”

As he left, all you could think about was Cassian and Asteria. And what you really wanted out of life.

---

Cassian was carefully braiding Asteria’s hair when you stopped by a few days later.

“Braids before bedtime?” You asked, smiling as you leaned against the door frame, watching Cassian's rough hands gently running his daughter's hair through his fingers.

“I want my hair to be curly tomorrow!” Asteria smiled.

“Good thing your dad got so good at braids, huh?”

Cassian smiled at you warmly as he tied the end of her braid.

“You ready for bed, honey?” Cassian asked.

Asteria nodded, but looked at you. “Can you put me to bed?”

Your heart swelled, and you looked to Cassian, who nodded, his eyes swimming with affection.

“Of course,” you said, following her to her bedroom in Cassian's apartment.

You tucked Asteria into bed, and she looked up at you, looking contemplative. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure, what is it?” You asked, surprised by how serious she was being.

“Are you mad that I accidentally called you mom? I didn't mean to, it just came out,” she said.

“No, I'm not mad,” you said, surprised. “Did I seem mad?”

“You didn't, but… Landon did.”

Your heart broke a little. “Oh sweetheart, I'm sorry he made you feel like that. You don't need to worry about him. I won't be seeing him anymore.”

Asteria looked surprised. “It's just… you kind of are my mom. You do all the things that other kids’ moms do.”

You smiled, taking your hand in hers for a moment. “I do?”

She nodded. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. And you can call me whatever you want, okay?”

Asteria beamed, leaning back into her pillow. “Okay.”

You said goodnight, and found Cassian lingering in the hallway, his eyes slightly wide.

“What happened with you and Landon?” He asked.

You sighed, walking with him to the living room, out of Asteria's earshot. “Nothing. It doesn't matter.”

He raised an eyebrow as the two of you settled on opposite chairs, facing each other. “It was because of that night at dinner, wasn't it? Because of what Asteria said?”

You bit your lip, hesitating, unsure how he would react to the truth.

The lack of response was enough for him to figure it out. He scoffed angrily. “You've got to be kidding me. Cauldron, I always hated that guy.”

“I know you two didn't get along--”

“That's an understatement,” Cassian growled. His hands were gripping the chair’s armrests so tightly, you thought he might break it.

“What are you so worked up about?” You asked. “If you hated him so much, shouldn't you be glad that we broke up?”

“I'm worked up because I'll never understand what you could have possibly seen in him,” he seethed, his eyes boring into yours. “Explain it to me. Please.”

You looked at him incredulously. “Explain what?”

“Why you stayed with him! Why you liked him in the first place!”

He was furious and for the life of you, you couldn't understand why. “I don't know,” you said, searching for an answer that would be enough for him. “We hit it off at first, and I guess the problems we had seemed small until they weren't anymore.”

Cassian's eyes narrowed as he looked at you. “That's it? You hit it off, and that's why you stayed with him? Gods, he was never good enough for you,” he said, rising from his chair and looking down at you, his eyes on fire.

You rose too, stepping up to him, still confused by his anger, but it spurred on some of your own. “Who would be then, Cassian? Since you clearly know what's best for me, who would be good enough for me?”

“I would!” He roared.

Your heart stopped. Your face must have shown your shock because his body relaxed, exhausted. He was breathing heavily as he looked back into your eyes and said quietly, “I would be. I would try my hardest to be.”

“Cassian,” you whispered.

“You're my family,” he said gruffly. “You, me, and Asteria. The three of us, we're a family. And… gods, I've loved you for so long,” he said, his eyes swimming with pain, with want.

“Why didn't you ever say anything?” The words came out like a plea.

He loosed out a breath. “You were always with someone. And then when you finally showed interest in me, Lana showed up… and by the time we had ended it, I had a baby to worry about. I didn't have the energy to think about anything but her. When she was older and I was thinking about that aspect of my life again, you were with Landon! When was I supposed to tell you?”

Your head was spinning. “I -- Cassian,” you choked out.

And then you surged forward, taking his face in your hands and pulling him to you, kissing him the way you had been wanting to for ages.

---

Cassian wasn't sure if he was breathing. He didn't mean to lose it with you like that, to lay it all on the line, but picturing you with that jerk who hated him and his daughter made him see red.

The fact that he broke up with you because his daughter loved you so much made him see red.

So, he lost it. And he finally, finally told you the truth.

And now he was holding you in his arms, and your hands were on his face and your lips were on his and he didn't think he was breathing.

He groaned your name, pulling you closer into him, his hands roaming down your sides, wrapping around to grip your ass.

You jumped into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist and he couldn't help but smile into the kiss, carrying you through the hallway into his bedroom.

Slowly, he laid you down onto the bed, leaning over you as you sunk into the mattress, kissing down your throat. You sighed his name and he nuzzled his face into your neck.

Your fingers curled around his bicep, and into his hair. “I love you, Cassian,” you said softly. “I've loved you for a long time.”

He pulled back to look at you, his thumb running across your cheek. “The people you dated?” He asked.

Your eyes softened as you gazed up at him. “I didn't think you were interested. I was trying to… move on.”

Cassian laughed humorlessly, letting his forehead rest against yours. “Guess we kept missing our window, huh?”

“Not anymore,” you said, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into another kiss.

“Let's not waste anymore time,” he said against your mouth.

You immediately clawed at his chest, working his shirt off. He laughed, helping you pull it over his head.

Heat ran through his entire body at the look in your eyes as you stared at the exposed skin of his chest, his arms.

He reached for you, but you sat up and caught his wrists, forcing his arms to his sides. You looked mesmerized as you traced a finger along his collarbone, then ran your hand down his chest, across his abs, down to his waistline, stopping at the top of his pants.

Cassian sucked in a breath as you toyed with his pants, your eyes trained on his body.

“You're drooling now, just wait til you get my pants off,” he teased.

Your eyes flicked to his, darkened with lust.

That look set him off. He growled, taking your face in his hands and kissing you hard. You gasped into his mouth, and he took your hand in his, settling it on his bulge.

You gripped him through his pants, stroking up and down lightly. He groaned, bucking his hips.

“Off,” you mumbled against his lips, tugging at his pants.

“Whatever you want, sweetheart,” he said, and rose from the bed before letting his pants drop to the floor, kicking them behind him.

Your eyes were wide as he stood bare before you.

He laughed lightly, then sauntered over to you, tugging on your hand to stand you up next to him. “I think you need to catch up to me,” he murmured, reaching to pull your shirt over your head.

His breath caught as his eyes raked down your body. He pulled you against him, kissing down your neck, down your chest, running his hands down your sides, pulling your pants off slowly.

You gasped quietly as he wrapped his hands around the backs of your thighs, picking you up and laying you down on the bed, hovering over you, kissing you deeply as his hands roamed your body.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve dreamed about this,” he groaned against your skin.

“Show me,” you said quietly, your hands scanning down his back.

Cassian didn’t need to be told twice. He lined himself up at your entrance and slid into you slowly.

The two of you moaned in tandem as he filled you completely. His eyes were locked on yours as he started moving inside you, slowly at first, but his thrusts became deeper and harder the longer you clung to him, the more gasps and mewls that you made.

He twined his fingers with yours, holding your hands above your head as he pounded into you, gazing down at you.

You bit your lip when your legs started shaking and Cassian grinned. “Don’t wake up the kid,” he smirked.

“Cassian,” you whined.

You glared at him and he laughed, gently covering your mouth with his hand as you came undone, your legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him even deeper and he groaned, finishing inside you.

He collapsed on top of you, both of you breathing heavily. Cassian kissed your forehead before nuzzling his face in your neck.

“I can’t believe this is real,” he said wistfully as he rolled off of you, brushing the stray hairs off your face, tucking them behind your ear.

“But it is,” you smiled.

The look in your eyes, the utter love and affection made his heart race. After all this time, he had you in his arms. And he wouldn’t let anything screw up this chance he’d been given.

---

“Mom,” Asteria whined from outside. “Uncle Rhys isn’t sharing!”

Rhysand gasped dramatically. “You’re tattling on me?”

She giggled, covering her mouth with her hands.

“What isn’t Uncle Rhys sharing with you?” You asked, waddling out to the doorway, your hand resting on your swollen belly.

“It’s my turn!” Rhysand claimed, holding Asteria’s new ball above his head.

You laughed at your ridiculous family. “Asteria, honey, it sounds like you’re the one who’s not sharing.”

Asteria crossed her arms over her chest, frowning. “Fine. Uncle Rhys can play with my new toy.”

“That’s very nice of you,” Cassian called to her, wrapping his arms around you from behind, lovingly placing a hand over yours on your stomach. “How’re you two doing?” He murmured in your ear.

You couldn’t help but smile, leaning into his touch. Cassian had always been protective of you, but since you had gotten pregnant, he had barely left your side. “The same as the last time you asked two minutes ago,” you teased.

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “Glad to hear it.”

You turned in his arms, holding his face in your hands and kissing him sweetly. “I love you,” you smiled.

“I love you,” he grinned, leaning in to kiss you again.

“And I love you!” Asteria beamed, bounding up to the two of you.

Cassian grinned, scooping her up into his arms, bringing her into a group hug. “And my baby brother,” she added, patting your belly gently.

“One big happy family,” Cassian murmured, gazing at the two of you, his eyes twinkling with all the love in the world.

@loving-and-dreaming @birdsflyhome @hanuh @sheblogs @iambored24601 @thalia-as-blog @ecliphttlunar @melmo567 @headacheseason @yourqueenlilith @halibshepherd @azrielshadows1nger @cigvrette-dvydrevms @evergreenlark @bookloverandalsocats @sillysillygoose444 @mariamay02 @andreperez11 @lilah-asteria @marina468

#acotar fic #acotar one shot #acotar x reader #ACOTAR fanfiction #ACOTAR fic #cassian x reader #Cassian x you #Cassian one shot #Cassian fanfic #Cassian actoar #Cassian fluff #Cassian smut #cassian x reader smut #cassian fic #cassian acotar #request

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takeyrregrets · 2 months ago

Note

I loved the platonic one, is there anyway you could do something similar but instead of foster dad it’s a police officer that’s always there for the delinquent kid because he’s noticed things that hint at his bad home life and eventually takes him in after being sent to the teens house for a domestic call? Only if your comfortable!

'𝗕𝗮𝗱' 𝗞𝗶𝗱 𝗢𝗳𝗳𝗶𝗰𝗲𝗿 & 𝗗𝗲𝗹𝗶𝗾𝘂𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝗧𝗲𝗲𝗻 𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 I love writing platonic stuff...does that say something abt my family life? Most likely

He always seemed to be around, didn’t he?

Every time the cuffs went on—whether it was for something you did or something they just assumed you did—he was there. Calm. Steady. Different. Not like the others who looked at you like a lost cause, like trash that needed to be cleaned off the streets. No, he looked at you like he saw something more. Like he was trying to see something more.

He never said much. But he always asked the right questions.

“Did you eat today?” “Where’s that bruise from?” “You sure you’re okay walking home alone?”

You hated how your voice always cracked when you answered. How your hands itched with shame when you lied. How you wanted to tell him everything, even when you didn’t have the words for it. You didn’t ask for him to care. You didn’t need him to.

At least, that’s what you told yourself.

But then the call came in.

He didn’t even know it was your address until dispatch said your name over the radio. Something in him just snapped. He was the first one through the door, before backup even had their boots on. And he saw it—the broken lamp, the overturned table, the way you flinched when someone raised their voice.

He saw you, curled up small in the corner, hands shaking and eyes wide, like you were bracing for another hit that hadn’t come yet.

And he broke. Not loudly. Not violently. But something inside him cracked, permanent and quiet. A decision. A promise.

That night, you didn't go back home.

Not to the blood-stained carpet or the smell of beer on breath. Not to the shouting and the doors slammed too hard. No, that night, you sat in the passenger seat of his cruiser, a borrowed hoodie draped over your shoulders. His.

“You’re not going back there,” he said. Firm. Like a vow. “Not again.”

You didn’t say anything at first. You just stared out the window, waiting for the catch. Waiting for him to change his mind. But he didn’t.

He brought you to a small apartment—modest, but warm. He made you tea, handed you a blanket, and didn’t ask you to explain a single thing. You slept on his couch that night, eyes still red, mind still racing.

And when you woke up the next morning, he was there. Making breakfast.

“You like eggs?” he asked, like this was normal. Like this was just life now.

You didn’t know what to say. You just stared, before he smiled and turned his head back towards the pan. As if he read your mind. And when he placed the plate down in front of you, two yellow yolk stared right at you.

#shrill..works #oc x male reader #male reader #x reader #x male reader #reader insert #oc x reader #male reader insert #male!reader #male reader imagine #male! reader #x male!reader #platonic #teen reader

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dameronspector · 3 months ago

Text

Philophobia (Part 2)

Pairing: Joaquin Torres x Stark!Reader

Chapter Summary: Another nightmare that felt way too realistic and one panic attack later, you decided to pick up Pepper’s call and talk to her about everything that happened yesterday. She gives you a little mom talk. And you finally meet the treasure that is Joaquin Torres.

Warnings: Mentions of Death and Depression/Depressive episodes, Mentions of Panic Attacks, Nightmares, Some cursing, Love at First Sight, Kind of enemies to lovers but only because reader hates opening up to people so they bully Joaquin, Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, the lovebirds are finally meeting!!, Joaquin is Down Bad, Reader has some phobias, Found family, also there’s a few references and hidden plots in this. 😁 (please keep in mind that I wrote this from my point of view as a south asian.)

You were walking around the cabin and finally stepped out on the patio. It must’ve been…days since you last stepped out of your room. Pepper tried everything to bring you out and have lunch with her and Morgan but she ended up having to leave your plate by your door.

You are not too sure what compelled you to finally step out of your room. All you knew is that you felt a nagging feeling in your stomach and before you knew it, you were opening the door.

You turned and your eyes fell on the chairs in the corner. You froze.

You felt like your body had turned to cement. You couldn’t move, at all. Your breath hitched and your eyes widened. You wanted to call out to the person, so bad. But you just couldn’t. It felt like your mouth was stitched close. You could feel bile rising up your throat.

The person finally turned around and looked at you.

“Honey?”, your dad asked you, softly.

Hold on. Your dad?

“How…wh-what? H-how are you..?”, you finally sputtered out and furrowed your eyebrows painfully.

The pers-your dad, stood up and made his way over to you. His eyebrows were furrowed and his mouth was etched into a frown.

He reached you and put his hands on your shoulders.

“Hey, it’s me. What’s up, baby? You good? Pep told me you didn’t have your lunch, yet. You wanna get some burgers with me?”, he asked worriedly while caressing your shoulders.

You didn’t know what the fuck was happening. How was he here. Why was he here. What was happening. How are you here. You had so many questions.

“I-dad?”, you croaked out and looked at him with teary eyes. You ran your gaze across his face as if you were trying to remember how he looked like.

Tony’s eyebrows furrowed deeply.

“Yeah, it’s me baby. What’s happ-”

Before he could finish his sentence, you crashed into him and buried your face in his chest, your arms around his waist. You hugged him so tightly that it must’ve been painful.

He immediately wrapped his arms around you and hugged you tightly.

“Honey, you’re scaring me. What’s wrong? Does anything hurt?”, Tony asked you with fear and panic heavy in his voice. One thing about Tony is that if you panic, he’s gonna panic. He couldn’t see his baby hurting like that.

You simply shook your head no, scrunched your eyes tighter and buried yourself into his chest even more. Your body shook with uncontrollable sobs.

“Look at me, kiddo. Please, you gotta tell me what’s up”, Tony pleaded and put his hand on your head, caressing it.

After taking in deep, shuddering breaths to somewhat calm yourself down, you reluctantly broke the hug and looked up at him.

To your horror, gone was his caring and aged, wrinkly face with gray hair.

You came face to face with a half dead man. The right side of his face was completely burnt and charred by the explosion from the snap. His entire body was grey. Not the gray that comes with aging. But the kind of grey that comes with the left out soot of a dying fire. The grey that painted your life after his demise. His eyes were open but unresponsive, and they were so empty it made you sick.

Gone were your father’s mischievous and warm brown eyes. His mouth was open as if he had just let out his final breath.

You stumbled back from him before letting out a loud scream.

“No. No no no no. NO! PLEASE. GO AWAY. NO NO-”

And then you woke up.

You couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t even move. You felt paralysed. And why was it so dark?

“FR-FRIDAY…turn on.. turn on the lights”, you managed to choke out in between gasps.

You clenched your blanket in your hands to ground yourself.

“Boss, do you want me to start a breathing exercise?”

You gulped and gasped out a weak “Yes.”

You went through the motions– deep breath in, hold for 5 seconds, deep breath out, hold for 5 seconds.

After doing this for 5-6 times, you finally managed to calm down.

Now, you were too scared to go back to sleep. Everytime you closed your eyes, you saw your father’s lifeless face.

It’s been a while since you had a nightmare this bad. And this one was way too realistic than the other ones you had. You literally felt like you were at the cabin. You could feel his touch on your shoulders. You felt his hug. Oh, you’d do anything to go back to that nightmare just to feel his hugs once again.

You let out a deep sigh and buried your head in your hands, while leaning your arms against your thighs.

You felt your damp cheeks. You straightened up and ran your hand through your hair.

“FRI, what’s the time right now?”, you croaked out. Your voice was sore from all the yelling.

“It’s 3:15 am, boss.”

You groaned and rubbed your eyes with the heels of your palms. You were not going to get any sleep now (as you predicted earlier in the day). You threw your blanket aside and went out to the kitchen to prepare yourself some coffee. Your coffee addiction definitely made up for the alcohol addiction.

You sipped your coffee on the rooftop deck and you let the chill air cool your warm body.

You felt an itch in your hands to tinker on your dad’s suits again. You haven’t touched those in 3 weeks. Which was progress for you.

You held your coffee mug tighter in your hands to resist the urge to get up and start working. You had promised your therapist and Rhodey that you would not use the suits as a distraction or coping mechanism again. But old habits die hard. So you made way to your makeshift lab. You were planning to turn that room into a proper lab soon.

You started working on MARK 42. You don’t even know what, why, where or when were you going to use all these suits again but you needed a distraction.

“FRIDAY, play ABBA”, you asked the AI. What better than working while dancing to ABBA to distract yourself from a night terror?

It was 9 am now. You had successfully stayed up all night working on the suits and dancing to your playlists. It was…fun. I mean, as fun as it gets after having a paralysing night terror. You did your morning routine and had your breakfast. Now you were completely exhausted so you just flopped down on your couch and just rested your eyes.

The moment you felt yourself slip into a deep slumber, your phone rang.

You groaned. “FRI, who is it?”, you asked tiredly.

“It’s Mrs. Potts, boss.”

You immediately opened your eyes and picked up your phone from the coffee table. You and your dad had decided to never not pick up Pepper’s calls because if you don’t, she gets stressed out and then she stresses all of you out.

“Hey, mom”, you answered. This was a recent development during The Blip. You had finally started calling her mom. And honestly? It felt good. She’s been the mother you never had since you were a little kid.

“Oh, how I love hearing you say that”, she said giddily.

You just chuckled.

“How are you, honey? Everything good? Groceries are stocked? How are your sessions going on? Oh, and how was the event? Rhodey told me you met Sam. I hope you had a good time. And how was-”

“Mom. Can you take a breather, my god”, you asked exasperated.

You could practically feel her sheepish smile through the phone. She’s always been this fussy ever since she joined your abnormal family.

“Sorry, honey. First, tell me, how are you?”, she asked gently.

You let out a deep sigh. “I-I’m…okay. Could be better”, you answered truthfully. You’re doing much better at this whole sharing your emotions thing.

“You wanna talk about what happened? You know I’m always here, right? We’re all here for you, sweetheart.”

You could feel your throat choke up again and you scrunched your eyes shut.

You gulped. “Yeah, I know. Thanks, mom,” your voice cracked.

Pepper must’ve understood that you’re not in the mood to share anything else so she quickly changes the topic.

“And how was the event? How’s Sam?”

“He’s as glorious as he was before. Although, now he looks a little tired. But that shield looks really good on him, mom. I’m so happy for him”, you replied sincerely.

Pepper hummed. “Why did he give up the shield? I saw the news”, she asked thoughtfully.

“Yeah, well. There’s some things that we can’t understand. Considering the country we live in and the way things are now…let’s just say he put a lot of thought into it. Not really my place to say, you know?”, you replied.

Pepper let out a soft sigh. “Yeah, I understand. Also, Rhodey told me that Sam gave you an offer?”

You paused. You knew Rhodey would tell her about that. Everyone in this family is a snitch, oh my god, you thought.

You closed your eyes and reluctantly confessed.

“Yeah. He did. Something about helping him with his tech or whatever. And before you say anything, no I didn’t say yes to him. I’m not sure I want to join him.”

“Are you sure about that? You are at home with your tech, sweetheart. It’ll help you stay productive, as well”, Pepper asked you carefully.

You stayed silent. Pepper took that as a sign to continue.

“Besides…Rhodey also mentioned a new friend?” She added with mirth in her voice. She kept trying to set you up on a date so you’re sure she was ecstatic when Rhodey told her this.

You groaned loudly. “Why is my personal life a gossip for you two?! Is Rhodey the resident gossip girl now?!”, you said while pinching the bridge of your nose with your index finger and thumb. You’re going to steal Rhodey’s suits until he stops meddling with your life.

Pepper laughed.

“I’m not going to join Sam and I’m not meeting any friend. You guys need to relax, alright? What am I even gonna do there. And I don’t think Sam actually wants me there, either. So. Anyways. Bye mom. I’ll talk to you later”, you said abruptly.

Pepper just let out a deep sigh. You were Tony’s carbon copy. It was scary. It’s times like these that made her miss him even more because it reminded her of their younger selves. She’d give anything to see you two banter again. And she knows you would’ve listened to him in a heartbeat, too.

“Okay, honey. Take care. I love you.”

You just hummed and cut the call. You dropped your phone back on the coffee table and draped your arm across your eyes.

You didn’t even realise when you fell asleep because the next time you woke up, it was to FRIDAY calling you out.

“Boss, wake up. There’s someone at the door.”

You sighed. “FRI, if it’s Rhodey you can just let him in”, you picked up your phone to check the time. It was 12:00 pm. You slept for a good while.

FRIDAY began, “It isn’t Mr. Rhodes, boss. It’s Mr. Wilson. And just for your information, he’s here with someone.”

That snapped you out of your sleep and you jolted up.

“What? What is he doing here? How did he know-Rhodey”, you groaned loudly. You knew Pepper would tell the details of your conversation to Rhodey. You shouldn’t have picked her call up, yet.

“Fuck, okay. Tell him to wait for a minute. I’ll be right back”, you said in an exhausted voice.

You went to your bedroom and changed your pajamas to a presentable shirt and jeans and quickly washed your face before brushing your hair.

“Okay. Let him in”, you told FRIDAY.

While he came in, you were in the kitchen, fetching some water for Sam. You decided you might as well be a good host and let him down politely.

“Hey, kid.”

You had your back to him and you turned around to greet him- who is that.

You must’ve expressed that a little too obviously as Sam chuckled nervously and introduced you to the guy that came with him.

“Kid, meet Joaquin. Joaquin, that’s-”

“(Name) Stark. I know. Wow. I mean- Hey. Nice- Honoured to meet to you. I’m Lieutenant Joaquin Torres”, he rambled and held out his hand for you to shake.

You swore you felt your heart skip a beat.

Wait what?

Both of you were looking at each other so intently, that Sam just chose to stand beside Joaquin with his arms across his chest, an amusing smirk spread over his face. He could already see that a few months later, y’all would thank him for this.

“Kid?”, Sam asked playfully.

You snapped out of your daze and looked at Sam.

“H-hey. I wasn’t expecting you here...” you trailed off and blinked your eyes.

“Yeah, I know. Rhodes gave me the address. Sorry for just barging in like this but it’s kind of an emergency”, Sam replied apologetically.

You simply hummed. And your eyes went to their feet. Not because you had a fetish but because they were wearing their shoes. In your house. You widened your eyes.

“Both of you, take off your shoes. Did Rhodey not tell you about the rules? No shoes in my house”, you say exasperatedly.

Both of them, shocked at your sudden reaction and your rules, immediately went to the entrance and stood there dumbfounded.

“Where-”, Sam began and pointed at their shoes.

You sighed. “Just remove them by the door.”

They quickly removed their shoes and joined you in the living room, nervously.

You turned your gaze back towards Joaquin. He was still staring at you intently and hadn’t said a single word. You furrowed your brows.

“Is he…okay?”, you asked Sam in confusion.

Sam turned to look at Joaquin and pursed his lips to avoid laughing. He brought his hand up and clapped it on Joaquin’s back firmly.

“Torres, you good?”

Joaquin flinched and snapped his eyes to Sam. He blinked rapidly.

“Uh. Yeah. I’m good. All good”, he said quickly and threw a thumbs up.

Sam just smiled knowingly.

“Kid, as you must’ve figured out by now, he’s the partner I mentioned yesterday and he’s the one who looks over most of the technical stuff. Since I’ve been sending him off on field missions on the side, I thought, why not ask you to help us with the remaining stuff.”

“I mean, I’m good at it, just gets a little difficult to handle it when I’m on field, you know. Not that you aren’t better than me, I mean you’re THE (Name) Stark, ofcourse you’re better than me but-”

“It’s alright. I got it. Joaquin, right?”, you cut off his rambling and held out a hand to stop him.

Wow, he really IS talkative. This was going to be a problem.

You saw how he shut his mouth and gulped.

“Y-yeah…”, Joaquin trailed off. You couldn’t help but notice, had such shiny brown eyes…

What is wrong with you?

“Please take a seat, you guys want something to drink? Eat?”, you asked them while leading them to the couch.

“No, we’re good. Actually….we want you to join us right away. Like, now, would be good”, Sam told you hesitantly. He knew this was not a good idea. Rhodey told him that you were already on edge about all this.

You paused. “Now? Like, now now?”, you asked carefully.

Sam grimaced. “Yeah…actually, we’ve got a big problem. And that problem just broke redwing.”

You widened your eyes. “No way, you let your child get abused like that?”, you asked jokingly. Joaquin chuckled at this. You stared at him in amusement.

Sam narrowed his eyes at you and Joaquin. “Damn right he’s my child. And that’s why I’m asking you to cure him. He’s like, your sibling. Please, don’t say no.”

“Did you just call a robot my sibling? And are you really giving me the puppy eyes right now, Wilson?”, you quirked an eyebrow at him.

He ignored the second question and just tilted his head- like a kicked puppy. “If your dad birthed him then he’s your sibling, right?”

You groaned and rubbed your hands across your face. Honestly? You already knew your answer. You knew it the moment Rhodey requested you to think about it. You were simply hesitating because of your tendency to pull away the moment something triggers you. You know, stark legacy and all. And you didn’t want to hurt Sam like that.

You let out a sigh that came from deep inside your bones.

“Okay we’re gonna have some rules. 1. You’re not going to make any weird jokes about redwing being my sibling. 2. I will not participate in any kind of field operations. 3. I will come and go as I please”, you paused and pointed at Joaquin, “and 4. If I tell you something, you will simply listen to me. No questions. No counter arguments. Zip. Nada. Am I clear?”, you finished, looking pointedly at the two of them.

You saw their eyes comically widen.

“Oh hell yeah, whatever you say. And we agree with all of your conditions, don’t we, Joaquin?”, Sam said excitedly.

You saw Joaquin nod his head eagerly. You were mesmerised by the way his bouncy, beautiful, dark curls moved atop his head, powered by those dark coffee pools that are his eyes- Knock it off. No. We’re not doing this again.

You quickly averted your eyes and gulped. You noticed out of the corner of your eye how Joaquin’s gaze was fixated on you.

“Okay. Relax. What’s the plan, now?”, you asked reluctantly.

“We’ll go to my apartment, first. You can check out all the stuff that needs fixing and run a diagnosis on redwing. Then we can go ahead from there. Sounds good?.”

You nodded your head.

“Yeah, okay. Let me clean up and pack a bag. Then we can leave. You guys can help yourself around until then. FRIDAY, help them out with anything they need”, you announced and went to your room. You couldn’t believe you actually said yes.

Joaquin’s (+Sam’s) POV

“You’re serious? You’re gonna ask The (Name) Stark to join us? No, no. You’re gonna ask The (Name) Stark to work with ME?”, Joaquin asked Sam with all the excitement that existed in the world. He was practically bouncing off the walls.

He couldn’t believe it. How was this his life now. Partnering with his role model and hero and now he gets to work with his crush who is also his second role model? No fucking way, dude.

Sam knew how much that boy loved the eldest stark child because he would never shut up about them. It’s always ‘oh man, they’re so talented and so beautiful’ or ‘how are they so well dressed every time?’ Or ‘how can someone be so intelligent at such a young age, bro?’.

Sam found out about Joaquin’s little crush on you when he walked in on him watching an old interview. You were talking at a charity event that took place 6 years ago. You were only 17 then. Joaquin was so engrossed in the video that he was leaning his head on his propped up arm and staring at the screen of his laptop without blinking. With a dopey smile plastered on his face.

“I didn’t know you were a fan?”, Sam asked cheekily.

Joaquin flinched and quickly shut his laptop.

“Dude, can’t you knock?!”, he exclaimed and put his hand on his chest.

Sam just smirked. “I thought you were working on some intel that’s why I came here to check it out. But, here you are, makin’ googly eyes at your laptop screen! That’s your fault, Torres. You’re procrastinating.”

Sam noticed how Joaquin’s cheeks turned bright red.

“Uh- well. I was. I was just looking at a speech. A very intellectual and interesting speech, mind you”, he quickly explained.

Sam quirked an eyebrow. “Oh really? Was the speech interesting or was the speaker interesting?”, he asked cheekily.

Joaquin’s face reddened even more.

“Um- I- well, you see-”, Joaquin stuttered.

Sam just laughed and clapped his shoulder. “It’s okay, man. I won’t tell anybody about your crush. Pinky promise”, he teased.

Joaquin groaned and ducked his head.

After that incident, Joaquin randomly came clean about his infatuation with you during a night out.

“I don’t know, man. There’s something so…captivating about them. The way they command the room even though they’re so shy. The way they speak so eloquently. The way they’re always respectful to others even if they’re strangers. The way they defend their family so fiercely. How they’re so passionate about all the causes they work for. Just…”, Joaquin trailed off and shook his head.

“Yeah. You don’t see those qualities often in a billionaire’s heir, you know. Feels like they really root for the underdog. And I love that. I love their empathy and the grace they carry themselves with”, Joaquin said with affection dripping from his words.

Sam whistled. “Oh boy, you’ve got it bad.”

Joaquin just chuckled and took a sip out of a beer. His entire face was red. Yeah. He had it bad. And he was not ashamed of it.

After meeting you at the press meet, Sam went to meet up with Joaquin at the tarmac. He was 100% prepared for the onslaught of questions because he knew Joaquin must’ve seen the footage.

He turned around the corner and there it was.

“Dude. You met up with them?! What the fuck? You didn’t tell me. I would’ve joined you, man. Why didn’t you ask me, oh my god? They looked so good, by the way, but that’s not important. You MET them and you-” “I asked them if they wanna work with you.”

“And you talked to them right? How was it- wait. WHAT?”, Joaquin yelled abruptly.

Sam shushed him. “Relax, Torres. And yes, I asked them if they wanted to work with you. I mean not you–I asked them if they wanted to join me and help us with the tech stuff”, Sam replied nonchalantly, as if this was not a big deal. As if Joaquin wasn’t this close to passing out.

Sam swore he saw Joaquin buffer in real time. The #1 Yapper was rendered speechless? He had to thank you for that.

Joaquin opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water.

“You….asked them…if they wanted to…work with me?”, Joaquin squeaked out, eyes zoned out as if he’s in a trance.

“Not you exclusively, don’t get ahead of yourself, lover boy”, Sam narrowed his eyes at Joaquin.

Joaquin completely ignored that. “What did they say?”, he asked impatiently, eyes wide in hope.

Sam sighed. “Well, after everything they’ve been through…it’s not been easy for them. I’m not sure they’ll agree to do this. We can only wait.”

A flicker of understanding passed through Joaquin’s face. He nodded. “Yeah man, I understand”, he said sincerely.

“But..god, I hope they say yes”, Joaquin added shyly and ducked his head, averting his gaze from Sam.

Sam just smiled. “Yeah man, me too.”

Which brings them back to today. They were literally standing outside your penthouse.

Joaquin asked Sam once again-

Sam just smirked.

“Calm down, tiger. You don’t even know if they’re gonna say yes”, Sam told him with amusement lacing his tone.

“I know, I know. Still. It’s crazy, bro…We’re literally standing outside their house, right now? Oh, I can’t wait to throw down with them-”

Joaquin was cut off by FRIDAY speaking.

“Boss has asked you to come in, Mr. Wilson.”

Sam looked at Joaquin, all the amusement vanishing from his eyes.

“Listen, Joaquin. I’m serious. Don’t say or do anything that’ll freak them out. It’s a sensitive topic, okay?”

Joaquin nodded his head in understanding.

The door opened and they entered the living room. Joaquin’s hands started sweating. He was fucking terrified yet excited at the same time.

They turned around to and finally saw you.

Sam greeted you and you immediately turned around to greet him. You seemed surprised to see them. Sam introduced the two of you. But, Joaquin felt like time had stopped. His ears were ringing. His hands were shaking, his knees were weak and he felt dizzy.

God, you are beautiful.

You were wearing a simple shirt and jeans and had absolutely no make up or anything but…you had a special kind of beauty. Your warm and empathetic nature truly showed on your face because you were glowing. To him, you were like an angel sent straight from heaven.

Joaquin ran his eyes all over you like a man quenching his thirst. He couldn’t believe that you standing right in front of him. That he was allowed to be in your orbit like this.

And in the midst of his mental breakdown, he didn’t notice the way you seemed to have stopped in your tracks and were looking at him just as intensely.

While the two of you were busy with your little staring contest, you didn’t notice Sam smirking to himself in satisfaction.

‘They will be thanking me soon’, Sam thought smugly.

Part 3

AN: woohoo!! They finally met! I’m also thinking of making it a series that will follow TFATWS. Hope you liked this part!

Sorry if the ending and pacing is weird. I’m still trying to figure out how to write a whole series + end chapters :(

#joaquin torres #danny ramirez #sam wilson #joaquin torres fluff #joaquin torres x stark!reader #joaquin torres x you #joaquin torres x reader #the falcon and the winter soldier #james rhodes #tony stark #dad!tony stark #marvel cinematic universe #falcon #joaquin x reader #angst #fluff

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lumiileth · 14 days ago

Text

let you break my heart again pt. ii

part 1 part 3

pairing: Shanks x Marine!Reader, Garp’s Daughter!Reader, Familial!Luffy x Reader, Familial!Ace

tags: Bittersweet, Angst, Unrequited Love, Angst, Non-Sexual Tension, No Use of Y/N, (Extra info on the replies!)

Egghead spoiler warnings

word count: 7.200

summary: She was an anchor, foolishly reaching for the tide, but Shanks was the sea—vast, restless, and never meant to be caught.

or: She realized that Shanks and Luffy were the same - both too wild and free-spirited to be held back, they were always going to chase their dreams, while she just had to accept being left behind.

Foosha Village

12 years before canon

Luffy had said something that made her stop in her tracks, something loud and offhand, like most things he said, but this one stuck.

“Ace is the Pirate King’s son!”

She blinked. At first, she just stared at Luffy, deadpanned, assuming it was just another one of his dramatic exaggerations. But the more she thought about it… the more it made no sense. There was a purge of newborns after the Pirate King was executed, but somehow she realized that Ace did bear a faint resemblance to Roger, with a hint of feminine features.

“You sure he’s Roger’s kid?” she asked, trying to keep her voice flat, feigning indifference. But her heart was already racing with a strange excitement. She hadn’t spoken much to Ace since he’d shown up; most of her time was still wrapped around her Marine duties. And when she came back, it felt like Luffy had already found his own family.

“Yeah!” Luffy nodded emphatically, mouth full, rice flying. “He hates it, though. But that’s just stupid!” he declared, banging his cup on the table. “His dad is COOL! ”

“But I’ll be cooler!”

She couldn’t help the smile tugging at her lips as she set down a plate of meat in front of him.

And then, just like that, it was gone and Luffy scrambled.

“I’m gonna go!!!” Luffy shouted, shoving the last of his food into his mouth before bolting out the door with the speed only a boy like him could manage.

She looked down at the empty dishes he'd left behind.

Her chest twisted.

It was a strange ache, half-hurt, half-warmth. Luffy had found his brothers. (brother, she reminded herself of the loss, brother, she repeated) He didn’t wait for her to come back to give him a family. He’d found one on his own.

And even if it stung a little… It also made her proud.

She decides to try and talk to Ace if given the chance.

Dadan called out her name.

“I didn’t know you were back!” Dadan said, despite her fear of Garp, she had always liked his daughter, she might even say that she thinks of her as her own daughter.

“Been here a few days,” she replied, gently pulling away from the hug. “I just didn’t have time to drop by. Sorry.”

Dadan lit a cigarette, leaned against the rickety door frame of her house, and exhaled. “You look like hell.”

“Thanks. You’re glowing as always.” She laughed dryly.

“Hah! That’s the alcohol,” Dadan smirked. “So, are ya hanging for a while, or just passing through?”

She didn’t answer right away. Instead, she looked out toward the trees where distant laughter echoed, Luffy’s, maybe Ace’s too.

“Not sure, my transponder snail is a bit lethargic, so I left her alone” she said at last. “If I’m getting calls from work, I wouldn't know.”

A silence settled between them before she broke it again.

“So. Ace and Luffy.”

Dadan let out a small laugh, flicking ash into the dirt. “Thank you for taking care of them, I know it’s hard, It’s probably like holding back two hurricanes with a wet mop.”

“You’re not wrong.” Dadan smiled, her expression softening. “But they grew on me. Those boys… they’re gonna tear the world apart someday. In the best way.”

“It’s weird seeing you openly be affectionate of these boys,” She smirked at Dadan, who widened her eyes, looking like she was caught red handed, “So you do care!”

“I DON’T!”

“AUNTIEEEEE!”

Luffy’s voice rang out across the clearing like a cannonball, full of mischief and raw enthusiasm. His rubber arms shot forward, grabbing at her shoulders as he launched himself toward her with a force that would’ve knocked any other adult straight off their feet.

She caught him, barely. Her boots scraped back against the dirt trail as she braced herself.

“Luffy—ow! That’s my shoulder, not a slingshot target,” she grumbled, but she didn’t push him away. If anything, she allowed herself to smile just a little at the boy now clinging to her with the kind of desperation only Luffy could muster.

“Come on, come on, pleaaaase train Ace and me!” he beamed up at her, eyes sparkling with that wide, reckless hope of his.

She raised a brow. “Isn’t Garp training you guys?”

“He’s not here! ” Luffy complained, flailing his arms with cartoonish dramatics. “And when he is, he’s scary! He punches too hard, and he threw me into a mountain last week!”

“That sounds tamer than when he trained me,” she said dryly, crossing her arms.

“But you’re better! You’re cool! And you don’t yell as much!”

He gave her that look. That stupid, effective look. Big round eyes, quivering lip, like the entire world would end if she said no.

She sighed and glanced past him to where Ace stood a few feet away, arms crossed and expression unreadable. But there was a flicker in his eyes, curiosity, maybe? Or a silent challenge.

“I don’t know…” she started, only for Luffy to up the ante by grabbing her hands with both of his and practically shaking her. “Pleeaase, Auntie! We’ll be so good!”

She stared down at him, then she turned toward Ace. “What about you? You okay with this?”

Ace shrugged, but there was a spark of something almost eager behind the casual tone.

“I don’t care, I just want to get stronger,” he said. “If you’re gonna teach us anything, I’ll take it seriously.”

She folded her arms, pretending to consider. “I’m not going easy on either of you.”

“YEAHHHH!” Luffy whooped, already running circles around her. “You’re the best!!”

Along the way, they had realized, maybe, just maybe, her training was slightly harsher than Garp.

“You’re worse than Gramps!” Luffy cried through a mouthful of food, crumbs spilling onto his lap as he stuffed his face with roasted meat.

“You’re the one who kept slacking off,” she muttered, unfazed, casually tossing a fruit toward Ace, who caught it one-handed.

The three of them were seated around a small fire, the meat they’d hunted sizzling faintly on flat stones and as per usual, Luffy fell asleep after taking in almost all of their food, he was now sprawled out on the grass, his stomach round.

“So, Ace,” she started casually, “I hea—”

“Why’d ya become a Marine?” Ace interrupted, sharp and unexpected.

She blinked, the firelight casting flickers across her face as the question settled between them. It wasn’t an accusation, but it was laced with curiosity. A question he probably couldn’t ask Garp, especially not to Luffy.

“As much as Garp yells at us to be Marines, I don’t think he can force us,” Ace added, picking at the edge of the eaten watermelon, eyes not meeting hers. “You’re strong. You could’ve just said no. Become a pirate. Do whatever you want. Was being a Marine your dream? Who in their right mind dreams of being a Marine?”

She exhaled slowly, watching the embers dance in the pit. “You’re asking a lot of questions tonight.”

Ace shrugged but went quiet, waiting.

“…To answer you,” she said at last, her voice even but distant, “I couldn’t throw away everything Garp gave me. As much as I wanted freedom, I couldn’t walk away from the man who raised me.”

She thought of Garp’s face when Dragon left. The grief buried under fury. The quiet in the house that followed.

“I don’t agree with the system. I’ve seen its ugliness more than most. But Garp… he believed in the good parts. He wanted me to be safe. To be strong. I joined for him… and because I thought maybe I could do some good.”

Ace stayed still, his expression unreadable.

“But my best… it’s not something big or heroic,” she continued, a small, bitter smile tugging at her lips. “I realized I can’t change the world. I just try to keep the people I love safe.”

She hated being a Marine, but she loved her family more, even when it sometimes felt unreciprocated.

“So you’re okay with me and Luffy becoming pirates?” Ace finally asked, quieter now. Less defiant. Seeking something, permission, maybe. Understanding.

She looked at him, really looked, and saw the way his jaw tensed, the flicker of worry in his eyes despite his tough exterior. He wanted her blessing.

“I want you both to be free,” she said softly. “No matter what path that is. If being a pirate gives you that freedom… then I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

Ace turned to face the other way, but she can tell that he was flushing from the way the tip of his ears turned red.

If Ace can ask questions, she can too. She was always curious if what Luffy had told her was ture or not.

“Say,” she began gently, testing the waters, “I heard something from Luffy.”

Ace shifted where he sat, not looking at her. “Yeah?”

She hesitated for a moment, then continued, “That your father was Gol D. Roger… Is that true?”

The change in Ace was immediate. His shoulders tensed, his jaw tightened, and the flicker of peace in his eyes vanished. “Luffy told you that?” His voice was low, guarded.

“Yep,” she said, almost playfully, as if trying to soften the blow.

“That loudmouth…” Ace muttered, burying his face in his arms. Shame crept into his voice. “Of course he’d blab to someone else.”

She watched him carefully. The shift in his body language. The fear. The instinct to hide.

“Before you get angry,” she said calmly, standing up as she sat herself closer beside him, close enough that their knees almost touched.

“he wasn’t trying to out you. He was just rambling. Bragging about wanting to be Pirate King, like always.”

Ace didn’t respond.

“Go on, then,” he muttered bitterly after a long pause, eyes still downcast. “Say it. Say you don’t believe it. Or that someone like Roger shouldn’t have had a kid in the first place. That I’ve got the devil’s blood or whatever crap people like to throw around.”

Her heart ached for him. This boy, so full of fire and will, still carried the weight of a name he never asked for. She ponders on what she should say next.

“I knew your father,” she said softly.

Ace’s head snapped toward her. “...What?”

“I was a stowaway on his ship when I was young and he took me in right then and there! An idiotic move seeing that my dad was Monkey D. Garp, not that he knew, anywaaays…” She rambled on.

Ace said nothing, but his gaze didn’t move from her face.

“I don’t know what you went through, Ace,” she continued, “truly. But you should know this, if your father had known you, if he’d had the chance… I think he would’ve loved you with everything he had.”

“A demon like that could never love his own child,” Ace muttered, his voice rough with a mix of anger and something quieter, something close to doubt.

But even as the words left his mouth, they didn’t settle like truth. They felt… empty. The kind of thing you say over and over until you start believing it. Except, for the first time, Ace wasn’t sure he did.

She didn’t speak right away. Just sat there, letting the silence work its way through the heaviness between them.

“You don’t sound convinced,” she finally said, quiet but firm.

Ace scoffed. “I have to.”

Her gaze flicked toward him, sharp yet gentle. “Why? Because it’s easier to hate him than to wonder what could’ve been?”

Ace clenched his fists in the dirt beneath them, jaw tightening. He looked like he wanted to yell, or run, or break something, but he didn’t. He just breathed. Shaky and uneven.

“You’re the first person,” he said slowly, “who’s ever talked about him like that. Like he was a person. Not a monster. Not a pirate king. Just... a man.”

“I didn’t know him long,” she admitted, “but I knew enough. He laughed too loud, ate too much, trusted people too easily, and risked his life for his crew. He wasn’t perfect. He was far from it. But he loved this world, and that’s why… he would’ve loved you, too.”

Ace blinked hard, head turned away as his voice cracked, “I don’t know if I could’ve loved him.”

She gently nudged his shoulder. “You don’t have to. But maybe, you can stop hating yourself because of him.”

He looked at her, really looked at her, and for a moment, he seemed so much younger than he usually let himself be.

“Thanks.” It was curt and mannerless, but she knew he meant well.

“Don’t mention it, kid.”

Oro Jackson

30 years ago

“Say, Lass,” Roger called out, his voice booming warmly as he approached the girl seated cross-legged on a barrel near the ship’s edge. The salty breeze tousled her hair, but her gaze remained locked on the ocean. “Aren’t ya gonna tell me where you came from?”

She didn’t look back, only shrugged. “You never asked, old man.”

Roger barked out a hearty laugh. “Fair enough! So? Where’s home?”

“The East Blue,” she replied simply, her voice carried on the wind.

Roger whistled, his grin widening. “Well, I’ll be damned. What do you know, we’ve got more in common than I thought!”

“You’re from the East Blue?” She finally turned to face him, eyes wide with disbelief. The man on his way to becoming the best pirate this world has ever seen, hailed from what is considered as the weakest blue?

“Born and raised,” he said proudly, jabbing his thumb to his chest. “Loguetown. Polestar Islands.”

Her mouth parted slightly. “Foosha Village. Dawn Island.”

Roger chuckled. “Now that you’ve had a taste of the world, the East Blue must feel a little smaller, huh?”

She didn’t answer right away. Her eyes wandered back to the sea, shimmering beneath the moonlight. But something in her expression had changed, a flicker of awe, of longing, of possibility.

“The sea feels alive,” she murmured. “Like it’s calling.”

Roger smiled at that, his expression softening beneath the shadow of his hat. “That’s the pull, Lass. The sea only calls the wild ones.”

“Wild, huh?” she echoed, her lips quirking upward.

“You wouldn’t be on this ship if you weren’t.”

“Guess that’s true,” she murmured, her voice lighter now, like the sea breeze itself.

Roger leaned against the railing beside her, arms crossed as he watched the same vast sea. “You wanna sail your own ship one day?”

She blinked, surprised by the question. It hadn’t crossed her mind, not really. Not seriously.

“I don’t know,” she said honestly, her legs swinging off the barrel now. “I don’t think I’d make a good captain.”

Roger glanced sideways at her, but didn’t say anything. He just nodded, understanding in his silence.

“But I think about it sometimes,” she admitted, “A ship of my own. A crew. But where would I even go? What would I be looking for?”

“Freedom,” Roger said, like it was the easiest answer in the world, his smile brighter than the moon in the sky. “That’s what we all want, isn’t it?”

She smiled at that, soft and tired. “Then maybe I already found it.”

Roger laughed again, deep and genuine. “Don’t be so sure. The sea’s got a way of making you chase after more, even when you think you’ve got everything you need.”

She didn’t respond right away. But as the waves gently rocked the Oro Jackson beneath them, she glanced out at the world again and wondered.

Maybe one day, when she wasn’t just a stowaway or a tagalong, when she wasn’t behind closed doors surrounded by white uniforms, when she wasn’t faced and burdened with a father’s dream, maybe the sea would call her in a different way.

“Maybe,” she said quietly. “One day.”

“Ms. Marine-chan,” Makino’s voice called out gently through a knock on the wooden door. The teasing nickname lingered in the air, soft and familiar. “Ace is about to leave. Aren’t you going to come see him off?”

“That’s early,” she responded from within, though her voice came out raspier than intended. She held back a cough, stifling it with the back of her hand. The last thing she wanted was Makino’s worry. “Yeah, I’ll come. Is Dadan still pretending she doesn’t care?”

Makino gave a knowing smile just as the door creaked open, revealing the older woman with a faint sheen of sweat on her brow.

“She’s still in denial,” Makino laughed lightly, adjusting the basket in her hands. “I brought something. I peeled one of your tangerines earlier, by the way. It's sweet!”

She handed over the basket and watched as the older woman took it with a small, amused smile.

“That’s sweet of you. Thank you,” she said, plucking a slice and popping it into her mouth before turning to place the basket gently on her table.

“Alright,” she said, exhaling softly as she reached for her coat, “Let’s go see Ace.”

They walked towards the outskirts of the forest, Ace ventured out not on the official harbor of the island, not when people don’t know who he is.

“Take care, Aceeeee!” she heard Luffy shout, his tiny arms flailing wildly as he waved with every ounce of energy he had.

“Yeah!” Ace called back, just as loud, grinning from ear to ear as his small dinghy drifted further down the river. “See you, Luffy! I’m heading out!”

“I’ll be a lot stronger when I leave in three years!” Luffy yelled with bright conviction, the kind only a child with a dream could have.

Ace’s gaze lingered, now not on Luffy, but on the woman standing quietly beside him. The woman who wasn’t his mother, but who had done more for his heart than most ever could. She had believed in him. Spoke kindly of the father he once despised. Showed him warmth, understanding.

Ace shouted her name.

“Thank you… for everything you’ve done!” Ace shouted suddenly, his voice cracking through the air.

Tears pricked the corners of her eyes. She smiled, but it wavered.

“Dadan raised you more than I did, boy!” she shouted back, voice rough with unshed emotion. She tried to wave him off with a scoff, like this was just another casual goodbye, but the lump in her throat was impossible to swallow.

“Ya both did!” Ace yelled. “Thank you again!”

“Good luck, Ace!” she called, the words almost breaking in her chest.

“Bye, Ace!” Makino and a few others chimed in beside her.. “Don’t catch a cold!”

“You just wait!” Ace’s voice rang out once more. “I’ll make my name soon!”

And just like that, just like Shanks, just like Dragon, another person she loved disappeared into the horizon.

Another piece of her heart left to chase the sea.

“You’re leaving?”

Mayor Woop Slap stood at the doorway of her small home. It had always been quiet, always a little empty, but now it felt hollow, it was far emptier than usual.

“I’m a Marine,” she replied simply, folding a shirt into her half-packed bag. “I’m always leaving.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” he said, the weariness in his voice sharper than before. He stepped inside and slowly lowered himself into one of the rickety wooden chairs by her table, watching her methodically stuff the rest of her belongings into the bag. Essentials.

He exhaled. “What happened, lass?”

She paused for a moment, hand still on the bag. Then, in a quieter voice:

“Luffy didn’t cry.”

Mayor Woop Slap blinked, confused.

“When Ace left,” she clarified, her voice strained but steady. “Luffy didn’t cry.”

She wanted to. She nearly did. If she had blinked, the tears might’ve slipped free. But Luffy? He was smiling.

Big, wide, bright-eyed.

Excited about the future, about setting out, about becoming stronger.

She remembered a time when he cried. When Shanks left, he’d cried. That memory was seared into her mind: the small boy with the straw hat too big for his head, screaming on the dock towards a man she had affections for.

But that wasn’t Luffy anymore.

That boy had grown.

Now, if she left, he wouldn’t cry. He’d see it as a challenge. As a step closer to the sea. He’d chase her, not to hold her back, but to find her out there. To cross paths, to brag about his crew, to laugh and share stories with Ace under the sun.

“He’s grown.” She whispered it to no one in particular, but her heart squeezed around the truth and for the first time, she realized—

He didn’t need her anymore.

“So now, ya leaving for good?” Mayor Woop Slap leaned back in his chair, arms crossed as he studied the young woman before him, the one who used to run barefoot through the village, covered in dirt and mischief, now dressed in something neat, her pressed Marine coat not worn, it was folded and on her bed.

She paused.

“I wouldn’t say for good,” she said finally, her voice steady, but she couldn’t look him in the eyes. Because even she wasn’t sure she believed it.

“You’ve always said you’d settle down here someday,” he reminded her gently.

She smiled. “Plans change, Mayor.”

“Luffy woul—”

“Luffy wouldn’t mind,” she cut in quickly, almost too quickly. A soft smile bloomed across her face as she turned her gaze to the window, where the wind rustled the trees outside. “He’s got his dream now. A crew to find. Seas to conquer. Who am I in his grand adventure?”

Mayor Woop Slap studied her. “Does Garp know?”

Her breath hitched. “Huh?”

“Does he know?” he repeated, more quietly this time, his voice weighed down with understanding.

She gripped the edge of the table and swallowed hard.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she muttered, her tone just a little too rehearsed.

The room was quiet, filled only by the creaking of the wooden beams above them. Woop Slap didn’t press further. He just nodded, slow and grim.

“Makino’s worried too, you know,” he added, softer now. “She said you haven’t been by in weeks, just coming in and going, just to buy a drink for yourself.”

“I’ve been busy,” she said with a half-hearted shrug. “Marine work.”

“She thinks you’ve been avoiding Luffy.”

Her mouth tightened. “Maybe I have.”

“You know,” Woop Slap said after a pause, “that boy’s not stupid.” He paused again, realizing he’s wrong, “Okay, he’s an idiot and loud, wild, even more, but something about that boy means well..”

She walked over to the door and picked up her bag, slinging it over her shoulder.

“That’s fine,” she said, turning the knob. “He’s gonna find me someday and he’s gonna introduce me to his beloved crew and I’d probably cry from being too proud of him or something, I thought of this, y’know.”

“And if he doesn’t?”

She didn’t answer.

Instead, she opened the door to the cool dawn air and stood in the doorway for a moment, as if trying to remember something she couldn’t quite grasp.

“Take care of them, Mayor,” she said, not turning around. “Take care of my home.”

Mayor Woop Slap knew she didn’t mean her house.

Everything changed, just from one simple mistake.

Isolated, alone, just like she liked, but why is this man in front of her, at her stay?

“Dragon,” she breathed, as if tasting the name for the first time in years. It sat strangely on her tongue, familiar, yet distant. “Why are you here?”

An exasperated sigh escaped her lips. Even breathing has become a chore these days.

“Luffy isn’t with me,” she added, her voice flat. “But he’s fine. Wants to be a pirate. Good for him.” She paused.

“I’m not here for Luffy,” Dragon replied, voice as steady as ever, but she could hear the undercurrent of something else. Concern. Guilt. Maybe both. His eyes, usually unreadable, watched her too closely for her liking.

“Then?” she asked coldly, unwilling to entertain hope.

“I’m here for you.”

She scoffed, sharp, bitter, disbelieving. “Don’t give me that crap,” she snapped. With a shaky exhale, she pushed off the bed, staggering slightly before finding her footing. Even now, she refused to appear weak in front of him. Especially in front of him.

He had been her first heartbreak—not as a lover, but as a brother.

He chose the Revolution over their family. Over her.

She coughed harder, lurched forward in a way Dragon had never seen, he stilled as he stared.

“What?” she said, voice laced with venom and weariness. “Surprised the girl Garp trained like a damn warhound turned out like this?”

There was a pause. Then Dragon said, quietly but firmly, “Garp would’ve never let what they did to you happen.”

That struck something deep. Her jaw clenched, eyes burning—not with tears, but something colder.

“What do you know?” She clenched her hands that were on her side.

“You weren’t there,” She said, barely a whisper. “Neither of you were.”

She clenched her fists tighter and ushering Dragon to come into the humble abode, it was small, it wasn’t a proper house even, but it was enough for her to get by. She glanced at Dragon, who just stood there, looking at her as if she was some form of entertainment.

“How did you know I was here?”

“It took awhile, but I have eyes everywhere.”

Silence filled the air once more, she hated this, hated that Dragon was calculating something in which she had no idea of, the air around started circling while the rain turned thunderous.

“Stop that,” She glared at her older brother, even then, they could still be bickering like siblings, no matter how long time has passed, and contrary to what she thinks, Dragon had always had the best interest for her.

“Also,” she snapped, finally lifting her gaze, eyes blazing, “stop staring at me. Tell me, why are you really here?”

Dragon didn’t flinch. Instead, his voice came steady, deceptively calm, “How was everyone at the village?”

Of all the questions, that was the last she expected.

He was still Dragon, still the stoic, calculated revolutionary. But for a moment, she could see through the cracks. He missed it—home. Their village. The peace they once thought would last.

At least, that’s what she hoped.

“They’re fine,” she replied, voice clipped, unwilling to give him more than he deserved. “They’re doing fine.”

But her brows furrowed. Why ask about the village now? Unless—

“A close confidant of mine died a while back,” Dragon said slowly, the shadows in his voice sharpening. “She was captured by the Celestial Dragons. Died from an experimentation’s side effect… She was someone’s… eighth wife. Before she passed, she left behind her child, she’s growing up with the same side effects.”

She didn’t respond at first. Only stared, a distant memory tugged at her, half-forgotten and buried deep.

“When she escaped and called,” Dragon continued, slower now. “Your name came up.”

That made her blink. Once. Twice. Then a bitter sigh escaped her lips.

“I’m not in cahoots with them,” she said. “If that’s what you’re asking.”

But Dragon wasn’t satisfied. He moved suddenly, grabbing her hand, holding her with more desperation than force. His voice dropped to a growl, “You know exactly what I’m asking.”

“No,” she hissed, trying to pull back. “I wasn’t a wife. I wasn’t subjected to something that cruel.”

It was a lie. Or, at least, a half-truth.

She was the other thing.

And she would never say it—not to Dragon, not even to Garp. Especially not to them.

Dragon stared at her like he was trying to pull the truth from her soul.

“Are you like this because of what they did to you?” he finally asked, voice low.

“No!” Her voice cracked on impact. Raw. Furious. Desperate. “It’s entirely different.”

But even as she said it, her hands trembled. The kind of trembling that doesn’t come from weakness, but from the exhaustion of holding back too much for too long.

“When was the last time you went back to the village?” Dragon asked, his arms folded, voice calm but edged with something deeper. “You told me you didn’t want Luffy to be alone… so why are you here? Come with us. Join the Revolutionaries. We can change things, bring justice to places no one else dares to see.”

She didn’t answer right away.

Instead, she rose from the bed slowly, her bare feet brushing against the cold floor. With trembling hands, she grabbed the front of Dragon’s worn green cloak, clutching it as if she could somehow shake the hypocrisy out of him.

“How dare you,” she said, voice thick with disbelief. “How dare you talk about Luffy being alone.”

Her fists clenched tighter around the fabric. She looked up at him, eyes swimming with unshed tears, not weak, never weak, but exhausted.

“You say that like you weren’t the one who left. You left everything. You don’t get to say that to me,” she spat. “ Me. ”

The last word echoed between them like a punch.

“You only ever cared about the Revolution,” she continued, her voice rising. “If Ginny—” her voice faltered at the name, and it tasted bitter on her tongue, “—if Ginny hadn’t said my name, would you even be standing here right now?”

Her nails dug into the fabric of his cloak. “After everything I went through, everything they did, you think I’d just come crawling back to your cause?” Her voice cracked.

She had once hoped that, just once, someone from her family would come for her .

But Garp had his unwavering loyalty to the Marines, a system that built itself on silence and suppression. Even if he didn’t participate in its cruelty, he never stopped it either.

And Dragon… Dragon had the Revolution. Justice on a grand scale. Justice for the world. Never just for her alone.

And Sh—

“I’m not the only one Luffy has,” she said suddenly, voice quiet, a shift in tone.

Her hands loosened, releasing his cloak. She stepped back.

“He found his own family,” she continued, almost fondly. “You didn’t ask, but… he has brothers. Two of them, I guess… One now.”

She smiled softly, sadly.

“I’m just his aunt. And no matter how much I tried, no matter how much I raised him, nothing will compare to the bond he has with those two boys.” Her voice trembled slightly. “He’s going to be a pirate. He’ll leave when he’s seventeen. I can’t stop him.”

She didn’t need to say it, but it hung there anyway.

Just like you. Just like all of you.

Another person she loved, destined to leave her behind.

She remembered all the little moments Luffy had chosen others over her. The times he chased after Sabo and Ace, leaving her behind in the trees. The nights he rambled on and on about Shanks, eyes glowing with hero worship, until she wondered if he even remembered how she used to sing him lullabies when he had nightmares.

And in those moments, the truth settled in like fog.

She wasn’t the person in his life.

But Luffy—oh, Luffy—he was everything in hers.

“I can’t stop him,” She reiterates, clutching own shirt, over her heart, a feeling of heaviness washing through her. “And I won’t,”

Oro Jackson

30 years ago

“Hey,” Shanks started, his voice light with curiosity as he stared up at the sky. “If you could do anything in the world… what would it be?”

They were lying on the deck of the Oro Jackson, the ship gently rocking beneath them as it sailed through calm waters. The stars above glittered like a sea of fireflies. Buggy snored a few feet away, limbs sprawled out in a mess of blankets and dramatic snoozing.

“Hm…” she hummed thoughtfully, brows furrowed in concentration. “Anything in the world?”

“Yeah. Anything,” Shanks grinned, rolling onto his side to look at her.

“Then I guess…” she trailed off, eyes locked on the stars above, “Anywhere.”

“‘Anywhere’ isn’t something you do, stupid,” Shanks chuckled, reaching over to ruffle her dark hair with affection.

She pouted and swatted at his hand, but not too hard.

“I don’t care,” she admitted, voice soft. “As long as I’m with you guys, it doesn’t really matter what I do. Anywhere would be enough.”

Her eyes sparkled beneath the starlight, and for a moment, Shanks forgot how to breathe.

“The sea sure is pretty,” she added.

“Yeah…” Shanks murmured, though he wasn’t looking at the sea, his gaze stayed fixed on her, his expression a little more serious now, a little softer.

“It’s pretty alright.”

Blood coated her hands. It dripped from her fingertips, splattered across her boots, and soaked through the once-pristine white shirt she was wearing. Crimson trailed along the cracked cobblestones beneath her feet.

The air was thick, still, eerie in its silence. There were no screams, no sirens. No approaching Marine warships, no hurried footsteps of panicked bystanders.

Just bodies. Dozens of them. All fallen in grotesque stillness, twisted mid-motion. Among them, one stood out: a man slumped at the base of the desecrated fountain, clad in the unmistakable attire of a Celestial Dragon. His glass helmet was shattered, the remnants glinting like ice around his pale, lifeless face.

The sun hung low, casting long shadows across. It should have been beautiful, serene even, but the bloodied scene turned it into something else. Something wrong. The stench of iron and ozone lingered in the air.

“Boss?” Lucky Roux’s voice cracked through the silence, uncertain. Even he, always the cheerful, carefree one, looked disturbed, his eyes wide as he took in the carnage.

“You guys stand back,” Shanks said quietly, his tone hard in a way rarely heard. He stepped forward, slowly. Deliberately. His crew obeyed without hesitation. “I’ll handle this.”

She stood at the center of it all, alone, shoulders tight, breath shallow, her face turned slightly toward the dying light of the sky. Her knuckles were scraped raw, arms trembling from restraint more than fatigue.

And yet, the moment she heard his voice—

“Look at this,” Shanks called her name gently, as if afraid he might break her with too much weight behind the word. “What happened here?”

She turned slowly.

Her face, once furrowed with fury or grief, or perhaps both, softened in recognition. That voice. That familiar drawl, steady as the sea and just as endless. It had been years since she'd last heard it, but time did little to dull its comfort.

She dropped the Celestial Dragon’s body like it was nothing more than trash.

Shanks didn’t flinch. He never had, not even when she got like this. But something about the way she looked now, standing ankle-deep in blood with her hands still faintly glowing with Haki, made his heart twist.

No Marines. No Cipher Pol. No Navy dogs on the horizon.

Not even an admiral.

And yet a Celestial Dragon was dead.

“Shanks.”

Her voice was quiet. Hoarse. Almost like it hurt to say it.

Only now did she seem to fully register the chaos surrounding her , the mangled bodies, the blood drying on her clothes.

She was suddenly hyper aware of every breath she took. But still, her eyes didn’t waver from the red-haired man before her.

That hair.

It reminded her of them . It wasn’t recent that she found out about Shanks, she never knew Shanks came from there. Not until much later. He knew her kin, her pain, and still never told her. That betrayal sat bitter at the base of her throat, but this wasn’t the time.

“What are you doing here?” Her voice was still clipped, tight.

“Can’t I greet my favorite Marine?” Shanks offered with a half-hearted grin. It was lighthearted on the surface, but not a single muscle in his body was relaxed. His stance was measured. Ready. Even his smile didn’t reach his eyes.

“Long time no see, Ms. Marine, how are you?”

He walked forward, and with each step, the air thickened with the pressure of Haki, his own Haoshoku clashing faintly against hers. It wasn’t hostile, but it was undeniable. The ground beneath them groaned as if to bear witness to what could happen if they didn’t tread carefully.

Shanks sensed that some of his newer crew members collapsed behind him on their ship, unable to bear the weight of it.

“You’re leaking too much,” she muttered, not looking back at the chaos behind him.

“Right back at you,” Shanks replied dryly. “Half my men are face-down and we haven’t even talked yet.”

Silence again. Not awkward, just... heavy.

“I didn’t think you were the type to kill a Celestial Dragon out in the open like this,” Shanks said eventually, his voice low, gesturing with a small nod toward the bloodied corpse slumped on the stone pavement.

She didn’t look away.

“Didn’t think I’d go this far, to be honest,” she muttered, her breath still unsteady, “Something snapped, I...”

Around them, the air still hung heavy with the iron scent of blood. It was eerily quiet now, but still she realized that this wasn’t a place to linger.

She finally glanced down at her hands, still faintly glowing with the remnants of her power, slick with crimson. Reality began to settle in. The Celestial Dragon lay still. Dead. The world government wouldn’t let this go unpunished.

“It’s not safe here,” she murmured, wiping her palm against her coat with a grimace. “I have to go.”

Shanks looked at her hands, still bloodstained, trembling with something deeper than exhaustion.

“Come with me,” he said suddenly.

She stared at him. “What?”

“Not forever,” he clarified. “Just for a while. You need to disappear. At least until the heat dies down.”

“I’m not afraid of this.”

“I know,” he said, his voice gentle. “You were never afraid of anything, were you?”

Shanks smiled sadly. “But you think I want to watch them erase you? You think I haven’t seen what happens to people who stand up to them ?”

She didn’t respond. Her jaw tightened. Her whole body was wound tight, like the wrong word could make her snap.

But Shanks didn’t move closer. He just let the weight of his words hang between them, steady as the sea.

The sea he had chosen over her.

“Shanks,” She had whispered, loud enough for Shanks to hear, “I’m dying.”

Shanks’ smile faltered.

Just slightly.

Enough for her to notice.

The weight of her words settled like lead between them. The battlefield, the blood, the bodies, suddenly all of it dimmed beneath the gravity of what she had just confessed.

“I’m dying,” she said again, this time with a strange calm. Not a plea. Not even sorrow. Just… fact.

Shanks’ brows pulled together. “What are you talking about?” Shanks’ fists clenched at his sides. “Have you told anyone ?”

She didn’t answer. She didn’t have to.

Of course she hadn’t.

“That’s why you’re doing all this,” he said, looking at the carnage around them. “You think if you go out swinging, it’ll mean something.”

“No," She shook her head, but gave no explanation, "you wouldn’t understand even if I told you.”

Shanks stepped even closer now. Close enough to see the cracks in her mask, the tremble in her lips, he wasn’t sure if that was from adrenaline or some sort of weakness.

“You always felt too much,” he said softly. “Even back then. That’s what made you beautiful.”

“Don’t even start, Red-haired,” She spat out, not wanting for old feelings to resurface, but she knew why Shanks was saying nonsense, “Why are you even here, go back to your precious Red Force,”

“I’m not letting you die here,” Shanks said with finality. “Not like this. Not alone. Not in blood.”

Her eyes met his. And for a brief moment, she looked like that girl again. The one who laughed too loud. Who dared to dream, even when dreaming was a crime for herself at that time.

“Shanks, that’s not why I told you.” She closed her eyes, feeling too much.

Her voice was low, ragged, as her bloodied fingers curled into the fabric of his coat, dragging him closer. Her breath ghosted just shy of his lips, had the moment been different, it might’ve meant something else entirely.

“I’m not your captain,” she said through clenched teeth, each word laced with bitterness. Her grip on him tightened. “I will never be your captain.”

Shanks didn’t speak. He understood. This wasn’t a moment for argument, this was her flare, her fire still burning even as her strength faded. Letting her talk was the only right thing to do.

“Don’t you dare,” she rasped, drawing in a breath that trembled, “don’t you ever dare let my body fall into the hands of those World Government bastards. Do you hear me?”

Shanks’s expression darkened, but he remained silent, his eyes steady on hers.

“Shanks.” Her voice cracked, and something unfamiliar flashed across her eyes, grief, anger, betrayal. Something raw. “As much as you hurt me… as much as you humiliated me…The times where you forced me to even think about leaving Foosha for good, but even then…”

She faltered, her knees buckling. Shanks caught her before she could fall.

“I trust you more than anyone,” she breathed, almost like a confession. “More than Dragon. More than Garp.”

"So that's why I want you to—"

And that was the truth that broke her, Shanks widened his eyes at the revelation she had just spat out.

This woman, the Vice Admiral feared across seas, the sister of the world’s most wanted man, the grandchild of a Marine legend, was strong. She wielded all three forms of Haki. She had once sailed under the Pirate King (Though as a mere stowaway)

She was strong.

Until she wasn’t.

As the tears finally fell, they didn’t fall from weakness, but from the weight of everything she was never allowed to say. It cascaded to her bloodstained cheeks, she faltered.

All that strength, the kind that had carried nations on her back, that had stared down gods and monsters, trembled now in the space between her and Shanks.

“I have no idea how and why you’re here, but I trust you , Shanks,” she whispered again, as if saying it louder would make it too real, too dangerous. “So don’t… don’t let them get their hands on me, don’t you dare let them near me…”

Shanks swallowed hard. Her grip on him was iron, trembling but stubborn.

“I won’t,” he said at last. “Not a damn bone of you will be theirs.”

Her head dropped forward, resting against his shoulder now, the weight of her frame sinking into his. She wasn’t unconscious, but she was tired. Soul-tired.

“You always did talk too much,” he murmured into her hair, voice low, trying to steady her. His coat draped itself around her shoulders like instinct, like memory. “You could’ve just said you wanted me to stay.”

“Shut up,” she muttered weakly, and he almost smiled.

The air around them was heavy still, tainted with blood and silence, but it was no longer suffocating.

Behind him, Lucky Roux and Yasopp kept their distance. Not out of fear. But reverence. They knew better than to interrupt this kind of moment.

“Don’t fall asleep on me just yet,” Shanks whispered. “We’ve still got a ship to catch.”

She let out a broken chuckle.

“I just…” she rasped, a trail of blood leaving past her lips, trembling with every word she had forcefully spat out. “Wished I could see Luffy, just one last time.”

And just like that, Shanks’ composure cracked. Just for a second.

Because he knew he wouldn't be able to fulfill her wish.

And so, without another word, he held her tighter. As if that could stop the inevitable. As if memory and history and pain could hold her here.

And for the first time in a long, long while—

Red-Haired Shanks was afraid.

#i ended up continuing it LOL #shanks x reader #ace x reader #luffy x reader #marine!reader #its going to be 3 chapters #extra info on the replies!#reader has abandoment issues and it shows #it was supposed to be a lil tiny bit #but oh wow she has problems

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lee-laurent · 6 months ago

Text

Home Away From Home -- Luke Hughes

Summary: Annika isn't gonna fall for the stupid hockey guy her parents are housing... right?

content: angst, implied smut but no explicit smut, some makeout scenes, fluff!!

wc: 8.9k

notes: i love this trope so here we are!! enjoy!!

Annika hadn't signed up for this.

She sat at the kitchen island, her arms crossed, watching her mom fuss over a plate of freshly baked cookies. George Thompson, her dad, was setting up the dining table with an enthusiasm that made her roll her eyes. The boys--twelve-year-old Alex and nine-year-old Flynn--were practically shaking with excitement.

"Do we really need cookies?" Annika asked, a touch of exasperation in her tone. "We're not adopting a puppy. He's just a guy. A hockey player, at that."

Andrea turned, a stern look on her face. "Annika, be polite. Luke is our guest. He's going to be a part of this family while he's here."

"Right," Annika muttered, "because this house isn't already crowded enough."

"Hey!" Alex piped up, shooting her a look of betrayal. "Luke Hughes is not just a guy. He's going to play for the Devils! He's super awesome!"

"Yeah!" Flynn added. "And he's way cooler than your boring boyfriend."

Annika groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. "For the last time, Bryce and I broke up like three months ago."

"Probably cause he wasn't cool like a real NHL player!" Alex nodded.

Andrea shot the boys a warning glance but said nothing as she placed the plate of cookies at the centre of the table. "All I'm saying, Nick, is that this is a big adjustment for him too. He's young, he's new to Jersey, and he needs a supportive home environment. So please, try to make him feel welcome."

Nick refrained from commenting, though her skepticism must have been obvious, because her dad chuckled. "Come on, Nick. You might like the kid. Who knows?"

She doubted it. Sure, Luke Hughes was talented--she'd heard her brothers talk about him nonstop since her parents agreed to host him--but "some guy who skates for a living" didn't exactly sound like the type of perso she wanted to hang out with.

Still, when the doorbell rang, she couldn't help but feel a little curious.

Luke hadn't expected to feel nervous.

But as he stood on the porch of the Thompsons' suburban house, duffle bag swung over one shoulder, his nerves hit him like a train. He rang the doorbell twice, the chime ringing out into the evening air.

The door swung open, and two kids stared up at him like he was a rockstar.

"Whoa," the older one--Alec or Alex, Luke couldn't remember--breathed. "You're really Luke Hughes."

Flynn just blinked, his jaw practically on the floor. "You're so tall," he finally said, wide-eyed.

Luke laughed awkwardly, glancing past the kids as an older man appeared in the doorway.

"You must be Luke," George said warmly, extending a hand. "Come on in, son. Welcome to our home."

"Thanks for having me," Luke said, stepping inside. The house smelled like cookies and furniture polish--cozy and warm, a sharp contrast to the hockey house he'd lived in the last two years.

The rest of the family came into view, and Luke felt the weight of their attention. A kind-looking woman who must've been Mrs. Thompson smiled warmly, and then his gaze landed on the girl standing behind her.

She was... unexpected.

Annika's arms were crossed, her expression unreadable. She didn't seem particularly thrilled to see him, though Luke couldn't tell if that was because of him or if she was just naturally unimpressed by life.

"This is Annika, our oldest," Andrea said, gesturing to her daughter.

Luke offered a hand. "Hi."

"Hey," Annika replied shortly, barely glancing at him before turning to her mom. "Can we eat now, or...?"

Luke's hand fell awkwardly to his side. Okay, then.

Luke followed the Thompsons into the dining room, where the table was already set with a plate of cookies and some milk. He wasn't sure if it was meant to be welcoming or if they thought he was still ten years old, but the gesture was nice.

"Sit, sit!" Andrea said, waving him toward the table like he was royalty.

He slid into a chair, his bag at his feet. Across the table, the two boys continued to gape at him like he had two heads.

"Can I touch it?" Flynn blurted out, and Luke's eyebrows shot up.

"Your hockey stick," Alex clarified, giving his brother an exasperated shove.

"Uh, yeah, sure," Luke said, chuckling nervously. "I left it by the door. I can show you later."

"Awesome!" Flynn squealed.

Nick, leaning against the doorway with her arms still crossed, looked like she might die of secondhand embarrassment. Her blue eyes were narrowed in thinly veiled irritation.

"Boys, give him a minute to settle in," Andrea scolded softly. "Luke, you can call me Andrea, and that's my husband George." She gestured at her husband, who was helping himself to a cookie. "You've met the boys, Alex and Flynn."

"Yep," Luke said with a smile. "They're... enthusiastic."

"And Nick already introduced herself."

"Nick?" Luke tilted his head, confused.

Annika sighed as though she'd had to explain this a million times. "It's short for Annika. You know, like a nickname?"

"Oh. Got it."

Luke was quickly starting to realize that Annika wasn't the "warm and fuzzy" type.

"Nick's a student at Rutgers," George chimed in, as though sensing he needed to fill the silence. "She's studying communications. Smart kid, but she's a bit of a grump."

"Dad," Nick said sharply, though her cheeks flushed slightly pink.

"Don't mind her," George added with a conspiratorial grin. "She's just mad she doesn't have her bathroom all to herself anymore."

Nick shot Luke a look, and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Sharing a bathroom? Great. This was going to be... interesting.

By the time Luke hauled his duffle bag up the stairs, he was ready to crash. The Thompsons were nice--mostly--but the whirlwind of introductions had left him drained.

"This is you," George opened a door at the end of the hall. The room was small but tidy, with a twin bed, a desk, and a window overlooking the backyard.

"Thanks," Luke said, dropping his bag onto the bed.

"Bathroom's just down there to the left," George added. "Sorry in advance if Nick complains about you using it. She's not used to sharing."

Luke nodded, unsure how to respond. George clapped him on the back and left, leaving him alone to unpack.

"Just so we're clear," Nick showed up in the doorway. "I don't care if you're some big hotshot hockey player. It's still my house, and if you leave your gross hockey gear lying around, I will throw it out."

Luke blinked, caught off guard. "Uh... noted?"

"Good," she said, her tone sharp enough to cut steel. She started to leave, then paused, glancing over her shoulder. "And don't take forever in the bathroom. Some of us actually have places to be besides the hockey rink."

Before he could respond, she was gone, leaving Luke standing there with a pair of socks in his hands and the faintest trace of a smirk on his face.

She was definitely going to be a challenge.

Nick woke up the next morning to the sound of running water and muffled thud from next door. Groaning, she rolled over and squinted at the clock on her nightstand. It was barely 6:30 a.m.

"Seriously?" she muttered, pushing the covers off.

Her first day sharing a bathroom with Luke was off to a fantastic start. Wrapping herself in her fluffy robe, she shuffled out of her room, only to nearly collide with Flynn, who was standing in the hallway, clutching his toothbrush.

"Is he still in there?" Nick asked, jerking her thumb toward the bathroom door.

"Yeah," Flynn said, his voice tinged with awe. "I think he's doing hockey stuff. Like stretches or whatever."

Nick raised an eyebrow. "In the bathroom?"

Flynn shrugged, and Nick let out an exasperated sigh. She banged on the door. "Hey, Hughes! Some of us need to use the bathroom too, you know!"

There was a brief pause before the door cracked open, revealing a very shirtless Luke. His hair was wet, beads of water clinging to his skin, and he held a towel loosely around his waist.

Nick froze.

"Uh... sorry?" Luke said, looking sheepish. "I didn't think anyone else would be up yet."

"Yeah, well," Nick snapped, forcing herself to look anywhere but at his chest, "you're not living in a bachelor pad, so maybe keep it moving."

"Right. Got it." He stepped aside, gesturing toward the sink to let her pass.

Nick brushed past him, her cheeks burning, and shut the door firmly behind her.

When Nick made it to the kitchen, she was still fuming. Flynn and Alex were already seated at the table, shoveling cereal into their mouths like Luke sat across from them, wearing a hoodie and looking way too innocent.

"Morning," Andrea chirped, sliding a plate of scrambled eggs in front of Nick. "Sleep okay?"

"Would've been better if someone didn't turn the bathroom into his personal sauna," Nick muttered, shooting a pointed look at Luke.

To her annoyance, he just smirked. "I'll set an alarm for 6:29 next time. How's that?"

Alex snorted milk out of his nose, and Flynn started laughing so hard he nearly fell out of his chair.

"Luke's funny," Flynn declared, as though it was groundbreaking news.

"Luke's annoying," Nick corrected, stabbing her eggs with a little more force than necessary.

Andrea sighed. "Annika, be nice. Luke, honey, make sure Annika has time in the bathroom too."

"Yes ma'am," Luke grinned.

Nick glared at him, but his smile only grew.

Nick had classes at Rutgers until late afternoon, which was usually her excuse to escape the chaos of her house. Today, though, chaos seemed determined to follow her.

She was sitting at her favourite coffee shop near campus, trying to focus on a group project, when her phone buzzed with a text from Alex.

Alex (12:34 PM): Guess what??? Luke said he'd come to my game on Saturday!!!

Nick rolled her eyes but responded anyway.

Nick (12:35 PM): wow! cool, bud. tell him to pack an extra helmet in case you miss a slapshot

Her phone buzzed again almost immediately.

Alex (12:36PM): u r not funny

Nick smirked, but her amusement was short-lived. A voice behind her said, "You look like you're plotting someone's downfall."

She turned to see Luke standing there, hands shoved in the pocket of his hoodie, looking slightly out of place in the sea of students.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, frowning.

"Your mom said you had the extra car... and I need a lift to the rink."

Nick blinked. "So you walked here? Just Google how to walk to the rink."

Luke shrugged. "Figured you'd just let me borrow the car."

She sighed, grabbing her laptop and shoving it into her bag. "Fine. Come on."

That evening, after dinner, the boys dragged Luke into the living room for a mini hockey practice. Flynn wore a devishly determined look as he tried (and failed) to get the puck past Luke, while Alex gave commentary.

Nick watched from the sofa, trying not to smile. It was hard to keep her guard up when Luke was crouched on the floor, pretending to dramatically miss a save just to make Flynn cheer.

"He's good to them," Andrea whispered, sitting down beside her.

Nick blinked, startled. "Huh?"

"Luke," Andrea said, nodding towards the game of floor-hockey. Luke had ruffled Flynn's hair, earning a high-pitched giggle, and Alex was laughing so hard he had to clutch his side.

"Yeah, I guess," Nick admitted reluctantly. She wasn't ready to admit that Luke might've been slightly, a tiny bit okay-ish.

She wasn't sure when she started noticing the little things about Luke.

Maybe it was the way he always made time to answer Alex and Flynn's endless questions about hockey. Or how he seemed genuinely interested in her every meal her mom made.

Or maybe it was that he wasn't as cocky and annoying as she'd originally thought.

Not that she'd admit it.

Saturday morning found Nick sitting in the bleachers at Alex's hockey game, sipping a lukewarm coffee and trying to focus on anything other than Luke, who was perched on the edge of the bench next to Flynn.

"Think he'll embarass himself?" Luke asked, lowly enough that only Annika could hear.

"Alex?" Nick smirked. "Absolutely. He lives for the drama."

Luke laughed, and Nick hated how much the sound didn't make her cringe. He was wearing a Devils cap pulled backwards over his messy curls, a plain hoodie, and an easy smile. It was almost... attractive.

The game started, and Alex threw himself into it with the subtlety of a wrecking ball. He wasn't the most skilled player on the ice, but his enthusiasm was unmatched.

"Go, Alex!" Flynn shouted, nearly toppling over the edge of the bench.

Nick found herself glancing at Luke occasionally, surprised by how invested he looked. He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, watching Alex like it was Game 7 of the Stanley Cup Finals.

When Alex scored--a chaotic, scrappy goal that Nick was pretty sure only counted because the ref was feeling generous--Luke jumped up to his feet, clapping and cheering louder than anyone else.

"You act like it's the Olympics," Nick teased as he sat back down.

"What? That was awesome!" he said, still smiling like an idiot. "Kid's got guts."

Nick shook her head, but a smile tugged at her lips. She hadn't seen Alex light up like that in a long time.

The parking lot was full of parents chatting as they loaded their kids and gear into cars. Alex was still on cloud nine, his sweaty hair sticking to his forehead as he recounted his goal for the tenth time.

"And then I deked left, and the goalie totally fell for it!" Alex said, demonstrating with exaggerated movements.

"More like you tripped into the puck," Nick teased, ruffling his hair.

Alex scowled. "You weren't even paying attention!"

"I was," Luke cut in, slinging an arm around Alex's shoulders. "And I think it was a sick goal."

Alex beamed up at him, and Nick had to admit--grudgingly--that Luke's support was doing wonders for her brothers' confidence.

"Thanks, Luke," Alex said. "Maybe you could help me practice my shot sometime?"

"Yeah, anytime, dude," Luke said without hesitation.

Nick's mom appeared then, holding Alex's bag. "Luke, seems like you're fitting in just fine around here."

Nick rolled her eyes but didn't comment.

Back at the house, Alex and Flynn insisted on replaying the game on the living room floor, complete with mini-sticks, a foam ball, and way too much shouting.

Nick sat, pretending to read while Luke crouched on the floor, acting as a goalie.

"Careful," Luke warned, blocking one of Flynn's shots. "I don't want to break another lamp."

"That was Alex's fault!" Flynn protested.

"Was not!" Alex shouted, aiming another shot.

Nick couldn't help but laugh as the foam ball ricocheted off the wall and into Luke's chest.

"Game over," Luke declard, collapsing dramatically onto the floor.

The boys groaned, but Nick was grateful for the silence as they finally trudged upstairs, still arguing about whose shot was better.

Luke sat up, running a hand through his hair. "Your brothers are intense."

"They're obsessed with you," Nick said, closing her book. "It's kind of nauseating."

"Jealous?"

"Of what? The chaos? No, thanks."

He stood, stretching, and Nick's eye flicked to the hem of his shirt, which rode up just enough to reveal a sliver of toned abs. She quickly looked away, hoping her cheeks weren't as red as they felt.

"Good game today," she said, standing and heading toward the stairs before he could say anything else.

"Thanks," he called after her, and there was something in his voice that made her stomach flip.

Nick paced back and forth in her room, her phone pressed to her ear as she tried to keep her voice down.

"I'm telling you, Mia," she whispered, "he's insufferable. Like, he doesn't do anything that bad, but the fact that he exists in my house is enough to drive me fucking insane."

On the other end of the line, Mia snorted. "Translation: You're fucking obsessed with him."

"What! No?" Nick flopped onto her bed, glaring at the ceiling. "I'm just... he's in my way. All the time. The bathroom thing? Unforgivable. And he's always around, charming my brothers and being all polite to my mom, and--it's annoying!"

"You're mad because he's polite?" Mia teased. "Wow, Nick, you're really reaching."

Nick groaned, throwing an arm over her face. "You don't get it. He's--ugh. He's just one of those guys, you know? All... awkwardly cute and unexpectedly funny and stupidly attractive--"

"Uh-huh," Mia interrupted, her voice laced with amusement. "Say that last part again?"

Nick sat up, her face heating. "I didn't mean it like that!"

"Sure you didn't."

"Mia," Nick hissed, her eyes darting toward the door. "I'm serious. He's just--fine, okay? I'll admit it. He's hot. Like ridiculously, stupidly hot. But that doesn't mean I don't hate his guts."

"Hate his guts? You sure you don't just want him to rearrange yours?"

Nick groaned. "I can't stand you?"

"And yet here you are, calling me for emotional support about your hot hockey housemate," Mia said smugly. "What a tragedy."

"He's just... objectively attractive. I can hate someone and still recognize that they're good-looking. Those two things can coexist."

"Sure, Nick," Mia giggled. "Whatever you say."

Nick groaned, burying her face in her pillows.

Flynn crouched in the hallway, his ear pressed to the crack under Nick's door. Beside him, Alex knelt, covering his mouth so he didn't giggle too loudly.

"Did she just say Luke is hot?" Flynn whispered, eyes wide.

"She totally did," Alex grinned.

Flynn giggled. "We have to tell him!"

"Duh," Alex said, scrambling to his feet.

The boys darted down the stairs, giggling like they'd just discovered the best secret in the world.

Luke was sitting in the living room, flipping through channels on the TV, when they skidded to a stop in front of him.

"Luke!"

"You're not gonna believe this!"

Luke quirked an eyebrow, setting the remote down. "What's up, guys?"

"Nick thinks you're hot!" Flynn blurted out, unable to contain himself.

Luke blinked, caught completely off guard. "What?"

"She said it on the phone," Alex explained. "She was talking to her friend, and she said you're 'ridiculously, stupidly hot.'"

Flynn nodded eagerly. "She also said you're annoying, but mostly that you're hot."

Luke huffed out a laugh, leaning back against the couch. "She actually said that?"

"Yup!" Flynn said proudly.

Luke shook his head, a slow grin spreading across his face. "Alright. Thanks for the intel."

The boys high-fived and ran off, leaving Luke alone with his thoughts.

Ridiculously, stupidly hot, huh?

He filed that tidbit away, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. He didn't plan on using it right away--but when the right moment came, he'd be ready.

A few hours later, Nick came downstairs to grab a glass of water, grateful that the house was finally quiet. She froze when she saw Luke in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a glass in hand.

"Couldn't sleep?" he asked casually.

"Nope," she said shortly, pouring herself some water.

As she turned to leave, she felt his eyes on her, and her steps faltered.

"What?" she snapped, glancing over her shoulder.

Luke shook his head, his expression unreadable. "Nothing. Just... interesting."

"What's interesting?"

"Nothing you'd want to admit," he said with a slight smirk, turning back to his drink.

Nick scowled, marching back upstairs, vowing to ignore whatever cryptic nonsense he was playing at. Behind her, Luke chuckled softly to himself, his smirk only growing.

Annika was still determined to go about her life as if nothing had happened. Luke was still the irritating, too-hot-for-his-own-good hockey player who'd invaded her space. Nothing more.

But he wasn't making it easy.

It started small. Like how he suddenly seemed to be everywhere she was.

Case in point: the kitchen.

Nick had just finished a workout and was rummaging through the fridge for a bottle of water when Luke appeared, freshly showered and leaning against the kitchen island.

"Morning," he said, annoyingly chipper.

"Morning," she replied shortly, avoiding eye contact.

"Work out hard?" he asked, his gaze sweeping over her.

Nick's head snapped up. "What?"

"You're all flushed," he said innocently, taking a slow sip of his protein shake. "Maybe you overdid it."

Her cheeks heated further, and she hated that he'd noticed. "I'm fine," she said, grabbing her water and slamming the fridge shut.

Luke smirked, watching her retreat.

That weekend, Andrea sent Nick and Luke to pick up groceries. It was supposed to be a simple errand, but the tension between them was thick enough to cut with a knife.

Nick fiddled with the AUX, flipping through songs until Luke reached over and stilled her hand.

"Pick something already," he said, his fingers brushing hers.

The touch was brief but electric, and Nick pulled her hand back like she'd been burned.

"What's your problem?" she snapped.

Luke shrugged, trying to conceal his amusement. "No problem. You just seem... jumpy."

"I'm not jumpy," she said through gritted teeth.

"Okay?"

Nick gripped the phone a little tighter, silently cursing him and the stupid butterflies in her stomach.

That evening, the family decided to have a movie night. Nick reluctantly joined, sinking into the sofa and snatching the bowl of popcorn.

Luke sat beside her, closer than necessary, his knee brushing against hers as he man-spread.

She stiffened, but he didn't move.

"Comfortable?" she asked, shooting him a pointed look.

"Very," he said innocently.

Andrea shushed them, and Nick tried to focus on the film. But every time Luke shifted, she was hyper-aware of the warmth of his thigh against hers.

Halfway through, he reached for the popcorn, knocking her arm with his.

"Do you mind?" she hissed under her breath.

"Not at all."

Nick gritted her teeth, determined to ignore him. But when the movie ended and she stood to leave, he softly caught her wrist.

"Hey," he said, locking eyes with her. "Relax. I'm just messing with you."

Her breath caught in her throat, and for a second, she couldn't look away.

"Whatever," she muttered, yanking her hand free and hurrying upstairs.

Alex and Flynn barreled into the kitchen, sweaty and red-faced from playing street hockey.

"We crushed the neighbours!" Alex announced, dropping his stick and gloves on the floor.

Flynn followed suit, throwing himself onto one the barstools at the island. "Yeah, but Alex missed like ten open shots."

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

"Guys," Nick interrupted. "Gear in the laundry room. Now."

The boys groaned but trudged off, muttering under their breath. A minute later, Luke strolled in, hair damp from a shower. He grabbed a water bottle from the fridge and hopped to sit on the counter, watching Nick with his lopsided grin.

"You run a tight ship," he teased.

"Someone has to when my parents aren't home."

Before Luke could respond, the boys returned, still arguing.

"Whatever," Alex said, rolling his eyes. "At least I'm not as bad as Bryce."

Nick scowled, her stomach sinking. "What does Bryce have to do with anything?"

"Nothing," Flynn said, grabbing a cookie off the counter. "Just saying Alex is better than him at hockey."

Luke's brow furrowed, gaze flickering between Annika and the boys. "Who's Bryce?"

"No one," Nick glared at Alex.

"Her boyfriend," he said, completely ignoring her. "Well, ex-boyfriend. He was like super into hockey but I think he sucked. Nick used to help him with his stats for school."

Nick shot him another warning look. "Shut up, Alex."

Flynn, too young to realize the tension in the room, chimed in, "He coached Alex's team last year, but he's not as cool as you, Luke."

Annika could feel Luke's eyes on her and turned away, busying herself with wiping an already-clean counter. "Bryce is like... history. Can we drop it now?"

The boys shrugged, losing interest as they rushed off to play Xbox.

Luke lingered, arms crossed, watching her closely. "So... Bryce?"

Nick sighed, turning to face him. "It's not a big deal. We dated for a while. It didn't work out. End of story."

Luke nodded slowly, though his expression shifted slightly. "Sounds like a real winner."

Nick narrowed her eyes. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing... nothing. Just that he doesn't sound like much competition."

"Competition for what?"

He shrugged. "Relax, Annika."

"You're fucking insufferable," she mumbled, pushing past him and heading for the stairs.

Luke was still thinking about Bryce.

He told himself it didn't matter, that it was none of his business, but the image of some guy hanging around Nick, talking hockey and being such an important part of her brothers' games, made his chest feel tight.

Jealousy wasn't a good look on him, but there it was, simmering just under the surface.

He was sprawled on the couch when Nick came downstairs again, her arms full of laundry. She stopped when she saw him, a guarded look on her face.

"Still brooding about Bryce?"

Luke smirked, trying to mask his annoyance. "Why would I brood about some guy I've never met?"

"Good question."

Her tone was casual, but the way she avoided his gaze told him she was more affected by their earlier conversation than she cared to admit.

She shook her head, going to walk past him. But just like the other night, he grabbed her wrist. "For the record, I don't think he deserved you."

Nick just stared at him, blinking slowly.

"Goodnight, Nick."

And with that, he got up and walked away, leaving a very confused Annika in his wake.

The rain started in the late afternoon, a light drizzle that quickly turned into a full-on downpour.

By the time Nick got home from class, her sneakers were soaked, and her hair was plastered to her face. She shoved the door open with a grunt, muttering curses under her breath.

"Rough day?"

She startled, looking up to see Luke in the living room, also soaking wet, with his bag slung over his shoulder. He must've just gotten back from practice.

"Rain fucking sucks," she said shortly, kicking off her shoes and peeling off her wet socks and jacket.

"Not a fan of Jersey weather?"

"Not when I have to walk through it because someone took the car," she snarled, brushing past him on her way to the kitchen.

He followed, watching as she rummaged through a cabinet for a snack. "Where's the rest of your family?"

"Out," she said, grabbing a box of crackers. "My mom took the boys to the movies, and my dad's working late. Why?"

"Just curious."

Nick turned to look at him, but before she could reply, a sudden crack of thunder made the house shake. The lights flickered once, twice, and then everything went dark.

"You've got to be kidding me," she groaned, fumbling for her phone.

"Relax," Luke said, his voice steady. "It's just a power outage."

"No big deal for you, maybe," she muttered. "I've got work to do."

"Yeah? What kind of work?"

"The kind that requires electricity."

"Well, unless you can magically fix the power grid, I'd say you're stuck."

Nick rolled her eyes, but she couldn't ignore the flutter in her chest at the way his voice sounded in the dark--low and teasing, but with an edge she couldn't quite place.

"Great. Guess I'll just sit here and wait for the apocalypse."

"Or," Luke said, his voice closer now, "you could stop being so dramatic and light some candles."

Nick scowled, but another loud crack of thunder made her jump.

Luke laughed. "Scared of storms?"

"Of course not," she snapped, though her hands were trembling slightly.

"Right."

Nick shook her head, retreating to her bedroom, hoping to escape the weird tension that always settled between them. She lit a few candles, their warm glow casting flickering shadows on the walls, and tried to focus on her textbook.

But her thoughts kept drifting--to the storm, to the empty house, and to Luke.

She didn't even hear him knock.

"Hey," he said. "Mind if I hang out in here? It's kind of creepy downstairs."

Nick raised an eyebrow. "You're a professional hockey player, and you're scared of the dark?"

"Not scared. Just bored."

She sighed, gesturing for him to come in. He shut the door behind him and sat on the edge of her bed, his presence suddenly overwhelming in the small space.

For a while, they sat in silence, the sound of rain pounding against the windows filling the room.

"You're quiet," Luke said eventually.

"So are you."

He glanced at her, his eyes catching the candlelight in a way that made her stomach flip. "You've been weird around me lately."

"I'm always weird around you."

"Not like this," he whispered.

Her heart started thudding against her chest. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Nick."

She froze at the way he said her name--soft, almost pleading. When she finally looked at him, the intensity his gaze made her breath catch.

"Are we just gonna keep pretending this thing between us doesn't exist?"

"What thing?"

Luke huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. "You're really gonna make me say it?"

She didn't answer, and in the silence that followed, he got closer.

The air between them crackled, the storm outside quiet in comparison to the sound of her heart.

"I think about you... way more than I should."

Her breath hitched at his words, and he leaned in, his hand brushing hers.

"Nick," he whispered, his lips hovering just inches from hers. "Tell me to stop."

But she didn't.

Instead, she closed the distance, her mouth crashing against his in a messy kiss of spit and teeth.

His hands quickly found her waist, pulling her until they tumbled onto the bed. Hers found the curls at the nape of his neck. And outside, the storm faded into nothing.

The storm had become nothing but a soft patter of rain against the windows. Nick lay across her bed, Luke's arm draped lazily across her waist as they caught their breath.

The room was warm and still dark, the flickering candlelight casting a soft glow over their bodies. Nick could feel the steady rise and fall of Luke's chest against her back, his skin sticky but still comforting against hers.

"You're sweaty," she mumbled, her voice muffled by the pillows.

Luke chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest. "So are you."

She wrinkled her nose but didn't move, too content--and too tired--to care.

They lay there in comfortable silence for a while, the weight of what had just happened settling over them. It wasn't awkward, though. If anything, it felt... right.

Luke broke the silence. "You know, the candles really set the mood."

Nick snorted, turning her head to look at him. "Oh, totally. Very romantic."

"You don't think so?"

She rolled her eyes, biting her bottom lip. "Honestly? It might've been the most romantic sex I've ever had."

"High praise."

"Don't let it go to your head."

They fell quiet again, Nick tracing lazy circles on Luke's arm as his fingers skimmed along her hip.

"Can I tell you something?" Luke said suddenly.

"Sure."

"Your brothers... they told me."

"Told you what?"

"That you think I'm hot."

"They what?!"

"Yeah," Luke smirked, clearly enjoying her reaction. "Apparently, you were on the phone with your friend, and they overheard you saying I'm 'ridiculously, stupidly hot.'"

Nick stuffed her face in the pillows, groaning. "Oh my God. I'm gonna fucking kill them!"

"I mean," Luke continued, "I wasn't going to say anything, but now that we're here."

"Shut up."

He laughed, gently tugging her out of the pillows. "Hey, I'm flattered. Really."

"Don't be," she said, though the blush creeping up her neck betrayed her.

Luke leaned in, his lips brushing against her temple. "For the record, I think you're ridiculously, stupidly hot too. Still wanna kill your brothers?"

"Absolutely," she said, but her voice was lighter now, her cheeks still pink.

Although killing her brothers didn't really matter when she was laying in bed with Luke.

Nick had no idea the thrill that sneaking around would give her.

There was something almost intoxicating about the stolen moments--the way Luke's touch would linger as he walked past her, the charged glances across the room, the whispered goodnights as they traded the bathroom.

It was dangerous and utterly addictive.

She hated how much she liked it.

Family dinners at the Thompsons were always chaotic (as were most things in their house). Andrea was bustling between the kitchen and the dining room, carrying plates of steaming food, while George tried to wrangle Alex and Flynn into their seats.

Luke sat across from Nick, his expression perfectly innocent as he buttered a piece of bread.

Nick didn't trust him for a second.

The meal started without incident--Andrea asking Luke about practice and an upcoming roadie, Flynn babbling about a school project, Alex loudly debating which NHL team had the best defence. Nick tried to focus on her food, keeping her gaze firmly away from the boy across the table.

Until she felt it.

A soft nudge against her ankle.

She froze, her fork halfway to her mouth, and glanced up. Luke's eyes were on his plate, the faintest hint of a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips.

Nick shifted her leg, but the nudge came again--this time more deliberate, slowly moving up her calf.

Her eyes narrowed.

Subtly, she kicked back.

Luke's smirk widened, but he didn't react otherwise, his foot pressing against hers in a way that made her stomach flip.

"Nick," Andrea said, snapping her out of the moment. "Pass the salad, please."

Annika blinked, her face burning as she shoved the salad bowl across the table.

"You okay?" her mom raised an eyebrow.

"Fine," Nick said quickly, glaring at Luke.

He looked up then, his smirk replaced with an innocent smile. "Everything alright, Nick?"

She wanted to throttle him.

Instead, she dropped her napkin on the floor, ducking under the table.

"What're you doing?" Alex asked as she crouched, fumbling for the napkin.

"Nothing," she muttered.

She grabbed the napkin--and Luke's ankle.

He jerked slightly, his leg pulling away, but she squeezed just hard enough to make her point before sitting back up.

"You sure everything's okay?" Andrea asked, her tone tinged with suspicion.

Nick forced a smile, her heart pounding. "Just peachy."

Across the table, Luke's smirk was back, but this time it was tinged with something darker--something that made Nick's breath catch in her throat.

Later that evening, they weren't so lucky.

Andrea had sent the boys upstairs to clean their shared room while she and George tidied up the kitchen. Nick, seizing the opportunity, had slipped into Luke's room under the pretense of "helping him settle." As if he hadn't lived there for weeks.

Luke was waiting for her, his grin smug as he pulled her inside and shut the door.

"You're getting reckless," he teased, his hands sliding around her waist.

"You're the one who started it... and keeps tempting me," she shot back, her voice breathless as he backed her against the closet door.

"Is that so?"

Her lips found hers, and for a moment, she forgot all her worries--her parents, the risk, the fact that her brothers were just down the hall.

Until the footsteps started.

"Luke!"

Nick froze as Flynn's voice rang out.

"Shit," she whispered, shoving Luke back.

He stumbled slightly, but didn't stop smiling. "Relax."

The door burst open a second later, Flynn standing there with hockey stick in hand.

"There you are!" he exclaimed. "Alex and I want you too referee!"

Luke cleared his throat, stepping back even further from Nick. "Uh, yeah, for sure. Be right there."

Flynn squinted at his big sister. "What are you doing in here?"

"Helping him find something," she lied, her face burning.

Flynn shrugged. "Okay, whatever." He turned and darted back down the hall, yelling for Alex."

Nick let out a shaky breath, her head dropping back against the closet.

"That was close."

Luke chuckled, stepping closer again. "Too close?"

"Yes," she hissed, swatting his arm as he leaned in.

"You love it," he teased, his lips brushing her ear before pulling back. "I'll see you later."

And just like that, he was gone, leaving Nick to realize that she did, in fact, love it.

The bathroom was filled with steam, despite the fan being on. The warm spray of the shower drowned out the storm that had started outside.

Nick leaned back against the cool tiled wall, her skin slick with water, as Luke pressed a line of soft kisses along her collarbone.

"This is so stupid," she mumbled, her hands sliding over his shoulders.

"Probably," he agreed, smirking as he pulled back to look at her. "But when have we ever done anything smart?"

"If we get caught--"

"We won't," he promised, pushing his lips against hers.

The sound of a knock at the bathroom door had them both pulling away.

"Luke?" Andrea's voice called from the other side of the door.

"Oh my God," Nick mouthed, her heart hammering inside her chest.

Luke held a hand up, silently telling her to stay silent, before clearing his throat. "Uh--yeah?"

"Have you seen Annika?" Andrea asked. "I thought she might be in her room, but she's not."

Luke shot Nick a panicked look, and she mimed strangling him, her lips forming "fix this."

"Uh, no," Luke said, scrambling for an excuse. "I think she said something about--uh--going for a walk?"

"A walk? In this weather?"

Luke winced, cursing himself for the lame excuse. "Yeah, she, uh...said she likes the rain. Said it's like refreshing or something?"

Nick buried her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking with silent laughter.

There was a long pause on the other side of the door, and Luke could practically feel Andrea's doubt seeping through the wood.

"Well, alright," she said finally, though her tone was still dubious. "Let me know if you see her, okay?"

"Will do," he said, waiting until he heard her footsteps retreating before turning to Nick.

She was doubled over with laughter now, her hands braced against the wall. "Refreshing?" she wheezed, still whispering. "That's the best you could come up with?"

Luke scowled. "You're welcome."

Nick pressed her chest against his, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Guess I should be grateful," she whispered, her lips brushing his ear. "You're quick on your feet when panicking."

"Yeah, well," his hands settled on her waist, "let's just hope your mom doesn't start asking more questions."

Nick smirked, leaning in to kiss him softly. "Guess we'll have to be more careful, huh?"

"Guess so."

They'd barely recovered from their bathroom incident, but Luke seemed determined to push their luck even further.

They were standing in the kitchen, the rest of the family scattered--Andrea folding laundry upstairs, George in his office, and the boys glued to a hockey game on the TV.

Nick was just trying to make herself some tea, trying to ignore Luke's presence at the counter, when she felt him move closer.

"Relax," he wrapped his arms around her waist, leaning in his chin on her shoulder. "Nobody's around."

"Ugh, you're insane."

"Probably," he said.

"Luke, not here," she tried to escape his grasp, but his hockey training must've been paying off because he wouldn't budge.

"Why not?"

"Because we almost got caught earlier. You're pushing our luck. If someone walked i--"

Her words her cut off as he spun her around, her lips ghosting his. She crumbled instantly, her fingers gripping the counter as she kissed him back.

"Annika!"

"Fuck me," she groaned, jerking back so quickly she almost knocked the kettle over.

"Later," Luke retorted, earning a glare.

"What?" she called back.

"I need some help up here! Can you make your brothers' beds?"

"Uh--yeah! I'll be right there, Mom!" She pressed her palms against Luke's chest. "You're a bad influence."

He shrugged, moving to let her escape upstairs with her tea in hand, but not without giving her ass one last squeeze.

"I hate you."

"No you don't."

Luke seemed determined to finish what they started in the shower, because he'd managed to be in the laundry room just as she was heading there to grab her mom a blanket.

"Are you fucking tracking me?"

"Just lucky timing."

"You're going to be the reason we get caught."

"Only if you scream," he teased, boosting her on top of the washing machine.

"Luke..."

"Relax," he pressed a kiss to her neck.

She really wanted to believe that they'd be in the clear down in the basement, but apparently her parents really wanted that spare blanket.

"Let's go, Nick! Chop, chop!" George shouted from the top of the stairs.

"Coming! Coming!"

"God, why is it so hard to get you alone?" Luke groaned.

"Welcome to my life."

It was bound to happen sooner or later.

Nick knew their little game of sneaking around was risky, but she hadn't pushed it to stop. She blamed Luke entirely--his stupid smirk, his stupid face, the way he couldn't seem to ever keep his hands to himself.

But when the door to her bedroom flew open late one afternoon, she swore she had a heart attack.

"Annika!"

Her mom's voice was sharp, the shock in her tone unmistakable as she stood frozen in the doorway.

Nick and Luke jerked apart like they'd been electrocuted, the tangled sheets doing little to hide the situation.

"Mom!" Nick shrieked, her face going bright red as she scrambled to grab the blanket.

Andrea's eyes darted between them, her face covered in disbelief and mortification. "Luke?"

Luke, to his credit, managed a sheepish smile he sat up, adjusting his shirt and ruffling a hand through his hair. "Uh...hi, Andrea."

She blinked, her mouth opening and closing like she was trying to form words but she couldn't process what she was seeing.

"I--I'm gonna go see your father," she shook her head, backing out of the room and slamming the door shut behind her.

Nick groaned, burying her face in her hands. "We're so fucking dead."

Luke flopped back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling. "I told you to lock the door."

"Luke!"

"Yeah, this is... not ideal."

The tension in the living room was palpable as Nick and Luke sat on the sofa, side by side, waiting for her parents to join them. The rest of the house was quiet for once--Alex and Flynn had been banished upstairs with strict instructions not to come down.

Andrea and George finally appeared, their expressions grim as they sat down across from the couple.

"Well," George began, clearing his throat. "This is, uh... unexpected."

Nick wanted to crawl in a hole and die.

Andrea crossed her arms, her gaze sharp as it landed on Luke. "I think we need to have a very serious conversation about boundaries."

Luke nodded quickly, the confidence he'd felt the last few days nowhere to be found. "Of course. Absolutely."

She turned to Nick, her tone just as firm. "Annika, you're an adult, and I understand that you're going to make your own decisions, but this is our home. And there are certain... expectations."

Nick groaned, slouching further into the couch. "Mom--"

"No," Andrea interrupted. "This is important. You're under our roof, and we expect you to be respectful of that."

George cleared his throat again, clearly uncomfortable. "What your mother is trying to say is, uh, we don't want anything... inappropriate happening here."

Nick buried her face in her hands, her voice muffled. "Can we not do this right now?"

"We absolutely need to do this right now," Andrea said, her tone leaving no room for argument.

She turned back to Luke. "We welcomed you into our home, Luke, and we expect you to behave like a gentleman. This... this cannot happen again. Do you understand?"

"Yes, ma'am," Luke said quickly, nodding so fervently it was a wonder his head didn't fall off.

"And that goes for you too, Annika," Andrea added, fixing her with a pointed look.

"I get it," she muttered, her face still hidden.

"Good," Andrea said, standing. "Because if I find you two in a... situation again, you're both going to regret it."

George stood as well, patting Luke awkwardly on the shoulder. "Just, uh, keep things... above board, okay?"

"Got it."

The parents left, leaving Nick and Luke in stunned silence.

After a long pause, Nick finally spoke, her voice still muffled by her hands. "I'm never leaving his house again."

"I don't know. I think that went pretty well," Luke let out a breathless laugh.

Nick finally dropped her hands to glare at him. "Pretty well? Are you kidding me?"

"Hey, at least your dad didn't kill me... or cut off my balls."

"You-- UGH!"

"If you say so."

The shift in the house was obvious.

Andrea seemed to materialize whenever Luke and Annika were in the same room, her watchful gaze making Nick's skin crawl. George was less obvious but still lingered nearby, pretending to fiddle with the thermostat or check a sports score while clearly keeping tabs on them.

Even Alex and Flynn had picked up that something was wrong, their usual teasing replaced with curious glances and hushed whispering.

"Your mom's fucking scary," Luke said one evening, his voice low as he passed Nick in the hallway.

"You're telling me," she muttered, glancing over her shoulder to make sure nobody was around.

Luke smirked, leaning closer. "So... does this mean we're done?"

Nick frowned. "Done with what?"

"This," he gestured between them.

She hesitated, gnawing at her bottom lip. "I don't know. Do you really think it's worth getting caught again?"

Luke leaned against the wall, his grin softening into something more sincere. "Yeah. I do."

"You--"

"I'm insane, I know But I'm not ready to let this go. Are you?"

Her walls crumbled as he reached out, his fingers brushing against hers.

"Fine," she whispered. "But you have to keep it under wraps. I'm not dealing with my mom's wrath again."

"Deal."

Keeping things under wraps was easier said than done.

Every interaction felt like a minefield, with Andrea constantly dissecting their every move.

Luke made it harder by being... well, Luke.

He would brush against her as he passed by. He'd lean in close to whisper something that wasn't remotely necessary.

It was maddening.

One night after dinner, they were in the kitchen, Nick washing dishes while Luke dried. Andrea was sitting at the table, her back to them, flipping through a magazine.

Luke bumped her hip with his, his voice low. "You're tense."

"Gee, I wonder why."

"She's not even looking," he grinned, reaching for a plate.

"She doesn't have to look. She knows everything."

"You're paranoid."

Sitting in the backyard under the stars, finally having time together. Their hands were intertwined as they stared up at the sky.

"Is it really worth all the trouble?" Nick whispered.

"Of course it is," he replied, swinging their hands.

"Why?"

"Because I like you."

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh."

Nick didn't respond, but the smile on her face told him all he needed to know.

A quiet afternoon in the Thompson house was hard to come by. The boys were upstairs playing video games, Andrea and George watching a show in their room.

Nick and Luke were taking advantage, lounging on the sofa and watching a movie.

Well, trying to watch a movie.

Luke kept nudging her with his knee, a silent plea for attention that she ignored for as long as she could.

"What?" she paused the movie, turning to look at him.

"Nothing. Just... thinking."

"Dangerous," she teased, though her stomach fluttered at the way he was looking at her--soft yet serious.

"Nick," he said, his voice lower. "I've been thinking about this for a while now."

"Okay..."

"I want to make this official," he said, his hand finding hers. "I know we've been sneaking around and keeping things quiet, but I... really, really like you. And I want to do this for real."

"You're asking me to be your girlfriend?"

"Yeah... I guess I am."

Nick hesitated. She knew this was risky, that saying yes meant inviting even more complications into their already chaotic situation.

But as she looked at him--his goofy grin, the way his thumb brushed over her knuckles--she knew she couldn't say no.

"Okay. Let's do it."

Luke's grin grew, and before she could second-guess herself, he leaned in and kissed her.

"Ew!"

They sprang apart, Flynn stood in the doorway, his face scrunched in disgust.

"What are you doing?" he demanded, pointing an accusatory finger at them.

Nick scrambled to her feet. "Flynn! Don't you knock?"

"This is the living room!" he retorted. "You can't kiss here!"

Luke cleared his throat, standing up and running a hand through his hair. "Uh, maybe we keep this between us, bud?"

"Why?"

Nick groaned. "Flynn--"

But he was already running toward the kitchen, yelling at the top of his lungs.

It didn't take long for Alex to join the chaos, and before Nick and Luke could figure out what to do, both boys were standing in front of their parents, firing off questions.

"If Luke and Annika get married, does that mean he gets to live here forever?" Flynn asked, his face alight with excitement.

"Wait, does this mean Luke is our brother now?" Alex added, his brow furrowed.

"Do you think Luke will take us to games since he's Annika's boyfriend?"

Andrea's eye widened, snapping to Nick and Luke, who were standing awkwardly in the doorway.

"Annika," she said slowly, her tone suspiciously calm, "is there something you'd like to tell us?"

Nick opened her mouth to respond, but no words came out. She glanced at Luke, silently begging him to say anything, but he looked just as panicked.

"Well?"

Nick swallowed harshly. "It's not what it looks like--"

"It's exactly what it looks like," Flynn interrupted. "They were kissing on the couch!"

"Flynn!" Nick hissed.

Andrea sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose as George rubbed the back of his neck.

"Annika," Andrea said firmly, "we talked about boundaries."

"I know! And we only kissed! We've been careful!"

"Careful? You were kissing in the living room!"

Flynn leaned over to Alex, whispering loudly. "Do you think they kiss a lot?"

Luke coughed, trying to stifle a laugh, but one sharp look from Andrea wiped the grin from his face.

"This isn't funny. We'll be having a conversation about this later."

"Great!" Nick threw her hands up.

There they were, sat on the couch... again. Two angry parents in front of them like they'd just gotten in trouble for something stupid.

"Alright," Andrea said. "Start talking."

Nick glanced at Luke, who gave her a small, reassuring squeeze of the hand before she cleared her throat. "Look, I know this isn't ideal, but... Luke and I really like each other."

"Really like each other?"

Nick nodded, her voice steadier now. "Yes, and we've been trying to keep it low-key because we didn't want to make things weird for everyone else."

Andrea snorted. "Well, that worked out great."

"I know it's a lot to ask," Luke said, leaning forward. "But I care about Nick. A lot. And I don't want to mess up the trust you've shown me by letting me stay here, and I don't want to make things uncomfortable for your family. But I also don't want to pretend I don't... like Nick."

Her gaze softened slightly, though her expression remained guarded. She looked at George, who shrugged.

"They're adults," he said simply. "I'm not thrilled about it, but it's not like we can tell Nick who she can and can't date."

Andrea sighed, hands on her hips. "I guess that's true. But if this is going to continue, there are going to be rules."

Nick and Luke exchanged a quick glance, relief washing over them.

"Rules?" Nick asked cautiously.

"Yes, rules. First, no sleeping in each other's rooms. Doesn't matter if you're both adults, it's my house, that's my rule."

"Understood," Luke nodded.

"Second," she continued, "keep the PDA to a minimum. Especially in front of the boys. I don't need Alex and Flynn asking any more awkward questions."

"Agreed."

"Third...if I catch you breaking these rules, this arrangement is over. Got it?"

"Got it," they said in unison.

"Alright. As long as you respect the rules, I won't stand in your way."

"Thank you," Luke said sincerely.

"Don't screw this up, kid," George whispered to him as he left.

"I won't."

A few months later, the whole Thompson family was packed into The Rock, cheering as the Devils faced off against the Pens.

Alex and Flynn were decked out in jerseys, cheering as loud as they could, while Andrea and George clapped politely whenever Luke's name was mentioned.

Nick sat by her brothers, trying (and failing) to hide her smile every time Luke skated by.

When he scored late in the first period, Flynn jumped out of his seat, yelling at the top of his lungs.

"THAT'S MY SISTER'S BOYFRIEND!"

Nick groaned, pulling her Hughes jersey over her red face as the people around them laughed.

But when Luke glanced at their section, his grin wide as he pointed toward her, she couldn't help but cheer just as loudly.

Because, for better or for worse, Luke was a large part of her life now. And she wouldn't have it any other way.

#nhl imagine #nhl fic #hockey imagine #hockey fic #luke hughes #luke hughes imagine

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queenbee298 · 5 months ago

Note

Hey, can you do one where Y/N has coffee that's really sweet and Doey, being curious, drinks it and gets really hyper before having a sugar crash?

Good idea 👍🏾 Thank you for request this story. Poppy Playtime x Gender Neutral Reader “Finally Free” Request #4. Enjoy the story. Btw it may take a while for me to get all of your request, but I will write them. Lots of fluff ☁️ in this story.

🍬🍬🍬🍬🍬🍬🍬🍬🍬🍬🍬🍬🍬🍬🍬🍬🍬🍬

Like any other day, you woke up at 8:00am, did your daily routine, and make breakfast for your family. The toys woke up and came downstairs for breakfast

Y/N: “Morning kids.”

You prepared waffles, bacon, eggs, and orange juice for your kids. And a coffee for yourself.

Doey was the last one to walk downstairs. He let out a big yawn, showing he’s big, red teeth.

Y/N: “Good morning, Doey.

You placed a kiss on his forehead.

Doey: “Good morning, mama/papa.”

You prepared a plate for yourself and Doey and join the others at the kitchen table. You set your coffee near you and Doey.

Doey: “Mama/Papa, what are you drinking?”

Y/N: “ Just some coffee.”

Doey: “Can I have some?”

Y/N: “No, sir. The last time we need is for you to have a sugar rush.”

Doey pouted a little, but when back to eating. As you and your family were eating breakfast, the door knocked.

Y/N: “Oh! That must be my new camera!”

You ordered a new camera to take pictures of your new family. You left the table, and Doey stared at your mug.

Doey 💭: Now’s my chance! But mom/dad said no. Maybe a little sip won’t hurt.

Doey picked up your mug and took a sip. The coffee was sweet and had a taste of peppermint. Doey chugged your mug until it was empty.

You came back into the kitchen to show off your new camera.

Y/N: “Hey guys, check out my new camera. You want to take some pictures of you all the hang up on the walls.”

Poppy: “That sounds like fun!”

Kissy wrote on her write board: “I want to look perfect for the camera.”

Y/N: “Okay, let’s finish breakfast then we can start.”

You went back to your seat to finish your breakfast. You tried to take a sip of your coffee, but the mug was empty. The only one who could have drunk it was Doey. You didn’t say anything until Breakfast was over.

Y/N: “Kids, why don’t you go play? I need to talk to Doey for a minute.”

The toys left the kitchen, leaving you and Doey alone.

Y/N: “Didn’t I tell you not to drink the coffee?”

Doey: “…Yes.”

Y/N: “So, why did you drink it?”

Doey: “I know, I know! I’m sorry! But it was so sweet and tasty! And smelled like peppermint!”

Doey continued rambling so quickly. You knew he was beginning to have a sugar rush. You needed to get the sugar out his system or he might destroy your house.

Y/N: “Okay, Okay! Doey, it’s fine. Why don’t we go outside and play a game?”

Doey: “Like what!?”

Y/N: “Hide and seek tag. You try to hide and I’ll seek.”

Doey: “Okay! Okay, Okay! Let’s play!”

He took your arm and ran outside.

Y/N: “Okay now you go hide and I’ll seek!”

You counted to ten and went to look for Doey. As you were looking for Doey, you heard giggling behind some bushes and saw Doey hiding.

Y/N: “Tag, you’re it!”

You ran as fast as you could away from Doey, but he was too fast due to the sugar in his body. You looked back to see him catching up to you really quickly. You tried to run away from him, but he was too fast and grabbed you by your sides, tickling you. You broke out into laughter.

Y/N: “Doey! Stop! That tickles! I’m caught! I’m caught! You won! Let me go! Please!”

Doey: “ Ha! You’re it! You are it! You can’t trick me! You can’t outrun me! I’m too good! I’m too quick!”

You couldn’t stop laughing as Doey continued tickling you and bragging about him catching you. He stopped tickling you and picked you up in the air.

Doey: “ Let’s play some more mama/papa!”

You gave him a thumb up as you were a little tired.

For the next 4 hours, you played capture the flag, statues, scavenger hunt, and Hopscotch. Some of the mini critters and Yarnaby came out to play were you two, but they couldn’t keep up with Doey’s sugary energy.

Y/N: “Okay, Doey. Let’s go inside.”

Doey: “But I’m still wanna play!”

Y/N: “Well, let’s play inside.”

You, Doey, and the others toys came inside the house and the toys, except for Doey, fell asleep on the couch. Those games wore them out. Yarnaby took up most of couch and the mini critters lay on top of him.

Doey: “What do you want to play now, mama/papa?”

Y/N: “I got the perfect game!”

Doey: “OH! What is it?”

Y/N: “Sit next to Yarnaby, close your eyes, and count to 35.”

Doey: “Okay, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, ….17…”

Y/N: “ This game is called nap-time.”

Doey fell asleep. Now his sugar rush crashed and he was sound asleep.

You took your camera out and took a picture of the sleeping toys.

Y/N: “These is going in the photo album.”

😴😴😴😴😴😴😴😴😴😴😴😴😴😴😴😴I hope you all enjoyed this story. If there is an artist reading this story, can you drawing the mini critters, Yarnaby, and Doey sleeping together?

See you next time! <3!

#sugar rush #poppy playtime #poppy playtime doey #ppt 4 #poppy playtime chapter 4 #poppy playtime kissy missy #poppy playtime x reader #poppy playtime safe haven #doey the doughman #kissy missy #poppy playtime 4 x reader #doey x reader #poppy playtime yarnaby #ler Doey #Lee reader

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deliciousangelfestival · 4 months ago

Text

Let's Play Pretend - 5 | bodyguard!Bucky

Character: Bucky Barnes x singer! Female reader

Summary: You just wanted to hide here and find peace from the mess that wasn’t caused by you. But then, your hot neighbor bothered you. As if that wasn’t enough, the enemies you hated found you too.

PART 1 , PART 2 , PART 3 , PART 4 , PART 5 , PART 6 , PART 7 , -PART 8 , PART 9 , END.

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

By the way, I publish my book Arrogant Ex-Husband and Dad, I Can't Let You Go by Alina C. Bing on Kindle.

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

Your hands trembled as you clutched the phone, heart pounding in your chest. The wreckage of your room was still fresh in your mind—the torn pillows, the eerie splatters of red ink, and the knife impaled into your photo. The image burned behind your eyelids, making it impossible to think straight.

Meanwhile, Bucky stood there, completely unfazed. He tilted his head, glancing at the destruction like it was a minor inconvenience.

“Well,” he said, shoving his hands into his pockets. “You could sleep in my room since yours is trashed like this.”

You shot him an incredulous glare. “Are you serious right now?” Why would he make the offer when you were the one who owned this apartment?

He raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. “What? I’m just offering a solution.”

You groaned, rubbing your temples in frustration. There was no way you’d be able to sleep after what just happened. Your room had been violated—someone had broken in, leaving behind a disturbing message, and Bucky was acting like it was no big deal.

Pissed, you pulled out your phone and called Mrs. Walls.

The moment she answered, her warm voice came through the speaker. “My dear, how are you? Have you gotten back from the funeral?”

“Yeah…” Your voice came out weaker than you intended.

Mrs. Walls instantly picked up on it. “Dear, what’s wrong?”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “An intruder broke into my place and completely wrecked my bedroom.”

There was silence for a second before she gasped. “Oh no! Are you okay? Is Bucky there with you?”

“I’m fine,” you muttered, throwing a glare at the man in question. “I was already scared, but with Bucky here, I’m getting more stressed.”

“What? Give the phone to him. I’ll have a talk with that boy.”

A slow, devious grin stretched across your face as you turned to Bucky. He must have noticed because his expression immediately fell.

“What?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.

You held out the phone. “Mrs. Walls wants to talk to you.”

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, snatching the phone from your hand before walking out of the bedroom.

You watched him leave, shaking your head. Finally, some justice.

But as you turned away, you accidentally overheard his conversation.

"I wasn’t being mean to her. I’m just… that’s just the way I am," he muttered.

A pause. Then he added, "I didn’t stab anyone. Yet. So that means I’m in a good mood."

Your stomach dropped.

Well, that was fucked up.

That was a clear sign for you to stop eavesdropping. Swallowing hard, you quickly stepped back and shut the door.

But Bucky must have noticed because he suddenly peeked through the gap, his sharp blue eyes scanning to see if you were still listening. Satisfied, he leaned against the hallway wall, sighing.

Mrs. Walls spoke again, her voice softer now. “I know this is new to you—having someone close to you. After everything you’ve been through.”

Bucky scoffed. “Nah… don’t start with the trauma and nightmare talk. I’m over it.”

“Then be nice to Y/N. She has a lot on her plate right now.”

“Still not enough to justify anything,” he countered. “Everyone’s got their own shit to deal with.”

Mrs. Walls sighed. “Bucky. Her boss paid and hired you.”

Bucky clicked his tongue. ‘Oh, right. Thanks for reminding me that I’m a corporate slave now.’ He wanted to say it, but out of respect for Mrs. Walls, he kept it to himself.

All his life, he never once imagined himself working for a company. He was a freelance kind of guy—the type to take one job that could last for years. That was the kind of work he was used to. Stability, contracts, daily meetings? That wasn’t him.

But the last job he took? It ruined him.

Literally.

What was supposed to be a routine mission turned into a nightmare. He was captured, and held as a prisoner in some godforsaken place where daylight never reached. Tortured, starved, kept in chains for what felt like an eternity. They broke his body first, then his mind.

Until he got rescued.

He was pulled out of that hell, but the damage had already been done. Therapy was supposed to fix him. Medication, counseling, endless reassurance that he was safe now. But safety was a foreign concept. His mind refused to rest. The walls of his room felt like a cage, his own thoughts like a second prison.

He started losing himself.

It began slowly—paranoia, restless nights, shadows moving where they shouldn’t. Then it worsened. The nightmares bled into reality. His grip on time and space wavered. He was classified as a threat, his name written down in reports, whispered about in hushed voices.

Then, one night, something snapped.

He got up. He walked out of the psychiatric ward, out of the facility meant to "help" him, and just kept walking. No destination. No plan. His feet carried him forward, his mind drifting somewhere between past and present.

He didn’t know how long he walked. But when he finally stopped, he was standing in his hometown.

That night, he stood in front of his old school building, staring up at the dark windows, trying to remember what it felt like to be young—before all of this. Before everything.

And that was when he saw her.

Mrs. Walls.

The only teacher who ever cared.

She had noticed him back then—noticed what others didn’t. How he struggled, how he lacked what other kids had. She was the only one who helped him, who saw through him.

That night, without hesitation, she took him in.

He decided to stay, bought a house near hers, and let himself rest for the first time in years. Mrs. Walls became the mother—no, the grandmother—he never had. Thanks to parents he never even met, he never knew what it was like to have family. But she gave him something close enough.

Then one day, you appeared.

He first saw you through his window—standing in the rain in front of Mrs. Walls' house. Pacing. Walking back and forth, hesitating, like a lost puppy unsure if it should knock or run away.

You were drenched, completely unaware of the storm raging around you.

He narrowed his eyes, studying you.

Mrs. Walls wouldn’t have noticed you. Not with the heavy rain drowning out everything. So, he picked up his phone and called her.

She answered on the first ring. “Yes, Bucky? Is there anything you need? Are you hungry?”

He huffed a quiet laugh. “I’m still full from the lasagna you gave me. Someone is standing in front of your door. Looks like she really wants to see you.”

Mrs. Walls went silent for a beat, then hurriedly ended the call.

He watched from his window as she opened the door. You hesitated for a split second before spinning around—and then, without warning, you hugged her.

He tensed.

That was… unexpected.

Mrs. Walls pulled you inside, closing the door behind her.

Later that night, she mentioned you. “I have a guest,” she said. “An old student of mine.”

He barely reacted until she added, “She’s almost like you.”

That made him pause.

Really?

The curiosity nagged at him. He wanted to meet you, but you were like a vampire—only appearing at night, avoiding people, keeping to yourself. It wasn’t until much later that you finally crossed paths.

And when you did, he couldn’t help himself.

Teasing you became a game.

There was something about the way you reacted, the little glares, the irritated sighs, the way you tried so hard to ignore him. It made him smirk. It made him push just a little more.

“Stop teasing her, Bucky,” Mrs. Walls scolded, shaking her head.

He lifted his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. I’ll be civilized.”

“Thank you,” she said, exasperated. “And stop fighting, you two.” Then she ended the call.

After ending the call with Mrs. Walls, Bucky turned toward you. He held out your phone, and you took it from him, fingers brushing against his for a fleeting second. His touch was ice-cold. Or maybe your hands were just clammy from the stress.

“We should call the police,” he said, his voice low but firm.

“No.”

His brows lifted slightly. “No?”

You swallowed hard, gripping your phone tighter. “If there’s another headline about me, my career will be over.” The words came out rushed, strained—like you were barely holding it together. Your pulse pounded in your ears. You could already see it: your name splashed across tabloids, whispers behind your back, reporters picking apart every detail of your life.

Bucky scoffed, crossing his arms. “So that’s the price of fame, huh? Silence over safety?”

You shot him a glare. “I don’t expect you to understand.”

“You should tell your boss,” he said after a pause.

“Mr. Vert?”

“Yup.”

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

You sat across from Mr. Vert in his sleek, modern office, the city skyline stretching out behind him through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Bucky lounged in the chair beside you, one ankle resting on his knee, looking thoroughly unimpressed.

After taking a deep breath, you told Mr. Vert everything—the break-in, the destruction in your bedroom, the eerie message left behind. As you spoke, the CEO listened, his expression unreadable.

When you finished, Mr. Vert leaned back in his chair, exhaling through his nose. "It's a good thing you came to me first."

A small wave of relief washed over you.

Then his gaze slid to Bucky, lips curling into something sharp. "Seems like he's doing a fantastic job." His voice dripped with sarcasm. "What a top-tier bodyguard. Truly, I'm impressed."

Bucky smirked, unfazed. "I aim to please." He stretched, placing his hands behind his head. "Though, correct me if I'm wrong, isn’t it your job to ensure your people are safe? Maybe put some security measures in place instead of relying on a guy you barely tolerate?"

Mr. Vert’s eyes narrowed. "You're being paid, aren't you?"

Bucky shrugged. "Yeah, but if you want premium service, I charge extra."

"Your basic service already seems half-assed," Mr. Vert shot back.

"You get what you pay for."

"You're expensive."

"And yet here I am."

You let out a heavy sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose as their bickering escalated. Their energy—practically identical—made your head throb. Watching them argue felt like watching two alpha wolves circling each other, all sharp words and subtle challenges.

"Enough," you finally said, rubbing your temples. Listening to them argue was like hearing two versions of Bucky in the same room—sharp-tongued, relentless, and entirely too sure of themselves.

Mr. Vert barely reacted. He leaned forward, lacing his fingers together as he rested his elbows on the desk. "Starting tomorrow, you're back to work."

You blinked. "Tomorrow?"

"You still have a contract," he reminded you, his tone calm but firm.

You had agreed to keep working, but you hadn't realized it would be this soon. The news settled heavily in your chest, pressing down like a weight you hadn't been prepared to carry just yet.

Bucky let out a sharp laugh, shaking his head. "Wow. No hesitation. You really don’t care about her mental health, do you?"

You stiffened. Mental health? No one had ever brought that up before—not your old manager, not your colleagues, and certainly not Mr. Vert. It was always about keeping up appearances, meeting expectations, pushing forward no matter what. But Bucky... Bucky was pissed on your behalf.

Mr. Vert smirked, unbothered. "I care about keeping her career intact."

"Yeah? And keeping her alive? That part just an afterthought?" Bucky shot back, his voice laced with mockery, but beneath it, something sharper—real concern.

And that's why I paid you. Agreed to that insane price. To be her bodyguard and her fake boyfriend," Mr. Vert said smoothly.

Bucky opened his mouth, ready to fire back, but before he could, the office door swung open.

A woman stepped inside, her heels clicking against the polished floor. Selena.

You recognized her instantly, though she looked different from the last time you saw her—especially at the funeral. Gone was the quiet, grieving assistant in a modest black dress. Now, she looked every bit the career woman, dressed sharply in a fitted blazer and pencil skirt, her hair sleek, her makeup subtle but precise. Confidence radiated from her as she approached.

She offered a polite smile as she stepped closer. “I’m sorry to interrupt,” she said, her voice smooth and professional. She turned to Mr. Vert. “You wanted to see me?”

Mr. Vert nodded, then shifted his attention to you. “She’ll be your new manager. She worked closely with your former manager, so I believe she’ll be the perfect replacement.”

You hesitated, unsure how to respond. It wasn’t that you doubted her capabilities—Selena had been around long enough to know your schedule inside and out—but the change felt abrupt, almost too sudden to process.

Noticing your hesitation, she extended a hand, her expression reassuring. “Don’t worry. With me, I’ll make sure you won’t be overwhelmed by the schedule.”

You shook her hand, the grip firm and confident. “Thank you,” you said, though the words felt automatic.

From the side, Bucky let out a low scoff. Arms crossed, he leaned against the wall, watching the exchange with barely concealed amusement. “I smell fake,” he muttered under his breath. “And it stinks.”

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Link for Dad I Can't Let You Go

Amazon.com: Dad, I Can't Let You Go eBook : Bing, Alina C.: Kindle Store

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