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penkura · 3 months

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Father's Day Moments

Note: Sorry this so late today, I've been busy with my own stuff this weekend, but I got it done! :) This is simply Father's Day moments with a small surprise in each of them, I had a blast writing these. 💚 I know again that this day can be hard for some, so if this isn't something you're okay with reading, please feel free to skip it and read something makes you happy today. 💚💚

Ace has rarely ever thought about Father’s Day, considering his own issues with his father and all that growing up. Even after joining the Whitebeard Pirates he never thought too much of the day, only when Marco or someone else brought it that it was about that time of year. Once he has own his children, the sweet little girls you both share, he still doesn’t think about the day as being that important, it feels more for the kids then it does for the dad in his mind. You do most of the caring for your daughters anyway, even though Ace helps as much as he can when he’s not busy, you two are a team, you should use the day to rest together, right?

That’s why, after you get Rogue and Ann to give Ace the little handmade cards you helped them with (he’s not crying, you’re seeing things), Ace tries to pass the girls off to Marco and Izo for the day, having asked the two the day before if they could take the girls off the ship for the afternoon so you two could relax together. They both had agreed, you find it very odd they’re so willing to take the two when they’ve jokingly called your daughters little hell fires, Rogue and Ann are happy to go with them onto the island you’re docked at for a couple hours.

You’re still skeptical even when all Ace does is pull you into bed for a nap (just a nap, he swears when you ask if he’s got other motives). “Ace, what’s this all about? You know it’s—”

“Father’s Day, yeah, I know,” Ace buries his face in your hair and you can’t help but nearly melt in his arms, he’s so warm all the time, it feels so nice just to lay with him, “But you deserve some time off too~”

The way he nuzzles into your neck makes you giggle, wanting to say something about how you already had your day until he speaks up again.

“I wanna have another baby with you~”

That’s not a surprise to you, he’s said it several times since Ann turned four and you first brought it up, just wondering what his opinion would be and Ace promising he’d get back to you when he had decided. He finally did just about a week or two ago, right after her birthday, telling you that one more would be perfect, your family would be complete whether boy or girl.

“Yeah, that sounds good, Ace.”

It’s a few moments of silence before you hear him snoring, but it still makes you laugh softly before running your fingers through his hair while he sleeps.

“Happy Father’s Day, you dork.”

Father’s Day had left a bad taste in Law’s mouth for a long time, having lost his own father and then Corazon, it first made him resent the day before it became just another day that meant time was passing by. No one to celebrate meant he could ignore it, until you came along and blessed him with your son and daughter, the two angels he watches play doctor almost every day with their stuffed animals. Eight-year-old Rosi and two-year-old Cora, both his spitting image and the brightest part of his days, apart from you obviously.

The day is quiet while your children play, Law trying to take a nap for once when he feels someone come over and put something on his chest, cracking one eye open to see Cora has her toy stethoscope while Rosi holds her up so she can reach, and it makes him smile. They’re both just darling, even if Rosi is reaching the point where he’ll say how embarrassing such statements are.

“What’s up? I need a checkup from Dr. Cora?”

She giggles and nods, while Rosi huffs a little. Cora has gotten so big, its hard for him to hold her for very long. He asks if she’s almost done, when she nods again and takes her toy off Law’s chest.

“All done!” Law ruffles her hair a bit and thanks her, as Rosi tells her they should go check her stuffed bunny now. The two hurry back to their toys, as Law tries again to nap before he feels like someone else is watching him, opening his eyes to see you leaned over giving him a smile.

“Have you gotten to rest at all?”

“No, but it’s fine,” shaking his head a bit, Law notices you seem to want to say something, and gives you a look, “You okay?”

“Mm,” nodding you look over to your children, watching them briefly as they wrap bandages around the bunny’s ears, “Just…what would you say to one more?”

Law raises an eyebrow and sees how fidgety you are by asking, wondering if you’ve already gotten an answer and you’re just double checking with him that it would be okay, or if you just suddenly have baby fever again. Either way, he doesn’t think it would be a bad thing. It would be welcomed.

“I think that would be fine…”

The way you light up and grin makes Law start to smile too, even when you begin to ramble a bit about how you haven’t felt well, which he knew already, and how you had gone and taken a pregnancy test, and well, looks like your ‘one more’ is coming sooner than expected based on the pink plus sign when you show him the test. Rosi and Cora were both planned, and while this one wasn’t, there’s an excitement in his heart that Law can’t deny at the thought of having another child with you.

Its not such a bad Father’s Day gift honestly.

To be honest, Penguin never thought he’d be this lucky. He never thought he’d be lucky enough to find you, to get married and have two daughters with you, and now have the joy of bringing home your newborn son on Father’s Day, two days old and baby Sage has joined his sisters in your home, the eight-year-old and four-year-old girls both squealing over how tiny he is.

Penguin beams with pride while he watches them, Wren has gotten over her jealousy of having little siblings ever since Ivy started to get older and could play with her. When you told them the baby was a boy, they were both ecstatic to get a baby brother, and loved coming to the hospital to see and meet him.

As the two try to push each other out of the way to see him while Penguin holds Sage, you put your hands on their heads and quiet them down.

“Hey now, that’s enough. We don’t want to scare him. Don’t you two something for daddy anyway?”

Wren gasps loudly before nodding and grabbing Ivy’s hand, yelling for Penguin to wait there while they ran off to their room. He gives you a confused look while you sit beside him and start to coo at Sage.

“Babe, what’d you do?”

“I didn’t do anything. It was all them.”

When they finally come back, both are holding drawings they’d made the other day with you watching them (mostly since they were using markers). Wren had drawn your whole family as penguins while Ivy had mostly done stick figure drawings of your now family of five, both making sure to include the newest addition. They both tell Penguin ‘happy Father’s Day’ as they hand the pictures over, and he has to fight to not to cry while he hugs them close, kissing them both on the cheek multiple times and making them giggle.

“You’re both the best daughters I could’ve ever asked for!”

Sanji doesn’t take a day off, what are you talking about? The man is a chef, a professional one at that, and with your twins tenth birthday just two days away, he’s busy making their birthday cakes and all the snacks and treats their friends are going to want at the party too. Even though he knows it’s Father’s Day, you know it too, your twins and second daughter have already given him the cards they’d made, he did cry and didn’t try to hide it, and he went right back to work. It might be a day for him to relax, but he doesn’t for more than those few minutes earlier in the day. He’d taken your three-month-old son Elie after you’d finished nursing him, strapping him against his chest in a baby carrier and getting to work while your baby slept against him so you could rest instead.

Honestly, it kind of made you feel bad because you’d already gotten your day, and Sanji was using his to prepare for your twins birthday party and watch your youngest son, your older three children were busying themselves with cleaning their rooms. You’ve already finished the laundry for the day and go to the kitchen to see Sanji isn’t up and cooking at the moment, instead sitting at the table and playing with your small son’s hands while talking to him while Elie looks up at him.

“I feel really blessed to have all of you, Elie. I really hope that you and your siblings know that as you grow up…” Sanji sighs a bit and places a soft kiss on Elie’s head, “I never want you to feel like I did.”

“They won’t,” you surprise Sanji by wrapping your arms around his shoulders and kissing his cheek, “You’re a wonderful father and doing so well with them, Sanji. Just from watching you with all four of our babies, they all absolutely love you.”

“My love—”

“And don’t argue with me, you know its true.”

Sanji laughs and nods, knowing he’d lose that argument in a heartbeat. You’re always so headstrong and just want him to realize that yes, he’s doing a million times better than his own father did, he’s on par with Zeff nowadays, who your kids also have come to adore as their grandfather.

You look around the kitchen a bit, asking if Sanji wants any help, before he starts listing off everything he still has to do and you just watch him. He starts to take Elie out of the baby carrier and hand him over to you as he sees the look on your face.

“Yeah, I’ll uh…sit with Elie while you cook.”

He laughs again, before kissing your forehead and giving you a smile. “That would be wonderful, my love.”

You never truly know how to celebrate Father’s Day when the father of your children is Zoro. It feels like he doesn’t care about it, even when you roll your eyes at him and tell him just to tell you what he wants, before he shrugs and says he doesn’t need anything. He’s got you, Keitaro, and Kuina, and the rest of the Straw Hats, what else could he possibly want or need? There’s nothing material he needs really, unless you want to get him the expensive sake he likes but you think a liquor store owner might find it highly concerning that a seven-month pregnant woman is buying alcohol, which just made Zoro laugh at you when you brought that up.

Ah right, that’s right, it’s not just you, your two children, and the rest of the Straw Hats anymore, or won’t be in a few short weeks. The baby you actually planned this time would be joining you all soon, that’s more than enough. He definitely doesn’t need anything when he thinks about that, just that you and this baby are safe through the rest of your pregnancy and the birth. That’s all he really wants.

Maybe some of that sake still but he’ll get that another way.

His morning meditation that day is interrupted when he senses Keitaro nearby, the seven-year-old trying to sneak up and catch Zoro off guard, though it never works thanks to his observation haki. Even when your son throws his arms around him and yells “gotcha!”, Zoro just smirks a bit, keeping his eyes closed.

“I knew you were there.”

“Daaaad, you’re cheating!” Keitaro whines and pouts, trying to climb onto Zoro’s back before giving up and going around to sit in his lap. “Mama said haki is cheating!”

“That’s only cause your mom can’t sneak up on me either.” He opens his one good eye and stares down at his little clone, the boy still pouting with his arms crossed over his chest. “Where’re your mom and sister?”

“Umm, Kuina’s still asleep, and mama was awake, but said she was going to lay down cause the baby was making her sleepy again.”

“And what are you doing up so early?”

Keitaro starts to look away a bit, shyly trying not to give anything up, before leaning his head against Zoro’s chest and saying “I wanted to hang out just with you…”

When he was younger, Zoro never thought that having kids was for him. He thought they’d get in the way, that there wasn’t any reason to really have them around apart from legacy, but then you showed up and turned everything upside down. Keitaro wasn’t planned, but he’d brought so much more to both your lives than either of you expected. Your sweet Kuina was a surprise too, you swear she’s made Zoro softer in more recent years, something he tries to deny but everyone else can see it when she’s got his attention.

And your coming addition, the one that was planned, even if they hadn’t been you still would welcome this baby happily. Sometimes, Zoro still isn’t sure that fatherhood suits him, but you swear to him that he’s the best father you’ve ever seen, even better than your own, and maybe you’re right, just from how Keitaro quietly wants to spend time with his dad, just the two of them before the day really gets started. Its more apparent when Kuina convinces him to read to her, and when your unborn child kicks at his hand while he talks to them.

“All right, buddy,” Zoro sets one hand on Keitaro’s back and strokes his hair with the other, watching as he starts to fall back asleep too, not used to being up this early, “You stay with me for now then.”

Maybe he’s not so bad at this fatherhood thing after all.

#one piece x reader #reader insert #zoro x reader #sanji x reader #fem!reader #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #black leg sanji x reader #ace x reader #portgas d ace x reader #penguin x reader #op penguin x reader #op men as dads #father's day #roronoa zoro x reader

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mikkomacko · 1 year

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Jersey Leeds

Nico Hischier x Reader

Summary: Nico's balancing the playoffs and his pregnant wife who's due any day now.

A/n: This one got away from me and is now way longer than I intended. But it's so cute so I hope you all love it.

Typically, you're a very calm and easy going person. You don't go out of your way to make life difficult or feel the need to voice your every thought and opinion. Not that there's anything wrong with it, it's just not who you are.

Which is why you went along with the rule Nico had established after the regular season closed out. Your due date was growing closer and closer, a month turned to 3 weeks, and then 2 weeks, and then Nico was pulling his hair out trying to keep calm. He was about to captain his way through the post season for the first time all while trying to be a father for the first time?

At the recommendation of your doctor (and some online advice), Nico had kindly begged you to stay home for the playoff games in New Jersey. He didn't want you in such a wild and stressful environment, didn't want to risk you being around a crowd of fans that have been deprived of playoff hockey for years. It's their first season back in the post season after the rebuild, he'd told you, and he didn't know what to expect. The last thing he wanted to worry about was you and the baby somewhere in the stands while he was on the ice. Especially for a rivalry round against the Rangers. Things get out of control, he also said, what if something happened to you?

So you agreed. You spent the entirety of the first round in your apartment, eyes glued to the TV and hands on the overinflated balloon that was your belly as you watched Nico fight to keep his team in. He played well, enough to keep you from going stir crazy in the living room, but you knew he was thinking about you and the baby at home. Those 2 weeks turned to one, and it was evident in his struggle to find the back of the net that Nico was holding that due date on his shoulders, right on top of the weight of a tight series. If you being at home was going to ease that weight somehow, you'd do it.

But when game 7 found its way back to New Jersey, you couldn't do it.

"Nico you can't confine me to our home!" You argue, folding the white onesie in your hands "I'm pregnant, not imprisoned. If I want to be there I get to be there." You stack it in the laundry basket, picking up the next freshly washed and dried one.

He's set aside his iPad where he had been watching film from last night's game, the screen now dark as he turns his attention to you.

"Love," he sighs, running a hand through his overgrown hair "you know how much I want you to be there. I always want you there, but this is a whole different game now. You don't know what the fans are like and I can't just let you walk into somewhere you might not be safe."

Safe. Lately everything has come down to you being safe. It wasn't any concern before now. You'd gone to every Rangers game, every Flyers game, and every high tense game before that. The organization and the fans know you, they respect you because at the end of the night you're the one taking their captain home just to send him back the next morning. You'd never felt unsafe or unwelcomed at the Rock before.

"I'm just as safe there as here," you respond, still plucking your way through the pile of baby clothes "I've been there before, I'm known there. That's my home just as much as it's yours."

Nico sits up from the headboard, pushing his iPad even further away as he too grabs a couple of bibs and socks from the pile of clothes. He's silent for a moment and you look over at him to see that he's simply holding a pair of baby socks in his large hands, lips pursed in thought. You know he's picturing the tiny feet that'll wear those socks, thinking about how they kick at his hands when he holds you and talks too loud, when he presses his own stomach into yours so he can kiss you and the butterflies that rush through your body tickle at the baby too. You know he's worried, it's his thing. He's always footed too much responsibility, even when he doesn't have to.

"I know it is," he looks up at you, brown eyes gentle and warm but tinged with fear "and it'll be her home too. But it's not yet, and it definitely won't feel like home when hundreds of blue shirts pack in there tomorrow night. You know how these games are normally baby, and while our fans take care of you, I can't promise anything else for the others."

He folds the socks together, tossing them towards the basket with a half-hearted flick of his hand. You pick the pair up and set them in with the rest, handing him the little tee-shirt in your hands. Jack had gifted it to you a week after you told the team about the pregnancy.

"Don't you think the captain should have his family there?" You prod, softly as you watch his lips twitch into a smile at the shirt. It's got the smallest little Devils logo on the front, a C stamped on the shoulder and when he flips it over to look at the 13 and name on the back you notice the way his bottom lip rattles with emotion.

"We'll get there early and stay in the box the whole time. The other girls will be there, I'll stay towards the back and I won't leave until you or someone from the team comes to get me afterwards." You promise, and while that may sound a little dramatic, you don't mind. In fact nothing sounds better than sitting in those plush chairs watching him play while the caterers bring you food and drinks. The only time you'll have to put your swollen feet to work is to go to the bathroom.

Nico runs his thumb over the white letters spelling out Baby Hischier, and you know he's given in by the slow flutter of his eyelashes as he blinks, the smallest bit of hesitance as he thinks this might be the wrong decision but what the hell?

He folds the shirt, pushing himself up from the mess of sheets and you bite back a grin as he rounds the bed to you. A smile has fought it's way onto his face, crinkling at his eyes and sinking dimples into his cheeks. God you hope the baby has that smile of his.

You reach out for him, hands finding his chest before running up to wrap around his neck. He grips the sides of your belly, drawing you closer to him until your belly button is brushing against his abdomen.

"You don't go anywhere without security," he murmurs, right hand coming up to push a strand of hair away from your face. "no dropping into the store during intermission because you wanted something last minute for the baby. And absolutely no trash talking. These fans are fist happy and I don't need you pissing them off even if you're just defending me."

You can't help but laugh. It wouldn't be the first time you'd passionately defended him in the crowd or taunted a fan after he's scored. He knows you so well. You'd never do that now, you know to keep a low profile but it's sweet that he thinks he needs to remind you.

"I promise baby," you swear, sealing it with a kiss and he cups your face to bring you in even closer. "I just want to be there for you. We want to be there for you."

His inhale is uneven, a small tremor of fear or maybe anxiety or even excitement. Maybe all three but it does nothing to wipe away the smile on his face and so you kiss him again, laughing when you feel little hands and feet nudging against his palm on your stomach. Nico keeps kissing you, trailing his lips over your cheeks and nose as you giggle again, and he presses his hand even further into your stomach.

"Yes," he huffs playfully, looking down at your belly "you girls won, I know. I'll get used to it."

You stayed as low-key as possible. Simple all black clothes, casual and comfy shoes, minimal makeup and tucked your hair up into a Devils hat and hair clip. Nico appreciated it, slipping his bracelets onto your wrists before he left and giving you a kiss after he reminded you of the rules and precautions and emergency numbers for people at the arena.

The other girls had been notified of your playoff debut and swore up and down that they'd have your back, just as you'd always had theirs. You rode in the party bus with them, hands over your belly as you laughed and caught up with everyone. You missed them lately, and a part of you was heartbroken that you didn't get the first full playoff experience with them. Even the jackets, which you'd ordered and distributed to everyone, were a jab in your emotional heart because you didn't think to get yourself one. At the time you knew you'd be staying home for the games and it didn't seem worth it. Seeing it hang in your room knowing you'd never wear it would be just awful so you didn't bother.

A part of you now wishes you had, and you could almost cry about it if you weren't so excited for the game. But when the bus rolled up to the arena and the lights came up, your happiness at being back was nothing compared to the wave of emotion that took over when the girls pulled out a giant gift bag.

It was red and sparkly, your name written on the tag in a very familiar font. You pushed aside the black tissue paper, eyes welling with tears as you pulled out the black leather jacket. The name Nico had given you last summer and his number, surrounded by bright flames. You unfolded the jacket, swiping at the tears on your cheeks while the girls laughed and cheered. A white card had fallen into your lap, the message simple and sweet.

Knew you'd need it eventually

You didn't need a signature to know who gifted you this. The writing itself was clear but the special signature on the sleeve topped with a heart instead of a 13, said it all. Nico only signed with a heart when it was addressed to you. From that first receipt at the bar you met at after he bought your drinks, to the flowers he'd had delivered to you a few weeks ago just because, that same signature always topped it off.

That's what comes to mind when he takes the ice, finding his spot on the blue line for the national anthem and you holler with the rest of the fans, tucked into the jacket he got specifically for you. The Rock is electric, every fan on their feet and every towel in the air. You keep up for as long as you possibly can but your feet quickly grow sore and tired, so you settle into a seat with a plate of food. At least until you get too into the game and jump back up to cheer with the rest of the girls.

Intermission is spent taking pictures for Instagram, showing off the jackets once again and thanking the artist. You answer texts from family and friends wishing you and Nico good luck tonight, letting you know they're tuning in to watch. An ice cream helmet and a churro are delivered to you courtesy of the security guard Nico has requested follow you at all times, and you enjoy the snack for the entirety of the second period.

With the Devils up 2-0 you feel pretty good. Nico was right, you didn't know what a playoff crowd was like and while it's overwhelming, it's also heartwarming. You can't help but think of how happy Nico must be, how much he deserves this. He's done his best all season to carry the weight of being captain of a team that's constantly left behind and forgotten. The Devils are always the underdogs, and at the front of the pack is your boyfriend, trying his best to build them up into contenders. His first point of the night is a step in the right direction, and you hope he's pulling himself out of the rut he's been in. Maybe you're just superstitious but you convince yourself it's because you're at the game.

As the minutes tick by, you grow even more happy about attending tonight's game. If you're lucky it'll even relax Nico into letting you attend round 2, and hopefully more rounds after that. But you're getting ahead of yourself.

In fact, you don't really have time to think about the next round at all because the baby's begun kicking around in your belly. At first you're amused, making a mental note to tell Nico that he's going to have a hard time keeping his daughter from the rink. But as the girls take turns feeling her kick, the sudden sharp pain in your spine and release of pressure between your legs makes you freeze.

The game grows forgotten, the food and laughs and pictures given up on. There's nothing else to think about except the fact that you are going into labor and your husband is unattainable on the ice below you.

Nico has just stepped down the tunnel when he's stopped by personnel, not even around the corner and to the locker room yet. Someone's holding a phone out to him, urging him to take it and he feels his heart drop to his stomach. Why are they looking at him like that? With those hesitant smiles and nervous eyes. He knows it's about you, it has to be and the fact that you're not down here yet let's him know something's wrong.

He rips off his helmet, holding the phone up to his ear. "Hello?"

"Hi my love!" You greet, a little breathless but cheerful. Nico doesn't care whose phone he's got, he takes it with him towards the locker room. Why are you calling him?

"Hey darling, what are you doing?" He ignores the other boys, sitting down in his locker and untying his skates. You're not giving him any reason to be nervous but he has a feeling he should be. "Are you down here yet?"

He can hear someone else talking with you, their voice muddled through the phone but he imagines it's one of the girls. "No I'm not going down to the locker room." You carefully say "I actually already left the arena."

It's then that he recognizes the sound of a car radio and the rumble of the highway. He can feel the others looking at him, wondering why he's on the phone and already stripping out of his gear instead of celebrating with them.

"What do you mean you left?" He asks, toweling through his sweaty hair. "I told you to come down here."

Someone honks on the other line. "I know I know, but I need you to stay calm when I say this Nico."

He freezes, heart pounding in his chest but trying his best to not let it rattle in his voice. "What happened? Are you ok?"

By now Jack has picked up on the call, slowly inching towards Nico's stall with questioning eyes. "I'm fine. The baby is fine. We had a great time. So much fun that she kinda decided she wanted to watch it in person."

Nico's head spins. "What? What do you mean?"

"My water broke," you say and Nico's tossing the phone to Jack, ripping off his jersey and pads.

"Ask her how long ago." He instructs, and he hears Jack greet you before asking the question. You must talk to him for a bit because he's mouthing things and holding up fingers as you go. Nico continues to tear through his gear, half-heartedly wiping sweat off as he goes so he can get dressed.

"Five minutes left in the third," Jack recites back to him. "She took the bus here with the girls so Clare is driving her and they're about 2 minutes from the hospital."

Nico tugs on a pair of shorts and shoves his feet into the sneakers he left in his locker this morning. "She's asking that you please shower before coming here because she knows you smell awful."

He wants to laugh, knows she's teasing him to try and calm him down. It doesn't work. All he can think about is how you're in labor, that your water broke and he wasn't there to help you to the car or drive you to the hospital. He throws on a shirt, taking the phone back from Jack.

"Already dressed, I'm not showering." He's shoving things into his duffle, unsure of what he even needs or should take with him. He at least has the right sense to grab deodorant and cologne from his stall.

"Nico it's not that bad yet." You say on the other end of the phone. "Really you have the time to shower and do media-"

"Media?" He interrupts, "You're not fucking serious? I'm going to the hospital so I can be with you, not talking to the press."

He digs his keys and phone out of the side pocket of his bag, tossing it over his shoulder. He's still got the phone to his ear when he turns back to Jack. "You're on media tonight. Don't say a word about this and call me afterwards."

Jack salutes him, eyes shiny and smile wide. It's then that Nico realizes the whole room is watching him excitedly. Biting back a laugh he address you again.

"I'll be there in 5 minutes. Text me if you get into a room ok?"

"Ok Nico."

"I'll see you soon love," he says quietly, wanting to keep the sweet moment between you two. You return the sentiment, wincing slightly afterwards and he knows you're starting to feel those contractions.

"Hey," he calls before you can hang up. "Don't have that baby until I'm there."

"You got it Cap."

He hangs up, not knowing what to do with the random phone he's been given until the employee that handed it to him is shoving into the room. He quickly gives it back, double checking his pockets for everything just as reporters begin to pour into the room.

"Well boys," he finally addresses the team, looking around at their expectant faces. "We fought hard, we came out on top. And we can do it again later but for now..." Jack has found his way to Nico's side, gripping his shoulder and shaking him excitedly. "I gotta go have a baby."

Hoots and hollers bust out, Jack kisses his cheek and shoves him towards the door. He receives more taps and shoves as he goes, everyone wishing him luck as he prepares for the biggest moment of his life.

Nico's fully aware that he looks like a mess. Disheveled, sweaty, gnawing at his bottom lip as he rushes into the labor and delivery lobby. A man in scrubs spots him before he can reach the counter, obviously recognizing him.

"Hischier?" He asks anyway and Nico nods, unsure if he answers around the trembles of his breath. "Right this way, don't worry you haven't missed a thing."

That eases him a bit, enough that he's not breathing down the man's back as they disappear down a long hallway, one left turn, two right turns. Nico finds the room number you'd given him earlier immediately, almost shoving the man out of the way to get to the door. He thinks he apologizes or maybe says excuse me but the only thing running through his mind is seeing you, being there with you.

You're pacing the room when he walks in, one hand on your lower back and the other rubbing circles over your belly. Clare is standing by the side of the bed, watching you like a hawk and Nico feels better knowing she was there. His entrance draws your attention from the TV in the corner of the room, eyes meeting his and your face immediately lights up. He moves to you before you can even take a step towards him, hands reaching up to hold your flush face.

"Why are you up? Are you ok?"

He searches your face, looks for hint of agony or worry but only finds your beautiful eyes and swollen lips. You place a hand over his, laughing softly.

"I'm ok. Still dilating but it feels better to walk." You say. "I sit down for big contractions, I promise."

Nico trusts you, backing away to thank Clare for taking care of you while you continue to move about the room. She leaves to go meet Ryan, promising to check in on you in a couple hours before disappearing out of the room. He perches on the end of the bed, watching you on the edge of his seat in case he needs to get up. The TV is showing highlights of the game tonight before cutting to the locker room just in time to see Nico give his goodbye speech to the team.

Eyebrows raised, you look at him expectantly.

"What?" He asks, defensive.

"You most definitely had time to shower." You say, waddling towards him. His hands find your hips, chin tilting up to look at you just in time to see you dramatically scrunch your nose at him.

"Not a good first impression on your daughter Nico, she's going to think you're stinky all the time."

He laughs, reaching up to move a piece of hair that's stuck to the sweat on your neck. "I have clothes in the baby bag, I'll change my love."

The relief he expected to see on your face is instead one of panic. Eyes wide, mouth dropping open and you squeeze his shoulders.

"I forgot the baby bag!" You wail, throwing your head back in frustration. Nico jumps to his feet when your whine turns to a wince, your hand dropping to your stomach. He carefully turns you until you're sitting on the bed instead, one hand crushing his as you breathe through a contraction.

He waits for it to pass before digging his phone out. "It'll be fine, I'll have Jack stop and get it. The car seats already in my car, nursery set up." Nico brushes your hair back in again, inhaling and exhaling calmly with you. "We're ready for this."

You take another deep breath, eyes not leaving his and he's tries his best to look reassuring.

"We're ready," you repeat quietly "we're having a baby and we're ready."

Two hours later, after countless swear words over tearful cheeks, her hand squeezing the life out of Nico's, and a little bit of wooziness on his part, Nico's met his daughter.

She's a tiny little thing, only 6 pounds and 9 ounces. Her fingers and toes scrunched, eyes pinched shut under blonde eyebrows but after only a couple cries, she lays on your chest with a smile. And when he leans in to kiss you, blubbering something about how much he loves you and how precious she is, her little nose scrunches in distaste. Maybe he should've showered. It ends up not mattering though because she still recognizes his voice, especially when he says sweet things in German to her, and her little head tilts towards him, hands wiggling around like she's trying to find him.

As soon as she's swaddled he's taking her, cradling her to his chest in the gentlest but safest way he can. Nico's never thought of himself as impossibly strong but she's so light and so small he's afraid of holding her too tight and hurting her.

You watch him fawn over her while you get cleaned up, brushing out your hair and sponging away the sweat and blood and goop. Nico presses his nose to the top of her head, right where little strands of blonde hair have dried, and takes in the smell of her. Her faces scrunches at him again and he wants to go change and wash up so she'll stop looking at him like that but he can't bare to put her down. Even after you've settled back in the bed and the nurses have cleared out, Nico knows you want to hold her but he still takes his sweet time handing her over.

You look so sweet, so motherly when you hold her to your chest and softly stroke over her cheek. His chest alights with warmth, spreading throughout his veins and his eyes sting with happy tears. He wants to remember this forever. He fumbles for his phone, fingers shaky as he snaps a picture of you smiling widely at her. You look up at him, eyes wet with tears but so unfathomably happy and you say, "she has your nose Neeks."

She does, he realizes, taking in the sharpness of it. Your nose doesn't look like that and while his is a bit different after breaking it, hers is so similar to his. And her blonde hair, just like him. Before he'd grown up, he too had pin straight blonde hair. He imagines her with his eyes too, big and brown, seeping off warmth everywhere they look. He thinks she's so beautiful and he hopes she has your smile because that has to be his favorite thing in the world.

Perfect, his baby girl is perfect.

Nico leaves you two alone, fishing out his clothes and the baby wipes from the bag before disappearing into the bathroom. He does his best to wipe down his body with them, wanting to hurry back to his girls but in the end decides he should just rinse off in the shower there. He forgoes the hospital body wash and conditioner, simply washing his matted hair because he wants her to know what he usually smells like, not some cheap unmarked bottle stuff. He should've asked Jack to grab his bathroom stuff but it's too late now.

Toweling off and redressing in sweats and a t-shirt, Nico combs his fingers through his wet hair and let's it air dry. He put on more deodorant, forgetting the cologne because what if she doesn't like it or has some kind of reaction to it? No he'd rather her think he smells bad.

You let him hold her again when he comes back, moving over so he can squish on the bed next to you and this time when he presses her to his chest, she leans into him, lips smacking quietly as she settles in comfortably. He laughs, shaking his head because she's unable to utter a word but he already knows she's got your same little attitude.

"Nurse came by, said the boys are about to break down the doors to get in here." You say quietly. Nico laughs again, decides he should probably go get whoever's gathered out there so he hands her back to you.

"Wait," you stop him before he can get to the door, "hand me the baby bag please."

He fishes it out from the little storage closet, setting it on the end of the bed and helping you dig through it because he knows you're tired and sore. You pull out a little black beanie with a glittery Devils logo on the front, removing the pink one they put on her head and sliding the new one on. Nico tucks everything away again, taking just a second to look at you and her. You beam at him.

"She's very proud of her dad."

Nico kisses you, a real kiss this time instead of those mushy pecks he gave you earlier. Then he presses a flittering kiss to her head, promising to be back soon before he leaves to gather Jack and the others.

The lobby is packed with hockey players, squished onto the couches, hugging their knees on the floor as they chatter quietly. Nico overhears Jack talking about seeing them earlier, poking fun at how nervous Nico looked. He sneaks up behind him, grabs him by the shoulders and Jack jumps, whirling around to look at him. Nico laughs, not even getting a chance to say anything before his friend is jumping at him. He wraps his arms around him, beaming as the others rise to their feet and join in on the hug. They're all shaking him and patting his head.

"How are we feeling captain daddy?" Wood teases, ruffling his hair. Someone pinches his cheek, comments on his puffy eyes and he shrugs it off.

"Feeling like I just had the best night of my life." He admits and they cheer again. Nico gets them all to settle down and split into to two groups. He doesn't want to overwhelm you or the baby and he doubts he can bring in 15 people. The first group calmly follows him through the hall and to the room, all of them growing quite as they lightly tread into the room in a line.

You smile at everyone as they come in, the baby still cradled to your chest and Jesper is the first to tip toe over, a bouquet of balloons and a teddy bear in his hand. He sets them on the tray next to you, looking at Nico nervously.

"You can say hi," Nico chuckles and you motion Jesper closer, instructing him on how to cradle her. She barely fusses as he holds her, eyes widening and he smiles giddily at Nico. Seeing her in his arms draws the others closer and they set up a stack of cards next to the balloons, Timo settling in the chair next to you and asking about how you're doing. Jesper slowly walks down the line, letting everyone look at her.

Dawson gets a glimpse at her before his head shoots up to look at Nico. "She looks just like you!" He exclaims, loud enough that the baby stirs in Jesper's arm and he freezes. Nico laughs, walks over and reaches in to smooth his thumb over her scrunched nose. She settles back down, but Jesper's freaked enough that he eagerly hands her off to a wide eyed Jack.

"Poor kid," Jack teases, "hopefully she gets her mom's personality or she's screwed." But tears have welled in his eyes and he's staring at her so enthralled that Nico knows Jack already loves her. In fact, they're all looking at her like she's made of precious gems.

Trusting them to be careful, Nico takes Timo's seat next to you. You reach out for his hand and he holds between both of his, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

"You've got a good group there Captain," you say, looking over as Jack shows Woodsy how to hold her head. He grins, unbelievably happy and content in the moment. He hasn't even had a chance to think about the fact that he's moving on to the next round of the playoffs yet. But all that matters right now is his family. He can think about the game later.

"She's already got them whipped into shape." He murmurs, laughing when Woodsy moves a little too fast and she gurgles unhappily, halting him. Dougie scolds him, taking her from his arms with a disappointed shake of his head.

Jack comes over, squishes himself into the chair with Nico even though it means he's sitting half on his lap. You laugh when he wiggles his hand in alongside Nico's, fingers holding both of yours.

"Congrats mom and dad," Jack says, "I've been waiting for a baby sister. All I got was Luke."

"Where is Luke?"

He snickers. "I left him at home."

You gasp but laugh, releasing their hands to shove him. Nico shakes his head, knowing he's going to have to text the younger Hughes brother and let him know he can stop by whenever he wants.

Timo's the last to meet her, blowing little kisses at her and smiling. "Hey little captain," he whispers, just loud enough for Nico to hear. "hope you like it here because you just got stuck with the whole team."

You and Nico look around, notice that everyone is still squished around Timo watching her. They're like moths to a flame following her, inching closer to the bed when Timo hands her to Nico. Jack moves over, perches by your feet so Nico has room to hold her and be close to you.

"You didn't tell us her name," Dougie says, looking between you and Nico. The two of you had been stuck between two different names but now that she's here the decision is clear. Nico was hesitant of it at first, thought it'd be too cliche or something but she's decided for herself.

"It's Jersey," you say with an amused smile. What other name could you give the baby that had done summersaults in your belly during games and decided she wanted to join the world during her father's game and has the whole team smitten with her.

"Jersey Leeds Hischier." Nico adds and the boys all soak it in, tease him a bit for being so sentimental but he doesn't care. This is his home, it's given him everything, and no matter what happens next round or next year or in ten years from now, he wants to remember everything Jersey has given him.

#nico hischier #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier fic #new jersey devils #new jersey devils fic #nhl fanfiction

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sw33tsuccubus · 9 months

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when reader is a child of Poseidon

Being a child:

people at camp are either afraid of you or love you. there’s no in between.

percy was avoided like the plague and then slowly became popular sooo

there are multiple aspects to Poseidon’s domain. “Earthshaker, Stormbringer, Father of Horses. Sea God.” there are different powers you could inherit from him.

you could be in control of water, like percy. you could make toilets explode and bend a river to do your bidding. you could make yourself swim extra fast and you could talk to sea creatures.

you could control storms. you could control the wind during a storm, you could create hurricanes, you could create thunderstorms. Zeus would hate you, but who cares?

you could control the earth, causing earthquakes with sheer willpower. when you stomp, the earth rumbles a bit. you could crack the surface of the earth if you focused.

no matter what powers you inherit, you’re always able to breathe underwater and talk to horses. those are the main traits of your fathers children.

you have a smell of sea that just clings to you. you also heal when in water. your father is quite powerful.

Relations:

your father does his best to keep a decent relationship with you. he answers as many prayers as he needs to. he wouldn’t choose favorites between you and percy.

speaking of percy

you two bully each other about your habits. you make fun of his blue food, he’ll find something to poke fun at.

you two have an ongoing prank war. you once dyed his hair pink. he once put shaving cream in your shoes. it’s awful. sometimes you team up together to prank the Stoll brothers.

when you two team up during games, everyone’s scared. first off, you two are some of the strongest demigods at camp. second, you work so well together, almost like you speak telepathically.

tyson loves you. he finds out he not only has percy, but now you too!

he crafts you something, like he made percy his shield. it’ll be engraved with something related to you. maybe one of your favorite greek heroes, or what you look like during training. it looks neat.

the three of you all hang out with Mrs. O’Leary and it’s so fun. percy plays fetch with her and you chat with tyson while watching everything with a smile. the three of you team up against the hellhound to play tug of war and you always end up bruised and scraped. but it’s so fun!

Annabeth comes up with a name, like she has seaweed brain for percy. maybe kelp head or rain cloud or something related to your abilities.

Grover will hang out with you whenever. he’s usually busy with counsel duties, but he’ll make time for you. he likes walking through the woods with you and chatting about nature.

percy shows up wherever you live for your birthday if it isn’t during the summer. Sally is often behind him, bringing in a gift and giving you a nice hug. percy will pick you up and say something along the lines of ‘My baby sibling is growing up!’

the gift is normally blue candies or a pretty seashell. it’s very sweet.

Sally and your parent will talk about whatever while you and percy talk about what’s been going on at school while playing a video game on the television or playing some random board game.

if your birthday is during the summer, percy insists you hang out at the beach and have a picnic with Annabeth and Grover and any of your friends.

percy gets a blue cake from the pavilion and carries it to the lake where they all sing you happy birthday. some Hermes kid got their hands on candles so you could make a wish.

as new eras begin, percy grows more protective over you. he can’t lose anyone else.

you become friends with will while you’re left at camp while your brother takes off all the time. #1 best friends. some may call it a bromance

he makes sure you don’t do stupid stuff while also having fun with you. you go walking in the woods and he’s making sure you don’t scramble up a tree while also chasing you around.

you watch sunsets together and have little makeovers. you style each others hair (it’s really funny sometimes) and paint each others nails. you go to the archery range together, no matter how bad you are at it. you comfort him after a shift at the infirmary, and he’s there for you after you’re strained from your abilities.

you become a popular person at camp, but this time it’s not because you’re scary. it’s because you’re older and people realize you’re gonna look out for them all.

and also you’re the half sibling of Percy freaking Jackson, but whatever.

#pjo x reader #hoo x reader #percy jackson x reader #poseidon x reader

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ohtobeleah · 10 months

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Was It Over? // Jake Seresin

-> Chapter Two: [Chemo & Charisma]

Summary: Jake arrives in Rhode Island to accompany his three kids back to Houston Texas the next morning. He expects it to be slightly awkward, but something he doesn’t expect is to be cryptically seduced by you—his ex wife.

Chapter Warnings: Mentions of Cancer Diagnosis. Jake Seresin x F!reader. Separation. Marriage issues. Mentions of death. Minor smut (18+)

Word Count: 4.6k

Author Note: Thank you for all the love and support around this series so far. It truly has been an awesome experience getting to create this storyline with you all. I'm excited to see how you all react as the chapters come out. Your concepts, theories and reactions are truly making my December that much better.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Turbulence…it can mean anything from a few little bumps to a catastrophic weather system that could knock your flying tin can right out of the air. In Surgery they call it a complication, the surgeons hit a snag, a bump in the road. Turbulence.

In your marriage, you called it Separation. One of the most unpredictable things about encountering turbulence is its aftermath. Everything’s been shaken up, undone, turned on its head. So you ask yourself time and time again, if you had the choice to avoid the plane crash, the turbulence altogether, would you take it? Would you play it safe and cancel the flight? Or would you get onboard and take your chances.

“Dad!” Little Lucy Seresin was just the spitting image of you and your grandmother. She was every bit you except for those big emerald green eyes. “Dad—!” You could see Jake making his way towards you and your three children through the crowd, all standing around your legs waiting for their father. The one who gave all three of your children those piercing emerald eyes that held what seemed like all the secrets in the universe. “Mum! Dads here! Dads here!”

“I see him sweetheart, there’s daddy.” You replied to your six year old, who, before you even had a chance to stop the only daughter of Jake Seresin, took off running across the crowded airport welcoming area towards her dad. You knew it had been far too long since Jake had been able to see his children, but you also knew it wasn't entirely his fault. The Navy was unpredictable as it was reliable.

“Hiya Lulu!” Jake smiled as wild as he could as he dropped to his knee to embrace the six year old human he’d helped create. “Oh I missed you sweetheart.” That much was true, Jake Seresin missed his kids every day that passed him by. You watched on with six year old Lennox by your side and two year old Samuel on your hip as Jake picked his daughter up and carried her back over to where you stood patiently waiting. “Lenny, how you going man?” Jake beamed as he tousled his eldest son's hair. “Far out kid, you shoot up any more and you’ll be taller than your mother.” You smiled at the dig unintentionally, before you knew you were smiling Jake had seen the corners of your lips turn upright into an unmissable smile.

“Mums says I’m growing like an inch a day because I eat all my green beans at dinner.” Jake took a moment to place Lucy back on solid ground before he came up back up to meet your gaze. It had been a few weeks since you had called Jake about your Christmas plans. He still wasn’t sure how to feel about them, deep down he wanted to tell you not to go. Deep down he was screaming at the top of his lungs for you to give him another chance, to come with him and the kids to his mothers for Christmas. But Jake knew better than to make a scene in front of the kids. But that didn't mean he couldn't be petty when he wanted to be just to get a rise out of you.

“Is that so?” Jake beamed that signature Seresin grin you’d fallen for back in college when he was captain of the football team and you were just that meek library dweller. He made you feel so much more than just the shy history buff you’d been back then, Jake Seresin had taught you a lot of things about yourself in the time you’d been his best friend and wife, now ex. Nowadays however you often caught yourself wondering if he’d miss you if you didn’t make it through the battle you were facing. The battle you hadn’t told anyone about except your mum. The battle that took all your strength to keep a secret close to your chest. The battle that was draining you or all your strength and energy. The battle that late at night you wish you could just end early.

Stage three A, triple positive grade three invasive doctoral carcinoma. Triple positive meaning that your specific cancer fed off oestrogen, progesterone and HER2 hormones. Lucky you right? Your first lumpectomy went rather well, but you were facing twelve weeks of chemotherapy treatment. Three oral tablets daily and two full days of IV sessions a week.

However, you were taking measures into your own hands as of tomorrow and were scheduled to be back in hospital for double mastectomy. You didn't want to wait and see if the cancer would spread and wanted every single bit out. But Jake was none the wiser about your medical status and assumed that you were off to Canada with friends for a white Christmas in Banff Alberta.

“Well—“ Jake carefully took little two year old Sammy from your grasp and placed his tied sleeping self on his own jean clad hip. “Mums are always right.” Jake quickly followed up as he looked down at Lenny. “There’s gonna be a ton of green beans at Grandma's house so you might overtake her quicker than anticipated buddy.” Jake gave the youngest of the three Seresin siblings a kiss on the cheek before he fully turned his attention to you. “Hey Hon—“ The way Jake stopped himself from finishing his sentence made your heart sink into the pit in your stomach. “Y/n, hey Y/n.” He corrected himself quickly as he picked up his duffel bag from the ground next to where he stood before you. “You look well.”

Oh if only Jake truly knew what you had to do in order to look well. The countless hours you spent throwing your guts up in the middle of the night. The sleepless nights that turned into days. The loss of appetite that had you dropping weight faster than you could blink. Your diagnosis had been quick but your symptoms had been even quicker to take over your daily life. You kicked yourself every day for not getting yourself to a doctor sooner.

“Yeah, I’ve been doing alright—“ Things used to be so easy with Jake, now he was standing here before you in the middle of the airport bustling with people going to and from for the holiday season and you swore he looked like someone you didn’t even know. “The kiddos keep me busy, don’t you?” You asked Lucy as she reached out for your hand and looked at you like you were telling lies.

“Mums been sick.” She told her father confidently, like you weren’t about to die then and there on the spot from embarrassment. Little Lucy had a bad habit of throwing you and Jake under the bus with one another. “She said it’s just a cold, but she’s been sick for like four whole weeks.” Lucy didn’t know any better than what you had always told her, that you had the flu. A long flu at that. As soon as you’d get the kids off to school you’d head right back to bed and sleep. The medication your doctors had you on was pretty brutal, and chemotherapy didn’t help although you’d only just started that kind of oral treatment. It packed a punch you couldn't handle.

“Oh?” Jake frowned as the five of you all made your way through the airport and out towards the car park. “Mum didn’t tell me she was sick, if I had known I would have come sooner.” Jake looked at you like he was trying to read the lines on your face. He could tell you were tied, more than normal—but despite that knowledge he’d never say it out loud. His grandmother would roll over in her damn grave if Jake ever dared to point out a woman’s under eye bags or her tired expression. So he went with ‘well’.

“That’s why I didn’t tell you.” You didn’t mean for it to sound so harsh, but you knew by the hurt look on Jake’s face that it had struck an exposed nerve. He never wanted to separate. “What I meant was, I’m fine, Lulu here sees a runny nose and thinks it’s the end of days, I would have called you if I needed help.”

“Fair, I mean—you can’t be that sick right? With your big trip to Banff planned and all.” Jake shrugged it off like his heart wasn’t breaking inside his chest. This was about to be his first Christmas separated from the women he loved more than life itself. Being in North Island made it easier to run from his problems, but the minute he got on that flight he was back inside his own head, rewinding and rethinking everything he ever did wrong to drive you away.

“Right—“ You agreed softly beside the man you loved so deeply that it burned. “Yeah, I’m just so thankful you were so happy to take the kids with you to your mothers house this year.” To be perfectly honest you were expecting Jake to push back, ask more questions, be a little standoffish on the idea of you not being there for the kids on Christmas. But he never did, and you didn’t know what hurt more.

“They’re my kids as much as they’re yours—kinda think it’s the least I can do considering you’ve had them all year round.” It was the tone you didn’t appreciate, the almost passive aggressive attitude that made you frown as you walked with Jake and your kids back to your car.

“You can see the kids anytime you like.” You tried to keep your head level, but the way Jake had said it made you question his motives. “I’d never stop you, if you wanna have them more often I’m sure we can—“

“Wasn’t that a big part of the reason you wanted to separate?” Jake interrupted before you had a chance to finish what you were saying. You were about to say perhaps you could come up with a custody agreement. Something on paper that seemed fair to the both of you that took your work schedules into consideration as well as your living conditions, the kids schooling, holidays and extended family. You were happy to discuss it more, but this year that had passed the both of you by had gone in the blink of an eye. “You were stuck with the kids too much? Seems a little counter intuitive considering you’ve become their primary caregiver.”

“Jake—“ You sighed with a longing he’d missed. “Not in front of the kids, alright?” You were trying your best, truly. But here he was in all his glory, the love of your life and father of your children, telling you that you made a mistake just in a different kind of font. “We can talk about it all when we get home.”

“I’m not doing anything in front of the kids—“ Jake shrugged as he watched you unlock the car. “I’m just trying to understand why you can’t just admit why you really left.” Jake knew why you left, because of him. He knew he hadn’t done enough in your marriage to show you how much he loved you. He just wanted to hear you say it. That you didn’t love him anymore. He wanted you to tell him point blank that you had fallen out of love with him.

But you could never say that, because you never stopped loving him.

“You know why—“ You had to bite the inside of your cheek and grit your teeth to stop yourself from yelling, Jake Seresin after all these years still managed to get under your skin with ease. “Again, not in front of the kids, let’s just get home.”

“You seem frustrated.” Jake teased with that award winning grin, he knew exactly what he was doing. You always took the bait.

“Yeah, you’ve been here for five minutes and I’m already over it.” If you had rolled your eyes any harder than you did you would have fallen over.

“Little harsh—“ Jake chuckled as he placed Sammy into his booster seat, the little buckles that used to give him a hard time when the twins were younger were seamlessly clipped up in seconds. Jake made sure his youngest was safe and secure before he stood and turned his full undivided attention back to you. “I’ve missed you.” He said genuinely with a love so strong inside his heart you could nearly feel the warmth as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and drew you in for a hug. “It’s good to see you, even if it’s just for one night before you go jet setting.”

With little hesitation you melted into the man you had married all those years ago with ease. Jake was your home, your guiding light. This past year had been rough without him and you knew deep down it had been rough for him too.

But sometimes love just wasn’t enough to save a marriage.

“Yeah—yeah it’s good to see you.” Jake felt your arms wrap around his torso as you let your cheek rest on his shoulder. “I’ve missed you too.” Jake’s scent had alway brought comfort to you, the overwhelming warmth of cedarwood and notes of vanilla bourbon always calmed you, grounded you in reality. “I’m uh—“ You wanted to tell him the truth about what was going on, but you just couldn’t do that to him. You couldn’t ask that much of him. Not after everything you’d both been through over the last year. “I’m just happy you’re here for the kids.”

“Mum! Lennox won’t let me have the window seat!”

“I’m older than you!” Lennox argued back as Jake groaned into your neck. Oh how he’d missed you, missed the kids, missed his family. North Island was great but without the four of you? Something was always missing. A piece of Jake was always missing.

“I’m not just here for the kids.” Jake pulled away at the sound of Lenny and Lucy arguing in the back seat over who was taking the middle seat. “But they’re a bonus, Honey.” He winked as he switched into dad mode and dropped his voice an octave or two. “Stop arguing, I’ll flip a coin.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***

“Oh woah—“ Jake's eyes lit up as he walked through the front door of the home you’d recently finished moving into. He’d only ever seen it over FaceTime. “It’s bigger than it looked.” The little giggle you let out as you passed him by didn’t go unnoticed. Dirty bird, Jake thought to himself as his eyes lingered down to your ass as you walked ahead of him.

“It’s enough for me and the kids with a spare room.” You replied as Jake continued to look around. Reminisce of cardboard boxes used in your move still remained scattered around the place. “The kids still wanted to put up the Christmas tree even though they aren’t gonna be here.”

“Mama said Santa will know that we’re spending it with Grandma and Grandpa and will take all our presents there.” Lucy caught Jake's attention as she barreled into the living room where the Christmas tree stood tall and proud, decorated with mismatched decorations that you and Jake had collected over the years either from stores or the kids' school crafts. “She also said I could give this to you when you came to stay the night.” Lucy explained as she dropped to her knees and reached under the tree to where a perfectly wrapped gift labelled with Jake's name on it sat. “It’s from mum.”

“Lucy May—“ You nearly hissed as you padded into the living room. “Don’t tell lie’s please.” You pointed, the deal had been you’d get Jake one present and one present only knowing he probably wouldn’t have gotten you anything, and that you’d tell him it was from the kids until he opened it. “You tell your dad who it’s from.” Jake knew by the smirk that crept across his daughter’s face he recognised as his own, that it was from you. Lucy didn’t have to say another word. But she did regardless.

“It’s from me and Lenny.” She replied as Jake sat on the couch he used to sleep on during those nights the two of you couldn’t sleep in the same bed. Those nights where the two of you needed space and those nights where he thought he was doing the right thing by you and giving it to you. He sat on the couch that felt unfamiliar now and took the present his daughter gave him with grace. “Lenny! Dad’s opening our present!”

“What present?” Lennox frowned as he walked into the living room trying to carry two year old Sam. “Oh! Mums present.”

“Lennox!” You groaned aloud in utter defeat.

All Jake could do was laugh to himself as he looked over at you. You were as beautiful as ever, his one and only love. How the fuck did things get so messy where you had to use your children as scapegoats.

“It’s fine, it’s fine—I know it’s from the kids Honey.” Jake winked as you rolled your eyes and headed on into the kitchen where you were getting organised to cook dinner. You were starting to feel awfully tired–the oral chemotherapy was starting to make you feel sicker than you had been before you knew what was going on. A double edged sword really, you keep taking the pills? You get so sick you die. You stop taking the chemotherapy tablets? You get so sick you die. Either way you were dying or you convinced yourself you were.

But Jake could never know that, your kids could never know that, so you went about your routine as normally as you could without making a fuss.

“I might save this for when we get to Grandmas, I wouldn't wanna not have anything to open on Christmas morning Lulu.” Jake smiled as he brought her in for a hug between his legs. “I love you all so much.”

“We love you too dad.” Lucy replied as she hugged Jake back. “Mum loves you too.”

“Oh does she now?” Jake knew that putting all his faith in a six year old probably wasn't the best thing he could do, but right now as he held her in his arms, the little girl the two of you had created–he did. He trusted her to tell the truth you wouldn't, because you wouldn't lie and tell him you didn't love him either. “Guess I'll just have to take your word for it then, won't I?”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***

Jake Seresin had always been a good dad, you had never questioned him on his ability to go above and beyond for his children. That was something you never had to worry about. As you plated up dinner, the laughter of your three children coming from the living room made you smile to yourself. They were loved so fiercely.

“Alright, let's get ready for dinner, yeah? Mums been cooking up a storm in here.” Jake rounded the corner with Sam hand in hand. “Smells so damn good in here.” You again smiled to yourself as Jake can to stand beside you at the kitchen counter, watching as you scooped some pasta bake onto five plates.

“When's the last time you had a home cooked meal?” It was a simple question but Jake really had to think about it for a moment as he reached over to steal a cucumber slice from the chopped salad.

“Does food from the bar count?” He asked with a half cocked smile, knowing full well that Penny's burgers and fries wouldn’t be considered home cooked in your opinion.

“No–” You grinned as Jake leaned in from behind you, trapping you between him and the counter with both arms encompassing you. “No, when's the last time it was a home cooked meal?” Jake didn't reply right away, he simply inhaled your scent slowly from behind you and took in the comforting scent of elderberry and juniper. He missed that all encompassing feeling, that safe and warming feeling of your presence.

“Uh—probably the last time you cooked for me.” Jake noticed the moment you paused at his words, the revelation that you were having. “And it was probably pasta bake, with salad and pork chops, like what we’re having right now.”

“It’s always your favourite—“ It was clear from the very beginning that both you and Jake were getting caught in the moment. But as his hands slowly make their way from the counter top to hips, you know you were too far gone to press the pause button. “Jacob—“

“I'm a simple man.” Jake cooed as he brought one of his hands up to move your hair from one side of your neck. “Lucy tells me you love me.”

“She’s got a pretty wild imagination that daughter of ours.” You teased as Jake pressed his lips against your neck in a sweet gesture of gratitude for the woman who gave him three beautiful children. “You need to stop—“ You sighed into Jake's warm embrace as he pulled away and let his chin fall to your shoulder. “I don’t know where or what you've been in recently.”

“I think she said her name was Vanessa.” Jake taunted as he held you tightly from behind. He felt you tense in his embrace at the very idea he’d been with someone other than you. But you couldn’t hold it against him, not now, the pair of you were separated. You held no claim on the man you had left in favour of putting yourself first.

But that didn’t mean it still didn’t hurt.

“Vanessa a name I should remember?” You asked with a little attitude in your tone Jake caught immediately. He couldn’t help but to smirk at the idea you were a little jealous of his very infrequent conquests. He loved you to the end of the world but this was such a frustrating situation to be in. What was a guy supposed to do? Be celebate in hopes his wife came running back?

“Nope—“ Jake reassured you with another kiss to the neck. “I’m not ready to let you go, I thought maybe I could if I just leaned into the whole thing, whatever it is that we’re doing, but I’m just not ready to let you go.”

“Have you?” Jake had to clear his throat when he asked. “Been with anyone, that is?”

“Do you think between work, raising three kids with your DNA and missing you that I’d have time to get laid?” You knew what Jake would latch onto, the part where you said you missed him. You saw the light in his eye as you turned in his embrace to face him with a mischievous smile plastered across your face.

“You miss me?” Yes. Yes you did. With all your might you missed him everyday and every night. But it didn’t change what the two of you became.

“Don’t try your luck—“ You argued, shrugging Jake's query off like the answer was obvious. To him it was, you did miss him. Other sailors tend to recognise other sailors on the sea and Jake missed you tenfold.

“Oh I’m feeling like the luckiest guy in the whole world right now.” You could feel Jake pressing himself against you, silently but not so subtly telling you exactly what this whole encounter was doing to him.

“Really? Is that so?” You asked like you weren’t aware of the rock hard erection pressing against your pelvis. Jake just pressed his lips together in an attempt to hold off the crimson red from creeping up his neck and cheeks. But he wasn’t backing down from a challenge, especially when you were leaving all the right doors unlocked for him to walk right through.

“So lucky that I couldn’t help but to notice the spare bed hasn’t even been made up?”

“Oh so you assumed I’d be your personal chef and the maid tonight?” You countered as you looked around for your three small children, not wanting to expose them to such x-rated content before you slowly but surely sunk your hand into the sweatpants Jake had recently changed into. Damn those grey sweats and damn Jake for going commando. “You are perfectly capable of making your own bed.”

The way your palm wrapped around his length sent sparks through Jake's body like nothing he’d ever felt before. Your touch was so beautiful and elegant, like you knew exactly what he needed and where he wanted it.

“Or I could just sleep in yours, with you.” Jake nearly begged as your fist slid up and down his hardened length, feeling him twitch under your control. “Honey—“ He nearly moaned as he fell forward into you, letting his forehead rest against yours. “You’re killing me here.”

“What don’t you get about the fact we’re separated?” You asked almost teasingly like you weren’t pumping him slowly as dinner cooled on the counter behind you while your kids played in the living room.

“For as long as you have my last name, you’re my wife, end of story.” Butterflies, that’s how you’d describe the feeling inside you when Jake, your somewhat ex husband, told you you were still his. You never wanted to not be his, but you were sure that Vanessa maybe wondered if she’d ever be his too.

“Oh you are so full of yourself.” You slowly but surely pulled your hand out from Jake’s sweats and watched him nearly deflate at the loss of sensation, but he never missed a beat, Jake was quick like that, he always had been.

“You could be full of me too if you just let your guard down a little.”

“Jake!!” You slapped his chest firmly as your kids all rushed in at the smell of food.

“I’ll take my stuff upstairs shall I?” He grinned ear to ear, knowing by the way your jaw remained on the ground he had you hook, line and sinker.

“Yeah, you can, to the spare room you idiot.” You watched as Jake fixed himself up and headed in the direction of the stairs. You were still so in love with this man.

“Lenny! Where’s your mothers room?” Jake turned to your eldest son who always knew that the two of you were going to make it through whatever this rough patch was. He had friends who had divorced parents, and even at the young age of six, Lennox knew his parents didn’t hate each other.

“Upstairs to the left, it’s the messy one.” You gave your son the stink eye as he beamed up at you.

“Perfect.” Jake chuckled and sent you a wink. “I’ll be right back.” He was getting laid tonight and you both knew it.

“I’m—“ You hardly had the energy to keep your whole hard to get act up, so with a sigh, you let your guard down for the man who held your heart in the palm of his hands. “You’re unbelievably.”

“I’ve been told by the youth on base it’s called Rizz now.” Jake yelled back as he jogged up the wooden stairs, you could just barely hear him as his voice faded the higher he climbed. But nevertheless, you still heard him.

“Well I can’t wait to get both you and your ‘rizz’ out of my house!” You shouted back, Lenny just laughed as he watched his Dad pull a funny face at your words from the top of the stairs.

“You don’t mean that.” He smiled up at you. “You and dad love each other.” It made your heart skip a beat, but you had to remember that you were playing a dangerous game here. Letting Jake in now would only break his heart more. You had to do what was best for you, and that was to remain separate. At least while you were fighting for your life.

“Maybe, but he’s still a pain in my ass Lenny.”

***~****~****~***~***~***

Tags: @blindedbythelightt @starset21 @tayl0rhuynh @mamachasesmayhem @marvelogic @itsmytimetoodream @maverick-wingman @kodzukenmaaa @eternalsams @seitmai @nota-professional @jessicab1991 91 @hardballoonlove @senawashere @lafrone @fanficfandomlove ve @withahappyrefrain @dizzybee03 @maisie-rebloging-blog @goldenseresinretriever @a-reader-and-a-writer @sunlightmurdock @shelbycillian @memoriesat30 @accioprocrastination

#was it over? // jake seresin #tw: breast cancer #tw: cancer #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x y/n #jake hangman imagine #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman fic

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diorsluv · 5 months

Text

infrunami (lh⁴³)

❝ in which you’ve always been in love with your childhood best friend, but he would always be the right person at the wrong time ❞

wc: 5.8k

warnings: god there’s so much angst, reader is kinda inconsistent, mentions of blood/injury, mutual pining, idiots in love, running away from “rejection”, reader is touchy with jack and besties with quinn, no use of y/n, if i missed any lmk!!

notes ) when i tell you this took me WEEKS and WEEKS just to compile a simple 5k fic.. i think it’s kinda obvious where i stopped and started back up but i tried to blend it in as best i could!! this will be a two parter simply because i was draining myself trying to drag it on, so stay tuned (might take a while)! AND LAST BUT NOT LEAST thank you to my wonderful, amazing, supportive wife @dior-roses for beta reading this (i was terrified)

As a kid, you always moved wherever the Hughes moved—it was something about the bond between your fathers that couldn’t keep your families apart for more than a week. Regardless of how many times you moved, you never felt alone. You and Luke were in the same grade, and Quinn and Jack were always looking out for you two, so isolation was never a concern for you.

Although you were inseparable with Luke, Quinn had always been your best friend. The four-year age difference between the two of you was almost invisible, and throughout your youth, you would always find yourself in his room, staring at the ceiling as you talked about everything.

You would tell him about your silly school girl crushes, and he would ramble to you about hockey and all the petty drama that happened around him. In fact, he was the reason you learned hockey in the first place. Your father could never keep your attention on the sport for over five minutes, but the way Quinn talked about it so lovingly was what motivated you to step on the ice.

Your love for hockey spurred your relationship with not only Quinn, but also Luke and Jack, to grow closer than ever. Every day in school, you and Luke would gush about the games you had watched the night prior, and every day after school, all four of you would head off to practice for your respective club teams. If you weren’t already inseparable from the way your families were bound together by an invisible rope, then you were forever connected through hockey.

You quit after a few years to pursue more academic routes, but the sport never left your spirit. There were many occasions where the boys would refuse to play if you weren’t there, simply because your presence was the only thing to motivate them to get on the ice, especially if they were having a bad week.

Somehow, though, along the way, you caught feelings. Feelings that were far too heavy to have just surfaced from the depths of your heart. No, what you felt for Luke seemed to have always been creeping just between the line of what was certain and what was unknown. There was no other explanation as to why you couldn’t handle being in the same room as him without being on the verge of exploding. There was no other reason as to why you could spend months on end with either of his brothers but couldn’t last one minute sitting beside him.

As soon as you came to that revelation, you were done for. It was over. You would rather die than acknowledge the feelings you caught for the boy that had been by your side since you were born. Because of that, you spent all your time with your best friend and his younger brother, and both your families sensed the shift as soon as it happened.

Especially Luke.

Oh, the poor boy, his heart dropped into his stomach when he realized you were avoiding him. You held your breath every time he stepped into the same room as you, let alone when he tried to stand remotely close to you. You diverted your attention away from him as much as you could, and the boy you once knew as your other half now seemed to be universes away.

It was your doing, but in a way, it was his. How dare he make you fall for him? It wasn’t fair. Not to you, and definitely not to him. It wasn’t fair how he could make you fold in seconds with the way he looked at you from the other side of the room but simultaneously have a girl wrapped around his arm trying to take all his attention away from you. He was the only boy on your mind, but he always managed to push you to the darkest parts of his brain, putting you on hold when the more important girls were right in front of him.

If only you knew.

Quinn bounded down the stairs of your lake house, which was conveniently right next to the Hughes’, with an old framed photo in his hand. “Hah! I was right!” His exclamations took your attention away from the pasta you were cooking as you now turned to his self-righteous figure. “You would never let go of that stupid plushie.”

The two of you were arguing over what (and who) you were and were not inseparable with just prior to his search for the picture, and he claimed there were multiple photos of you hugging your favorite Elmo plushie. There was a mutual agreement that Luke was one of the things—or rather, people—you couldn’t fathom to be away from, but neither you nor Quinn had to verbally confirm it. There was no need.

And, to be completely honest, Quinn had barely spoken about his youngest brother throughout the time you’d been spending at the lake houses. A few years back, you had reluctantly told him how you felt about Luke, and ever since then, he’d made it his mission to make you feel the most comfortable you could possibly be whilst sharing a connected lake house with the boy you’ve loved since you were children. The eldest saw the way you tensed up when you recognized his brother’s footsteps creaking down the stairs when it came time to eat breakfast, and he sure as hell saw the way your eyes blew wide whenever you accidentally made contact with him.

It scared you how much Quinn seemed to notice about you, especially since he and his brothers were all busy with their demanding careers that left little to no time to be tending to some childhood friend who was stuck with a crush on the most recently debuted boy. Yes, he was still your best friend (that much hadn’t changed since your childhood), but all you could do was FaceTime each other, and even then, it was difficult to find time. It was the same with Jack; sometimes, they would be too tired for practice; other times, they would be exhausted from a home game and possibly frustrated had they lost; and most of the time, they weren’t even home, so the time difference, albeit miniscule, was still difficult to navigate considering you were a busy person too.

That meant that you met up as much as you could and you stuck by each other’s side until you were forced apart by the demands of being a professional hockey player. All that time together when you were younger meant you struggled to be without each other as you got older—maybe your parents should’ve realized that, but then again, it was probably their intention.

“Okay, I did let go of it. Multiple times, actually,” you refuted with a small frown, the expression on your face practically meaningless as your best friend laughed. It only egged him on further, evoking a complaint from your lips. “Quinn! It’s not funny!”

“I mean, it kinda is.” He struggled to stifle his laughter as he rounded the kitchen island to stand beside you. Your hand mindlessly dragged the wooden spoon through the soft noodles floating around in the boiling hot water, and he wondered how your skin wasn’t burning. Gently removing your hand from the utensil and replacing it with his own, the eldest Hughes boy continued his teasing once he looked at your still-upset face. “You’re such a kid sometimes, you know that?”

Your eyes practically rolled into the back of your head in annoyance. Quinn always said that to you. Always. He never failed to address you as ‘kid,’ and no matter what you did, he always managed to bring it back to how you ‘were such a kid.’ You huffed, “You’re so fucking annoying, Quinny. I’m gonna go piss off Jack. Keep cooking, and if you burn the house down, you’re paying for all of it.”

“You’re forgetting I’m a millionaire.” His laughter filled your ears once again, and your only response was the finger you lifted at him over your shoulder.

After walking out of the kitchen of your own lake house, you took a few strides over to the sliding doors that led to the connected portion of your two homes. Your father and Jim had built it together, way back when all four of you were far too young to understand what normal lake houses were supposed to look like. It was essentially a screened-in sunroom overlooking the absolute beauty of a lake out front. They managed to hook up a large, flat-screen television on the wall, throwing a couple bean bag chairs and a rug into the room. The rest of the furnishing was left completely up to you and the Hughes brothers, so the furniture would change up every few visits.

Oftentimes, you would find Luke there, just sitting against the one wall that had a bit of a bump-out. He liked the way it felt against his back, like it actually supported him compared to the fluffy chairs that laid in the middle of the room. Whether he be on his phone, playing video games, or reading a book that was required for summer class, he would always be in the sunroom. The floor directly before the bump-out was much more worn compared to the rest of the room, the discolored wood showing just how often the youngest Hughes would find himself in the confines of the area.

There were many times when Luke would flee to the sunroom in his times of need, wanting to be alone with his thoughts. If anyone were to try to enter the room and speak to him, he wouldn’t respond. He would only ever talk to you. You were the one and only person to talk him out of his thoughts, the only one who could convince him to leave the room. Those nights were comprised of him refusing to leave your bed and whining if you got up in the middle of the night.

You missed it.

But you weren’t kids anymore. And, again, it was your fault you weren’t close anymore. You deliberately distanced yourself from him.

After pulling yourself away from your own thoughts, you tugged the Hughes’ sliding door open, the smell of freshly grilled shrimp welcoming you into the cozy house.

“Hey, sweetie,” Ellen’s soothing voice called out to you, smiling at you from her place at the kitchen sink. “How’s the pasta going?” The sound of the running water could barely be heard over the hockey game playing on the television, your father entertaining Jim and his youngest son with light chirps towards the losing team.

You could feel Luke’s eyes set on you. Shrugging, you replied, “I told Quinny to take over and not burn the house down.”

This was a regular occurrence whenever you came back to the lake for the break. You, your mother and Ellen would split up the food duties so that there was a lot of food but didn’t take too much time to cook everything. Quinn and Jack would help out a bit, but they would only ever take on the physical tasks. Luke used to help out when you were children, but ever since the distance you wedged between the two of you, he stopped helping out as much.

You looked around for Jack, trying your hardest to avoid Luke’s gaze in your search for his older brother. Ellen had now returned to her cooking, and the fathers were too invested in their conversation for you to intervene. Your eyes were darting everywhere but at your ex-best friend, and as soon as you made eye contact, you couldn’t look away.

It was too difficult.

It was so stupid.

It wasn’t fair.

His hazel eyes were too pretty. The way he looked at you made it hard to deny him the satisfaction of giving him attention. He looked at you like you hung the stars and the moon, but you couldn’t see that. You were blinded by your abundance of self-deprecating thoughts to notice.

“Hey,” he mumbled, voice being drowned out due to the other activities occurring throughout the house. You mouthed the same word back, fighting the urge to walk over to him and apologize for avoiding him, apologize for distancing yourself from the one person you know you could never live without. If you allowed yourself to break, you would never forgive yourself. He doesn’t like you back, you told yourself. You can’t embarrass yourself.

So, instead of going with your heart, you went with your brain and made your way upstairs. If Jack wasn’t downstairs, then he had to have been upstairs doing God knows what.

“Jack?” You called out, running your hand along the railing of the staircase once you neared the top.

“In here!” His muffled voice came through the door to his bedroom, and you’ve seen him in enough compromising positions to the point where you couldn’t even be bothered to pretend to be cautious. Once you opened the door, you were met with four gazes planted straight on you. You suddenly felt exposed despite your thick pajamas and only felt some sort of reassurance when you found Jack’s eyes. “Look who finally came up here!”

All four boys sat on Jack’s bed with controllers in their hands, the game on the TV now paused as their attention focused solely on you. You knew Trevor, Alex, and Cole, but you hadn’t seen them in so long that it felt awkward. “Oh, uh, hey. Quinn’s probably gonna burn my house down and I didn’t wanna be down there with Lukey, so,” you trailed off, pursing your lips.

“You’re still on that?” Alex questioned with furrowed eyebrows, placing the controller in his lap. You cocked your head to the side, not quite understanding what the boy was talking about. He continued, “I thought you got over him, like, months ago.”

Right. You had forgotten all about your accidental drunk confession the last time Jack’s friends were over. Last summer, your revelation was fresh on your mind, and you and Luke were still as inseparable as ever. His friends had also visited the lake house at the same time everyone else was staying over, so it made for a ton of chaos and little to no privacy.

Luke and his friends had left the house to go out, and for the first time, you stayed behind. Trevor and Cole were sitting at the fire pit outside, beers in their hands as they discussed the upcoming camps they were to attend. You were on your fifth drink, and although Jack was keeping an eye on you, he hadn’t noticed how you had accidentally walked into the bathroom while Alex was in the process of throwing up.

In the midst of your tipsy daze and the fact that it just so happened to be Luke’s bathroom, you called out for him. “Luke? Is that you? You know I’m always telling you not to drink that much, stupid.” You used your foot to shut the door behind you as you placed your drink onto the counter.

Alex, confused but sobering up, looked up at you with puffy eyes. Only then did he notice how you were much more than tipsy.

Your gaze was blurry and your words were beginning to slur, “If I didn’t like you so much, maybe I would be more mad at you. I don’t know why I like you, anyway. You’re always being so stupid, ‘cause you can’t see that all those girls are only ever using you for your brother or your body. They’re so mean. And I’m your best friend, not them! You always ditch me when you find another girl, and then they say shit about me behind my back. I don’t like them. What do you even see in them? God, what do I even see in you?

“My stomach hurts. I think I’m thinking about this too much. Or maybe I’m thinking about you too much. I hate you so much, Lukey, but I can’t ever hate you. You’re too pretty. This is so unfair and my head is pounding. Oh, God, I’m gonna throw up. Move over.” After your little monologue, which was definitely not directed towards the person on the receiving end, you were quick to fall to the ground beside the toilet and dip your head past the ceramic seat.

Alex brought his right hand up to flush the toilet so you didn’t accidentally stuff your face in a load of his vomit, using his other hand to rub soothing circles on your back. “‘m not Luke, but you’re safe with me.” He continued his motions throughout the five-minute duration of your illness, bringing his hand up to massage your head once you were sure you were done.

Your head was pounding and your ears began to ring, but you were visibly more sober compared to how you were a few minutes ago. Barely able to lift your head, you thanked your friend with a weak smile.

He only returned your expression and brought you up to your feet, leading you out of the restroom and towards Jack’s room. It obviously wasn’t the best option to bring you to Luke’s room, albeit being the default room after a long night, so his older brother’s bedroom would have to do.

Alex laid you down onto the mattress and tucked you in, lightly patting your cheek as you thanked him once more. He only chuckled and squeezed your hand reassuringly, “Anytime.”

And then you were left alone in the confines of Jack’s room.

You chuckled awkwardly at the memory, shaking your head in response. “Nope. Still on it.” Your hands brought themselves up to your thighs, rubbing your palms against your thick pants in an attempt to wipe away the tension in the room.

Trevor and Cole were aware of your feelings as well; you were sure everyone in the house knew. They only shot you sympathetic smiles, their priorities set on finishing the NHL 23 game plastered all over the screen.

“I’m sure you’ll get over it.”

“We believe in you.”

Their words, no offense, meant nothing to you. They were great people to hang around, but they weren’t the best guys to turn to when you were in a time of need, especially since you weren’t very close to them. They had their own issues that didn’t concern you, and your issues were ever so far from their minds.

After a few beats of silence, the mood of the room began to slowly eat away at you. If you were to open your mouth and bite down, you might as well have taken a chunk out of the thick tension lingering in the room. It was even more awkward knowing that Luke was much closer to them compared to you, and you knew they would let things slip eventually.

Not that he didn’t already know, though.

The four boys exchanged glances with one another, shrugging in unison before resuming their gameplay. You took it as your cue to stay, seeing as they didn’t seem bothered by your presence, and you were much more comfortable in Jack’s room than you were downstairs.

Allowing yourself to flop onto the boy’s soft mattress, you fished your phone out from the pocket of your pajama pants, finding solace in the way the friends laughed with each other. You remained like that for about twenty minutes before Jack beckoned you over to the edge of his bed, where he was sitting, to ask you for your opinion on something.

After dishing him your thoughts—which barely seemed to help him—you stayed snug at the foot of the bed, extending your legs out so that they lay atop his. It was one of your more typical positions when spending time with Jack whilst he was playing video games. Whether it be with his friends or with his brothers, you always found yourself comfortably overlapping your limbs with him, and today was no exception.

You both shuffled around a bit until you found a comfortable position. You sat with your legs resting on his thighs and your head laying on his shoulder; he sat with his forearms resting on your left leg. The others paid no mind to your odd positioning, their minds too preoccupied with the competitiveness flooding through the screen.

So you stayed like that for a while. For a long while, actually. You only lifted your head when the sound of light knocking echoed against Jack’s door once more, and soon after, you found his youngest brother cracking the door open and peeking through.

His eyes had yet to land on your figure. “Hey, Mom’s looking for—”

Before he could utter your name, he looked you dead in the eye.

“Oh.” He went silent for a few seconds, his eyes flickering between you and his brother. Him, of all people, should be the least surprised to see you cuddled up with Jack. “You.”

There was a certain poison in his tone that struck you right where it hurt the most. It was the way he spat through gritted teeth and looked at you with so much indifference. (It was really a façade, but you were too entranced under his gaze to realize that he could never bring himself to hate you.) The whole room seemed to shift uncomfortably with the way the tension flowed between you and Luke.

No matter how hard you tried to mask your pain and your desperation for him to notice you, you would never be able to hide how you really felt. Not with him.

“You can tell her I’ll be right down,” you murmured, slowly moving your legs from Jack’s lap, but before you could even finish your sentence, Luke disappeared as quickly as he came. When you looked back in the door frame, all you were met with was a blank wall and the faint image of where the boy stood before.

You could feel Jack lightly pat your thigh, trying his hardest to support you with the little attention he was diverting toward you. With a small sigh, you pushed yourself off the mattress and wiped your palms against the fabric of your pants, reluctantly leaving the room. Alex wished you good luck, but his fleeting words flew straight through one ear and out the other.

Downstairs, the fathers were still loud as ever, and the sizzling in the kitchen now turned into the delicious aroma of freshly cooked lunch. Quinn’s voice echoed up the staircase, and you could hear how he attempted to entertain his mom as she waited for you to come back down.

As soon as your feet hit the bottom floor, you could already sense Quinn’s eyes on you. He looked like he was being held hostage, and you could argue that he was begging you for help. He wasn’t the only Hughes boy with his gaze locked on you, but he was the only one you would give attention to.

“Oh, look! Just who you were looking for, Mom,” the eldest boy managed to divert the attention away from him and towards you. You scowled at him just before Ellen turned around, plastering on a smile as you walked towards them.

You gently placed a hand on the woman’s shoulder, “I was just up in Jack’s room. Luke said you were looking for me?”

“Oh, that’s right! Could you grab that fancy set of plates from the cabinet in your house, sweetie? It’s too high to reach for any of us parents, and you know Lukey and Quinn don’t help out with anything anymore,” Ellen spoke, evoking an argument from her oldest son. It only took one glare from her to shut him up, and you couldn’t help but giggle at his complacence.

You nodded your head with a grin, still fighting more giggles as you swerved past Quinn. He lunged at you, bringing his hands up to your waist as if he was going to tickle you, but you managed to jump just out of his reach before continuing on your journey to grab the plates Ellen wanted.

Once you made it back into your house, you dragged a chair up to the counter and climbed onto the cushioned seat, opening the cabinet and setting your gaze on the fake fine china. You only grabbed a few at a time, not wanting to break anything in fear of your mother getting mad at you. Eventually, you had gotten down to the last few plates, and once you had them in your hands, you closed the cabinet and stepped down from the chair.

Perhaps you should’ve been more aware of how high you were, because somehow, the bottom plate smashed against the countertop and shattered in your hands, causing you to let out a small scream. The porcelain had broken into small pieces, cutting into your palms, but you managed to place the reset of the plates down before beginning to worry about the amount of cuts you had on your hands.

“Shit.” You mumbled under your breath, looking at the floor to see how many shards were scattered around the floor. Your only form of protection on the soles of your feet were the fluffy socks you were wearing, and the distance between the pieces was far enough to where you could step past them.

As soon as you deemed it safe to walk normally, you swiveled on your heel to analyze the messy situation you found yourself in. You definitely should have been more careful, and now you had to clean up all the small plate shards with cuts in your hands. Fuck, your hands were still bleeding, and it hadn’t even occurred to you that it was now dripping down your arms.

All you could do was stand in place, shock still coursing in your veins. The sink on the island was in the middle of the plate murder, and you didn’t want to risk accidentally stepping on something sharp. Before you could even begin to make your way to the half-bath near the kitchen, you heard footsteps bounding through the sunroom. The glass door slid open far too aggressively—so much so that you thought it would shatter, too—and you assumed it was Quinn coming to check on you.

The plate breaking was loud enough to be heard from the other house, especially with the connected room, but you didn’t think it would be that big of a deal for him. You were usually trustworthy enough to not accidentally hurt yourself, but this was a prime example of how you really weren’t.

You didn’t want any questions to be asked, and because it was Quinn, you knew you would get made fun of before being helped. “Don’t worry—”

“Holy shit, are you okay?” The voice that spoke up was not Quinn.

Immediately snapping your head around to look at the boy standing there, frozen, your frown contorted into a grimace. “Luke—shit—hey,” you trailed off, unsure of what to say to him. “Uh, yeah, I’m fine, I was just being stupid and—”

“What the fuck happened? You’re gonna bleed out if you don’t wash your hands and wrap them up.” His heavy footsteps inched closer and closer until he was standing right in front of you, taking your forearms into his calloused hands and inspecting how bad your injuries were. “C’mon, we gotta wash this off.”

Luke led you to the bathroom as if it was his own house, running the tap and allowing the water to get most of the red liquid off your hands before taking a clean towel and gently tapping the rest off.

He was unbearably gentle with you. You felt ashamed to think of how fast your heart was beating at such a simple gesture; as if him caring about you meant anything except the fact that growing up together meant you both cared for each other when someone was hurt. Sighing to hide your true feelings, you slowly took your hands away from his touch, “Luke, I’m fine. Really. You don’t have to do this.”

His eyebrows furrowed, “What do you mean? Of course I’m going to clean you up if you hurt yourself.” He immediately took your hands back into his and resumed his actions, quickly grabbing ointment from the cabinet above the toilet. Squeezing out a dollop of the cream, he soothingly rubbed it against your wounds with a focused frown adorning his features.

You took the chance to admire him candidly. He was so worried about you, and it was so cute. He wouldn’t even let you take care of yourself because he wanted to do it for you, and he was so serious about it. You had always thought his focused face was adorable, even when you were kids, but as you grew up, it only got cuter and cuter. Fuck, you were so gone for him.

You hadn’t even realized you were staring until he looked up at you and immediately looked back down at your hands. He cleared his throat awkwardly and questioned, “Does it hurt?”

“Hm?” You snapped yourself out of your trance, your face heating up with the unexpected eye contact. “Oh, uh, no. It doesn’t hurt.” The pain you were feeling came more from your heart than it did from your body. It hurt to be in such close proximity to the boy you longed so deeply for. The awkward silence floating between the two of you pained you even more.

Luke nodded and rummaged through the drawers until he found gauze, taking great care to wrap it around your hands without causing you too much discomfort. When he finished, all he did was usher you out of the bathroom with a hand on your lower back, turning off the lights without so much as a word.

Only when you entered the kitchen did a small mumble leave the boy’s lips. “Try to be more careful next time, okay? Can’t have you going around injuring yourself and shit, or you’re gonna make me—us worry too much.” He cleared his throat after his slip-up, hoping you didn’t hear what he said. You did. “Oh, and Jack told me to let you know the guys are throwing a party tonight. He said to invite you so you could buy cups and shit, but you’re kinda . . . banged up right now.”

“It’s fine. I’ll go grab stuff from the store later—”

“No!” Luke exclaimed, his eyes blowing wide once he realized how loud he protested your suggestion. “I mean, no, it’s okay. I’ll go get the stuff. You shouldn’t drive with your hands all cut up like that. They don't care who buys what.”

You blinked at him. He was acting so weird; it was almost like he cared about you. But it didn’t matter. The others were throwing a party, which meant there were going to be tons of girls all over him, and it wouldn’t be right for you to get mad if you were the one who caused the rift between you two.

With a shrug, you silently agreed to his proposal and turned to grab the remaining set of plates still sitting on the counter. You couldn’t even take two steps before Luke was already sliding ahead of you and taking the ceramic platters into his arms. “Luke, you really don’t have to do all of this. I’m fine, look,” you showed him your hands, front and back, to try and convince him to let you do something.

“No, you’re hurt. And I wouldn’t be a good best friend if I made you injure yourself more.”

Best friend.

Two very opposing emotions coursed through your veins. On one hand, the term ‘best friend’ still sent a pang through your chest, knowing you would never be more to him than just a best friend. But on the other hand, it relieved you to know that he still considered you close enough to be his best friend.

God, you were such a mess. You were running away from him in fear of rejection, but then you couldn’t seem to stop thinking about him. What the hell was wrong with you?

Eventually, the two of you made it back into his house, the boy announcing your arrival and placing the plates down onto the dining table. He immediately found his spot back on the couch in between the fathers like before, and you instantly got hounded by both the mothers’ questions being launched at you all at once.

“I’m fine, Mom,” you grimaced. You attempted to pull your hands away from her inspecting gaze, but she brought them right back to her face. “Mom, it doesn’t even hurt anymore! Lukey already put medicine on it and wrapped them up, anyway!” You were growing impatient, and your complaints slowly turned into whines.

Thankfully, as soon as she heard Luke’s nickname leave your mouth, she dropped your hands back to your sides and grinned widely at you.

“Well, then! I’m sure you’re just fine, aren’t you?”

You sighed begrudgingly. “Yes, Mom.” You were just happy she stopped nagging you.

What you didn’t know was that she and Ellen were in pain watching their two children stay so far away from each other for such a long time. The parents always thought you two would have confessed by the time you graduated high school, but you were in college and Luke was having an amazing rookie season. It clearly didn’t work out the way they thought it would have.

You also didn’t know that Luke’s heart practically exploded out of his chest when he heard you use his nickname so nonchalantly. He always overheard you addressing him as Lukey to his brothers, but you never did it when you knew he was listening. It was almost as if saying it made your mouth run dry.

And it did.

It finally came time to eat lunch, and your stomach was threatening to growl before you all sat down at the table. Trevor, Alex, and Cole decided to eat at a restaurant instead, encouraging Jack to eat with your families rather than hanging out with them. So he stayed.

There was a specific order in which you sat. There were five members of the Hughes family and three members of your family, meaning there were eight seats total; the rectangular table fit the usual number of people perfectly. The fathers would sit on either end of the table, and the mothers would sit to their right. You and Jack sat next to your mothers, while Luke sat beside you and Quinn beside Jack.

It was a routine. It never changed. Ever.

Not when Jack kissed you on New Years. He still had to sit opposite to you at the table. Not when you and Luke had the biggest verbal fight in your life, leaving you both with scars on your knees. And especially not when you finally recognized the feelings you had for your best friend.

And as you sat in your spot, with Luke’s thigh pressed against yours, you realized that maybe loving him wasn’t all that bad.

— diorsluv 2024

#luke hughes #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes fanfic #luke hughes fic #luke hughes fluff #luke hughes angst #luke hughes fanfiction #lh43

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frudoo · 2 months

Note

I’m an autistic little gremlin- so hear me out, one of the 141 boys (or all of them idc- up to you) with a kid that they rescued on a mission and this poor little child is Autistic and hypersensitive to noise and they’ve gotta rework how they do things for now, you know, the boys are used to gunfire, loud comms, yelling at each other (all in good fun) but they don’t wanna scare the poor kid. (I just wanna heal my childhood with these men lmao-)

This was so sweet! I chose Simon, I hope that's alright!

Warnings: None!

“It’s alrigh’, little one, you’re gonna be jus’ fine,” Simon coos to the shivering child he’s holding to his chest.

If there’s one thing Simon hates the most on these missions, it’s finding innocent children terrified and all alone, trapped in the rubble of what used to be their homes. It reminds him of his own childhood, hiding away in closets with his little brother while his father wreaked havoc in the living room, on his mother. He would go through hell and back—he has, matter of fact—to make sure that no other kid would have to suffer the way he did, or worse.

Unfortunately, sick fucks still come in large quantities, intent on playing God and destroying perfectly peaceful homes with their agendas, leaving the innocents stuck in the middle of it. It destroys Simon, makes his heart grow ten times its normal size in an attempt to shelter every soul he finds to be like his own. Now, here, on the drive back to base, he holds the child in his lap, pressing their head against his chest and covering their exposed ear with one large hand.

In the short hour he’s been caring for this kid, Simon’s noticed how loud noises affect them—scratching at their ears or trying to bang their head against a solid surface—so he’s trying his best to keep the sound levels down. No obscene bantering with his teammates, only speaking into his comms when absolutely necessary. Even Soap is on his best behavior, keeping a trained eye on the child to make sure everything is alright.

“Alrigh’, kiddo, we’re on base now. S’gonna be a little loud, yeah? Jus’ keep your ‘ead on m’chest, and keep your ears covered f’me.”

Simon doesn’t dare make a move until the child nods in agreement. Only once he’s gotten confirmation does he stand, hopping off the Humvee and booking it towards the building. The cool air is calming, grounding, and immediately the kid relaxes in Simon’s hold, squirming to get down. The big man grins beneath his mask as he watches the child smile for the first time, only the quiet chatter and footsteps of soldiers to be heard inside.

The mission is far from over, but the team has a few days of reprieve before they’re back on the field. Simon takes the opportunity to learn more about the child, ignoring his superiors’ requests to get them out of here and find some foster care system to put them in—he knows how miserable it is there. The last thing he wants to do is shove this poor kid right back into another traumatic experience. No, instead, he finds some extra clothes to give them (even if they are way too big) and takes care of them the best he can—even gives them a pair of headphones to keep on when the world gets too overwhelming.

Ultimately, Simon realizes that he’s become attached to this child, and when the mission is finally complete and they’re all free to go on leave, he takes the kid home with him. A couple of weeks later, he’s certain that this is the life he wants, to fill in as a guardian for this sweet, sweet child, to something to live for. He ends up retiring and adopting the lovely kiddo.

He found peace in the quiet, the simple life, and maybe finding this new happiness in the rubble wasn’t such a bad thing.

#call of duty #cod #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley #simon riley

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coolprettyleo · 7 months

Text

begin again au ☆ - Frankies Lore!

wc: 1.8k

tw: drinking, mean coach, quitting, embarrassing? fluff bit of angst?

ryan leonard x hughes sister au!

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

frankie couldn't believe what she had just done. something that had been a long time coming finally crashed down and for the first time in her life frankie felt bittersweet.

her whole life has revolved around the sport of hockey; having three brothers playing in the NHL and a mother and father who both played collegiete and now coach is a nightmare in disguise; for someone who is so tired of trying.

dont get her wrong she loved the sport. growing up, she started to confuse what the love was actually for. she thought she held the same passion to play that her brothers did, she was wrong. she now knows the love was to watch it never play it. she loved too watch her family come together and love something so much. she loved too watch other people play. she loved it from a distance. it took a while to come to terms with that.

when she explains the situation to anyone she always uses the same analogy. she loves to hear country music but that doesn't mean she wants to become the next taylor swift. even if she was a fan.

frankie had finally had enough and quit. not before going off on her coach though. something that she had been wanting to say every time she had been forced to stay after practice, run extra drills, every time she has been yelled at for tipping a shot in, every time she had been compared to her brothers, she finally did it.

*flashback to earlier*

"I want to see you guys here tomorrow morning seven am sharp!" coach lindsey said fiercely.

frankie respected the woman. her story was something she found inspiring. but right now she wanted the strangle the woman. her bones felt as if she was just hit by a bus and she hadn't had a good night sleep in about a month. so frankie being frankie, loudly groaned.

"hughes! just for that, you can stay back and do some laps!"

dont cry. dont cry. dont cry. you caused this.

her teammates filed out torwards the locker rooms desperately trying to get away before their coach decided to ultimately punish all of them while she began to skate. in her head frankie was about to lose it as her coach began to yell insult after insult.

"cmon hughes! you're never going to be good as your brothers with that speed"

"you call that faster?"

"I didn't tell you you can stop!"

coach lindsey yelled. she looked and sounded like abby lee miller. frankie smiled to herself at the thought as she began to slow down after skating as fast as she could for about fifteen minutes straight. not feeling well frankie skated off the rink towards the closest trashcan and threw up.

as she heard her coach coming up to her she began to plead.

"please, I cant take it anymore" she cried.

"your done for tonight. and fix that attitude by tomorrow morning will ya. you think your brothers are pulling this crap with their coaches?"

"I said I cant do it anymore!" frankie yelled finally having enough. shocking both herself and her coach.

"how is any of this okay! after everything you just yelled at me, pushing me through utter exhaustion, you come over here and try to act like its okay!?! i'm done."

"grow up and stop being a brat hughes. i'll see you tomorrow."

"you won't. I promise you that" Frankie threw back as she got her bag and began to walk out.

"you walk out that door and your future on this team is done!"

"its been done" frankie said walking out with tears streaming down her eyes.

*flashback ended*

she didn't know what to do. if she were to call her family they would worry and fly in thinking she was going through a manic episode, maybe she was but this felt real and it felt good.

its like her brain and heart had been at war since she was thirteen and her heart had finally won the war five years later. she didn't know whether to laugh or cry though.

she was happy because she was finally free. but she felt a dark cloud gloom over her when she realized she had to tell her family what she just did. she honestly didn't know how they were going to react.

the guilt began to rain on her as she remembered hoe happy they had been for her because they realized she can actually go on and play professionally since the PWHL had its debut and she was already a top prospect for the 2024 year draft but she just went and ruined it.

they're going to disown me.

that thought alone caused frankie to be where she was right now. in a bar with her fake ID drinking her feelings away on a wednesday night. alone. this had to be borderline alcoholic.

"I mean I wanted this right? so why do I feel like throwing myself off the bridge! why am I like this! am I being annoying? you can tell me greg" frankie rambled on to the bartender whose name was actually john.

"im going to call you and uber" he said dismissing her not wanting to deal with a drunk college girl.

"no! let me call someone!" she said taking the bar phone away from him. seeing as her phone had died about forty five minutes ago. quickly dialing the only number she remembered due to the fact she never saved his contact in her phone.

"hello?"

"drew! please, please come pick me up! you know I hate taking ubers alone. I swear i'll give you a little something after..." she said suggestively.

"frankie? hold on drews in the shower. its will, are you drunk? really on a wednesday? where are you?" will began to scold her over the phone, sounding very motherly.

"don't you judge me, I needed this. and im at the mecca" frankie slurred.

"ryan and I will be there in fifteen" he said hanging up.

"lady get off the counter!"

is what will and ryan heard when they walked into the bar.

"oh god" ryan said as he saw frankie start to crawl onto the counter. quickly rushing over to pull her off.

"m'not interested." she mumbled when she felt big hands around her waist.

ryan felt his heart crack. he knew he shouldn't because, one she probably thinks its some random guy and two frankie doesn't know he likes her.

since he first met frankie he realized he's had a thing for her but being the good friend he is, he kept his feelings to himself not wanting to start problems with drew.

it gives him so much anger to think about the fact that drew basically just uses her for sex. but at the same time she's probably just using drew too. so who is he to to get mad.

someone who would give her the world

"what are you doing frankie" will says giving her a disappointed look as ryan pulls her over his shoulder.

"I was just trying to dance!" frankie says upside down.

"on a wednesday at seven thirty pm? at least wait till ten" ryan says approaching the car and strapping her in.

"i quit the team"

"WHAT"

"ur lying"

will and ryan said at the same time with their eyes wide. they knew frankie hated playing hockey, they just never thought she was going to quit. someone with as much talent as frankie needs to be out there.

"m'not. im done and im scared to tell my family. I think they're going to be mad" she slurred as her eyes began to water.

ryan, who cant handle to see her cry quickly got into the back seat with her, and started to comfort her. wrapping her up in his arms and wiping her tears that began to fall from her big blue eyes. he could stare into them forever.

he told will to start driving back to her apartment as he comforted her.

"frankie, your family loves you and you know that. they're never going to hate you because you quit, if anything I think they've been expecting it-"

"geez thanks ryan" frankie says crying drunkly. ryan cant help but smile a bit because even though he hates to see her like this she looks really cute.

"not like that, its just anyone who knows and loves you can see your not happy out there. I see it, will sees it, so I know for a fact they see it too. and if they didnt and they do get mad thats on them. its your life not theirs" ryan says with his arm wrapped around her as she sniffles into his shirt.

"I guess so" she finally says seeing as their pulling up to her dorm.

"can you walk me up? its okay if you dont want too! I get it, im just scared that the RA is going to see me like this and call campus security on me and-"

"frankie! of course ill walk you up, are you kidding" ryan cuts off her rambling pulling her out of the car.

"i'll walk home smitty, you dont have to wait" ryan says knowing he was doing homework earlier that was due tonight before frankie had called.

"you sure?" will says kinda feeling bad for not staying and helping him take care of her. but then realizing ryan probably wants to take care of her.

him and gabe loved to tease ryan on the fact he was hopelessly in love with frankie. of course they would never tell drew even though they know if ryan were to just tell drew how he feels drew would back off. ryan just likes to be complicated.

"yeah, we'll be fine. right frankie?" he says keeping her upright. she was fully awake but the thing about frankie hughes is she loves to lay on the floor when she was drunk.

"yup!!" she chirps while ryan smiles down at her.

they wave goodbye to will while ryan picks her up and walks to towards her door. he smiles as he gets too her door and sees her doormat.

'cool bitches only'

he opens the door using her keys that he found in her purse and hauls her inside down the hall to her room. her room was so her. he loved it.

god I sound like a creep.

he shakes the thought from his head as he settles her down, takes off her shoes, and wipes all the remaining makeup off her face. thinking of how perfect she was.

"ryan" she says dreamingly as she feels him pull the cover over her body.

"yes baby?"

frankie felt her stomach do a cartwheel and she couldn't understand why.

"thank you. for everything."

"anytime frankie hughes"

he says before giving her a kiss on her forehead and walking home.

send in ideas for this au!! im really excited for it!

#ryan leonard #will smith hockey #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #gabe perreault #ryan leonard imagine #ryan leonard x reader #frankie x ryan #hockey imagine #hockey fic #hughes sister #luke hughes x reader #jack hughes x reader #quinn hughes x reader #bc hockey

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theoceanandthestars · 5 months

Text

Friendly Lies

A/N: This is my first post/story, I’ve written before on Wattpad but never committed to writing but I feel like this is something I can actually commit too. Let me know any NCIS requests and I’m hoping to open up my writing to other fandoms soon too. This is definitely a testament to my ability to yap. Apologies for any mistakes :)

Also, I know the timelines probably don’t match up in terms of Gibbs knowing Tobias etc and Tobias having another daughter, or maybe they do, I don’t know but I thought it was a fun idea so belief will just have to be suspended. ;)

NCIS y/n fanfic, slight y/n x tony dinozzo, tony dinozzo x reader

Word count: 1969

Summary: Fornell’s daughter, Gibbs' Goddaughter, is an FBI agent working a case with her father and Godfather and decides to help get her dad to leave McGee alone after he found him asleep on the sofa with his ex-wife (I loved that episode so much) at Tony’s expense.

____________________________________________

You’d only known Tim, Tony and Ziva for a few weeks but already you knew you’d be great friends. After only knowing them for 5 minutes the day you ended up sharing a case with both your father and godfather, you were making plans to hang out with them. Your godfather, or your Uncle Gibbs as you preferred to call him, was of course more than happy to see you and be working with you, although the protective dad act from the NCIS and FBI agents had driven you slightly insane. Although you loved the rare times when you and your father shared an FBI case, that time had made you nearly want to quit, which had driven you straight to Gibbs’ team, who were more than welcoming and friendly to you.

Now, you sat on Ziva’s desk, chatting to her and McGee while your father and godfather interrogated a suspect and Tony watched.

‘And that’s why your dad hates me’, concluded McGee after explaining to you what he described as the ‘incident’ between your dad and his ex-wife Diane. Both you and Ziva had been laughing the entire time he told the story.

‘I’m sure he doesn’t hate you, Tim’, you smiled at him ‘he’s only mentioned it a few times.’

‘A few?’ Tim asked in horror, causing Ziva to snort in laughter. This topic had taken up a good 20 minutes and it had clearly been playing on his mind for a long time before that.

‘Look if you want me to talk to him I can’ you offered, trying to ease Tim’s obvious panic, but your offer only seemed to send McGee into a further state of pure anxiety.

‘No, absolutely not, that would only add to it.’ He spoke moving his chair slightly as it was currently situated next to Ziva’s desk where you were congregated. As Tim moved you gaze shifted to DiNozzo’s desk and an idea popped into your head.

‘McGee, I’m sure y/n’s right, Fornell can’t be holding on to a grudge for that long.’

‘He brings it up every time we see him!’ Tim insisted.

‘Hang on’ you quickly said jumping up from Ziva’s desk and captivating both agent’s attention, ‘I think I know how to get my dad to forget about you and Diane.’

‘First of all there was no me and Diane’ Tim quickly insisted, causing the pair of female agents to roll their eyes as they failed to hold in their laughs ‘But what’s the idea because I will do anything to make him stop bringing it up?’. Both agents’ gazes were fixed on you as you moved from Ziva’s desk to sit on Tonys.

‘Oh you wouldn’t have to do anything McGee, it would be all me’, you smirked as the two agents watched eagerly, ‘this isn’t entirely selfless though, remember when Tony told Gibbs and my dad that I’d been sleeping with an NCIS agent to try and piss them off? And it took me weeks to convince them he was just trying to mess with me and them?’, the two NCIS agents nodded, smirks growing on their faces as they pieced together what you were planning to do, ‘well I think it’s time I get Tony back for that, don’t you?’.

Just as you said this your father and Gibbs reappeared into the room and as they did, you got up from Tony’s desk and made a beeline for them, meeting them just in front of Gibbs’ desk.

‘Dad, Uncle Gibbs I need to talk to you’ you said, grabbing their attention in the most serious and anxious voice you could muster, grabbing one of their hands in each of yours, ‘I know this is really important and I want to be honest with you both’ you took a deep breath to highlight your nervousness. At this point you had captured your father’s and Godfather’s attention, squeezing their hands as you raised your eyes to meet theirs you finally said, ‘I’m pregnant.’

Now Ziva and Tim were clearly shocked and impressed by your lies, hiding their laughter surprisingly well and instead adorning looks of shock and intrigue. Your father and godfather on the other hand, with hands still held by yours, were looking at you with such pure shock your father had turned slightly white. Before they could even utter a word, you quickly continued, ‘and its Tony’s’.

At this revelation, McGee and Ziva quickly turned so that Gibbs and Fornell couldn’t see the laughter that was daring to burst out. The silence was quickly broken by a synchronised ‘WHAT?’ from the two men who held your hands. Their gazes had turned harsher, but you knew that if you wanted this to have the best effect you had to really milk it.

‘I know we haven’t known each other long’ you stated looking them both in the eyes, but were quickly interrupted by your father half shouting, ‘How did this happen?’, quickly followed by Gibbs’ ‘I’m sorry what?!’

Before you could think of an answer though everyone’s attention was diverted in the sound of a voice, Tony’s voice, ‘hey boss. Fornell. You look like you’ve seen a ghost, what did y/n do? Tell you she’s pregnant? I told you she was sleeping with an NCIS agent.’, as he Tony laughed at his own joke, Tony sauntered towards his desk, but only for a second before Fornell was on him, pinning him to the wall. Tony’s face quickly shifted to panic and confusion, his eyes scanning the room.

‘You got my daughter pregnant!’, Fornell shouted.

‘What? No’ DiNozzo squeaked out as Gibbs removed Fornell from him, freeing him from the wall. You quickly shifted your eyes to where Tim and Ziva were still at Ziva’s desk, attempting to contain their laughter. You knew you didn’t have long before the two of them blew the prank, but you also knew that the damage would be done soon enough and you would have got Tony back and your dad would definitely forget about finding McGee and Diane on the sofa asleep together.

Suddenly Tony rushed over to you seeking some sort of explanation or help but before he could squeak out another word, you grabbed his arm hugging it slightly and turning the pair of you to face Gibbs and Tobias.

‘Me and Tony are in love, dad, you can’t stop our love’ but as you got to the end of your sentence McGee and Ziva had burst into full belly laughter, causing you too to crack and lean on Tony as you couldn’t stop laughing. As the three of you continued to laugh, Gibbs only rolled his eyes at your antics, shaking his head slightly and letting out a slight chuckle. He knew that DiNozzo had told Tobias that you were sleeping with someone at the agency to piss him off and he also knew that your dad had practically become a helicopter parent for a week after he had done so.

As Gibbs moved back towards his desk, you patted tony on the chest before calming yourself enough to say, ‘you should have seen your face’. Quickly, McGee walked behind you both to return to his desk, slapping Tony on the back as he continued to laugh at Tony’s expense. He stopped by your side quickly whispering to you how he was now free from any comments about Diane. Your gaze then shifted to your father who still stood in front of you both, surprisingly quite but glaring at you both.

‘Gotta keep you young dad.’ You smiled at him, kissing his check and moving back to Ziva’s desk, the pair of you still giggling and smiling. Your dad however, kept his gaze on Tony, glowering at him, as Tony seemed to continue to shrink under his glare, still looking stunned and scared. Finally his gaze shifted as Gibbs called him telling him to go down to autopsy to see Abby with him.

At first he didn’t move, continuing to stare, before finally moving when he heard his name shouted by Gibbs. ‘I still don’t trust you DiNozzo.’ Tobias said, finally moving towards Gibbs’ desk, his gaze remaining on Tony until they were out of site.

At this point you, McGee and Ziva all began to laugh again with the same force you did when your dad had pinned Tony to the wall.

‘I did not think you would take it that far’ commented Ziva, ‘I admire your commitment’. You smiled at her amongst the laughter but couldn’t respond as tony too moved towards Ziva’s desk, where McGee had now joined you and began to stare at you all.

‘Not funny guys, I thought I was going to die!’, Tony’s statement only caused more laughter though, as his hand reached his neck, fiddling with his shirt collar even though your father had only grabbed his shoulders. Finally you spoke through the laughter, ‘I told you I was going to get you back Tony and McGee needed by dad to lay off him about the whole thing with my ex stepmother, so really I was just helping a friend’ you smiled a sickly sweet smile at him before the phone at his desk began to ring causing Tony to quickly scurry over to his desk, grabbing the phone before answering.

‘Yes boss?’ he questioned into the phone, as you high fived Tim and Ziva, ‘right away boss’, followed by him quickly grabbing his things after he put down the phone. ‘Gibbs says Abby’s matched the ballistics from the gun, wants me and Y/N to bring in the suspect.’ He stated as he continued to gather his stuff. As you listened, you quickly grabbed your bag that was sat next to Gibbs’ desk, but before you could leave Gibbs and your father returned, arguing as they walked.

‘I’ll go with DiNozzo Gibbs’ your dad argued, his gaze landing on Tony, at which point Tony swallowed.

‘No you’re not’, Gibbs deadpanned.

‘Then, I’ll go with them both’ he stated as he moved towards the pair now standing together with their bags, but not before Gibbs grabbed his shoulder directing him towards the director’s office and repeating ‘No you’re not’.

As you and Tony turned and began to walk towards the elevator, he quickly began to argue with you. ‘You know your dad is going to kill me, right?’ he questioned as you pressed the elevator button, your gaze shifting to him.

‘No he won’t’ you dismissed, ‘but he won’t trust you for a while, just like how he’s been hovering over me for weeks after you told him I was secretly sleeping with someone at your office, or like how he constantly brings up that time he found Diane and McGee together asleep. I guess it’s just time for you to get a taste of what we’ve been putting up with for years now.’ You smirked as the elevator reached your floor and you stepped inside, turning slightly as you watched Tony’s face change from looking like he was about to argue, to just giving up.

‘You know’, he turned to look at you, smirking, fully grasping your attention, ‘if you were to sleep with anyone in this office, I’d be the perfect guy. You’ve already told your dad and although he’ll keep glaring at me and probably wanting to kill me, he’d never suspect that we were actually sleeping together.’ He said, waggling his eyebrows at you as you chuckled, and he reciprocated your laughter.

As the elevator doors, reopened on the ground floor, you turned away from Tony, shaking your head slightly and rolling your eyes , before simply stating, ‘In your dreams DiNozzo’ before walking out of the elevator, not missing Tony’s whispered reply, ‘oh you bet’, before he followed you out to find your suspect.

#tony dinozzo #tony dinozzo x reader #ncis fanfiction #leroy jethro gibbs #ncis #agent gibbs #ncis imagine #anthony dinozzo #ziva david #tim mcgee #tobias fornell

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daisynik7 · 1 year

Note

“Into you” by Fabolous for Connie Springer- smut + fluff

(S4 connie ofc)

Into You

I think you’re truly something special, just what my dreams are really made of

Pairing: Connie Springer x f!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~2.4k

cw: super fluffy, kinda cheesy, college au, modern day au, lots of basketball terms (applies specifically to NCAA and NBA), explicit language, smut – PIV sex (cowgirl position), implied creampie

Summary: You and Connie Springer have been close since childhood, growing up as next-door neighbors and best friends. The bond the two of you share is undeniable, but you’ve never been able to admit how deep your feelings are, either to yourself or to him. You continue to support him as his friend while he pursues his career as a basketball player, trying to get drafted into the NBA. Though the journey has its ups and downs, one thing is for certain: The two of you will always have each other, forever and ever.

Author’s Notes: Hi anon! Thanks so much for requesting this song for the y2k karaoke party because it’s one of my FAVORITES! It really gives me Love & Basketball vibes, another favorite of mine that also happens to be a classic in the y2k era. This little fic is very loosely based off of that, so I hope you enjoy! Also, all the basketball/NBA tidbits are mostly from being with my boyfriend, who is a huge NBA fan, so yeah, sorry if any details are inaccurate lol. Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are always appreciated, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy! MDNI banner credit to @/cafekitsune. Header image from Pinterest (Slam Dunk manga).

“You have to pinky promise, okay?” Connie sticks his tiny finger out, wiggling it in front of your face, sucking on his cherry-flavored lollipop, lips and tongue-stained red. You’re both five years old, sitting cross-legged in the front of his yard, taking a break from playing hide-and-seek.

“What am I pinky promising?” you ask, voice squeaky and curious.

“That we’ll be best friends forever and ever! No matter what!” he exclaims, beaming at you with his eyes wide, twinkling earnestly.

You only need to think for a few seconds before you’re hooking your pinky with his, committing to this promise for the rest of your lives.

~~~

Ten years later, Connie makes it on the varsity basketball team in your high school. It’s rare for a freshman to make it to varsity at Ragako; the coaches must have seen that spark in him that you and his family have witnessed since he started playing at ten-years-old. You used to shoot around with him out in his driveway, where his father set up a little hoop. Eventually, the little one got upgraded to a real one, where the height was adjusted appropriately as Connie grew. You became his practice partner, no longer able to compete with him. Instead, you passed him the ball, watching in awe as he made shot after shot, sometimes deep from the street. He’d pick you up and spin you around, the two of you cheering together, impressed by his skills.

Year after year, he only improved. The way he handled the ball, expertly dribbling it between his legs, behind his back, one-handed, without looking. Or the way his feet gracefully shuffled along the court, the distinct squeak from his shoes echoing off the walls as you watch him on the bleachers, playing three-on-three against some of his buddies at the gym. One time, his friend Jean teases you. “You know, you should stop hanging around here or else people might think you’re his groupie.”

Before you can think of a smart comeback, Connie interjects, shoving Jean hard in the arm. “Hey! Leave her alone. I want her here. I only play like this when she’s around. And she’s not a groupie. She’s my best friend.” He wraps his arm around your shoulders, leading you towards the exit while Jean sputters apologies that go ignored. “Sorry about that,” he whispers to you. “Jean is an asshole. I want you around, got it? Forever and ever.”

You smile, leaning into him. “Forever and ever.”

~~~

It’s at the championship game during senior year that you realize that you’re in love with Connie.

Scouts have already contacted him about full-ride scholarships to university, recruiting him for their team. He’s the most celebrated point-guard in your school’s history, his average points and assists per game breaking records. Ever since he joined, your school has made it in the final round each year, last year resulting in a win, this year leading to a second.

With seconds left on the shot clock, tie game, Ragako with possession, Connie makes his move. He inbounds the ball to his teammate, quickly taking position at the right wing, his sweet spot. As quickly as it leaves his hands, the ball is passed back to him. He shoots it, and as it flies out from his fingers into the air, the buzzer rings, and he makes it. The crowd goes wild; one side of the bleachers erupting into a frenzy, jumping up and down with excitement. Connie’s parents hug each other first, then surround you in their arms, elated. You don’t expect him to celebrate the win with you, not with his entire team huddling around him, splashing water on his head, cheering his name. Not with all the cheerleaders and fans gravitating toward him, eager to be in the presence of a sure-to-be star in the making. So, it surprises you when you see him maneuver his way through the crowd, heading straight towards you. He pounces on you, giving you the biggest, sweatiest hug with tears streaming down his face. It’s a split second where the surrounding noise goes blank and it’s just the two of you there, basking in each other’s warmth. Soon, his parents join you, also crying happily, and it’s in this moment that you realize this is where you want to be: with him. Forever and ever.

~~~

It's no surprise that the two of you attend the same college together. Most people will see it as you following him, but in actuality, Connie agrees to go wherever you go. Lucky for you both, your top choice is a D1 university where he’s offered a scholarship to play for their basketball team. It works out perfectly, as if it were meant to be.

He’s busy from the get-go, practicing every day until the season starts in November. You become preoccupied with classes, and naturally, the two of you travel your different paths, meeting in the middle whenever you can. When the season official starts, you attend all his home games, cheering for him from the sidelines surrounded by the other students also chanting his name. Weeknights, he’s often too tired to hang out, retreating to his dorm room to fall asleep, only to repeat his busy schedule again the next day. He grows close with his teammates, spending most of his time with them instead of you, which is to be expected. After all, you and Connie are just friends. Sure, you’re completely and madly in love with him, but he’ll never know that. So, you watch from afar as he pursues his career without you in the way. It’s the way it has to be.

By the time spring semester rolls around, you and Connie barely see each other. You’ll still text, sometimes video chat or talk on the phone. He mostly vents to you about teammates or coaches that have gotten on his nerves that day. He’ll catch you up on the other schools they’ve defeated or the ones that they’ve lost to. Your school’s record is quite good thanks to Connie, who’s only gotten better since high school. If they continue at this rate, they will win the conference tournament, meaning a trip to March Madness, the most prestigious competition in college basketball. Most importantly, it’s one step closer to the NBA.

As expected, the team does win the conference tournament. That night, the entire campus is lively with students buzzing in school spirit, ready to party the rest of the weekend. All you think about is calling Connie to congratulate him, hear his voice and tell him that you’re so proud of him. You debate with yourself for nearly fifteen minutes, staring at his name on your screen, fingers so close to dialing his number. You decide not to go through with it, certain that he’s too busy with his team, too busy with his fans. He’s not thinking about you, not when his whole world is about to change. And you can’t blame him; you’re just friends, and this is the way it has to be.

The following night, your school organizes an impromptu homecoming for the basketball team, welcoming them as they arrive on the bus, fresh from their championship win. They have a couple days of rest before they leave for the NCAA tournament, but you’re sure they’ll be busy with press and practice until then. You’re not there to greet them when they step off the bus; instead, you’re sulking in your room, buried under the covers, feeling sorry for yourself for ever falling in love with Connie Springer. It’s a sad, pathetic sight, but at least you’re alone for the weekend to do it while your roommate is out visiting her boyfriend out of town.

You’re surprised to see Connie’s name flash on your phone a few hours later. You let it ring twice before answering. “Hello?”

“Where are you?” he asks. There’s shuffling in the background, as if he’s walking outside.

“I’m in my room.”

“I’m coming over now.” He hangs up, not giving you any time to respond. You sigh, mentally preparing yourself for what’s to come.

When you open the door to let him in, he wraps his arms around you in a snug embrace. “I missed you.” He pulls off to hold you by the arms, glaring. “Why didn’t you greet me off the bus?”

“I…” you start, unsure how to respond.

“I was looking for you and you weren’t there. Where were you?”

“I was studying in the library.” This might be the first time you’ve ever lied to him. You feel guilty and gross.

“Oh,” he says sadly, still staring at you.

“Congratulations, by the way. It was an amazing win.” You give him a weak smile, blinking away the tears welling in your eyes. You don’t even know why you’re crying; Connie did nothing wrong. You’re letting your emotions get the best of you, and you can’t help but crumble in front of the only person who knows you better than you know yourself.

“I don’t care about that right now. I care about you. What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing, Connie, I promise.”

“Don’t promise me shit like that. I know you’re upset. Tell me. Please.” His eyes search yours, desperate for an answer.

You look at his feet, fixating on his shoes, scuffed on the sides from playing. Tears start to drop from your face and on the carpet. “I just…I missed you too. I miss you, Connie. I…I love you.” The confession slips from your mouth in a sniffle, and you’re so upset with yourself for letting it slide in this crucial moment. Neither of you needs the drama of your unrequited love right now. Not you, knowing he’ll be leaving again soon, and especially not him, who has bigger and better things to focus on.

He gapes at you, stuttering, “You love me?”

You nod, biting your lip.

“Like, love love? Or love like a friend?”

You’re tempted to lie, just to make it easier. But you owe it to Connie to be honest with him. “Love love.”

His mouth is open, eyes bugging out, completely shocked by your admission. Before he can respond, you add, “I’m sorry, Connie. I shouldn’t have told you this right before the tournament, but…I don’t know. It just came out. I’m sorry.”

He stammers, “You’re sorry? This is the best fucking thing I’ve heard in my entire life.” He breaks into a smile, laughing hysterically, an even more bizarre reaction.

You cross your arms, getting impatient with his ridiculous behavior, eventually grabbing his shoulders to shake him out of his fit. “Connie, what the hell?!”

He wipes his eyes, crying from giggling, beaming at you. “I’ve been in love with since we were kids. Been dreaming of hearing you say that since we were five-years-old.” He hugs you tightly, nuzzling his nose to the top of your head. “I love you and I want to be with you. Forever and ever, right?”

You nestle into his chest, inhaling the familiar scent you missed since he’s been gone. “Forever and ever.”

~~~

The two of you spend the night together, making love for the first time. His lips are soft against yours, and you smile into his kiss, remembering the day you pinky promised that you’ll be best friends forever and ever, no matter what. His lips were stained red with cherry-flavored candy, looking sickly sweet as he smiled at you. And as you kiss him now, he tastes just as sweet as you imagined he’d be after all these years.

You kiss him sloppy as you ride his lap, his cock buried deep in your pussy, filling you up to the brim. He moans your name into your mouth as he laps at the saliva collecting on your tongue, slurping your spit, swallowing it thickly. “Fuck,” he groans, hands gripped to your hips, rocking you back and forth on his thighs. “I’ve dreamed about this for so long, baby. So long.”

“Me too,” you whisper, starting to bounce on him, close to your climax.

“What would you think about? Tell me,” he demands, thumb pressed to your clit, rubbing it raw.

You whine from his touch, increasing your pace, resting your head on his shoulder. “You and me, just like this,” you huff, short of breath.

“Yeah? You thought about me deep inside you, huh? Fucking this sweet pussy until you come all over my cock, huh?” He thrusts up into you, grip tightening, fingers digging into your flesh. He’s close too, you can feel it.

You moan into his skin, sweat beading on your forehead, throwing your ass back against him in tandem with each pump of his cock. A few more strokes and the two of you come together, the mess spilling onto the sheets as soon as he pulls out.

He wipes you down with tissues and baby wipes you have handy on your bedside drawer. As soon as you’re both clean, he cradles you in his arms, spooning you from behind.

“I know this is going to sound super cheesy, but I truly feel like a winner now,” he says, kissing the nape of your neck.

You chuckle, squeezing his hand in yours. “Wait until you win March Madness. Then you’ll really be a champ.”

“Even if I lose, I’ll still have you. And that’s been my dream all this time.”

You shift your body to face him, gazing into his eyes. “I thought your dream was to make it into the NBA?”

He smiles, booping you on the nose. “It’s part of the dream, sure. But I wouldn’t be anywhere near where I am now if it wasn’t for you. You kept me going all these years. Knowing you were always on my side gave me the strength I needed to get here. As long as I have you, I’ll be living the dream.” He kisses you on the forehead. “I’m going to love you for the rest of our lives.”

“Forever and ever?”

“Forever and ever.”

~~~

In an upset, your school loses in the Final Four. It’s the furthest they’ve gotten in university history, and a large part of that is due to Connie and his extraordinary performance as their point guard. His efforts do not go unnoticed; his coaches and many prospective agents have contacted him, encouraging him to apply for the NBA draft.

June of the same year, Connie Springer is drafted tenth in the first round and you’re sitting right beside him with his parents, cheering for him. Just as you have throughout all these years, and just as you will for the rest of your lives. Forever and ever.

#connie springer #connie springer smut #connie springer x reader #connie springer x you #connie springer x y/n #Connie springer fluff #connie smut #connie x reader #Connie x you #aot smut #aot fluff #attack on titan fluff #attack on titan smut #y2k karaoke party #milestone event

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bi-scottsummers · 2 months

Note

Hi, hello, just came here to say that I love your fic "trending in Japan". I was wondering if you had headcanons regarding Kenji or Emi or interpersonal relationships and stuff. Many hugs for you.

hi hello, thank you for the encouragement and hugs! After some thought ive realized I do in fact have some hcs about some of the character dynamics in the movie as well as just kenji himself, cause hes captivated my entire brain:

Kenji & Emi

Emi does not have teeth but she does inexplicably have a teething phase. kenji is forced to hide all his (salvaged) fancy cars in the garage bc the corvette's already been chewed to hell and his heart is gonna give out if he has to watch any more classics get wrecked

he reads her bedtime stories. A lot of aesop's fables, because theyre short and fun and hes trying to raise his monster daughter with good morals. emi goes hogwild for these but its unclear if she actually understands what hes saying; kenji's pretty sure she just likes the silly voices he uses for different characters

they go flying together! they go first thing in the morning before breakfast - it helps kenji shake off the grogginess of sleep and emi gets to stretch her wings. shes not able to go very far for very long initially, but as she grows and gets those cardio gainz she almost gets to be quicker than him. they have races and play air tag :)

while she doesnt have the vocal range to speak english herself, it becomes clear that emi does understand it well. (kenji also develops an ear for her chirping/squawks, though body language & facial expressions play a big part in communication for both of them) during her (much later) rebellious phase she'll simply pretend not to know what's being said when kenji is telling her to do something she doesn't wanna do, which frustrates him to no end

Kenji

developed a pretty massive chip on his shoulder after moving to the states. it wasn't just bitterness over his dad staying behind, though that was a part of it. this is canon but he was picked on in school for "how [he talked], how [he looked] and what [he ate]." he felt like he had something to prove to both his father and the world. he threw himself into sports - specifically baseball - and his academics, and he did so well that it forced everyone to shut up about how he was different from them and focus on how he was better than them

^ playing off this: kenji had a bonkers fucking yonkers routine when he was a kid/in highschool. he'd get up hours before school started to practice his swing, go for a ~1hr run, workout, study, etc. He'd go to school, come home, and do it all again. this is exaggerated but my point is that this kid was DETERMINED and had the discipline to see that determination through to the end

didnt have many friends because of all aforementioned things. he had acquaintances, and he was invited to parties and outings and stuff (never went), but he spent most of his free time hanging out with his mom. he never really had a "parents are so embarrassing" phase. he always liked to do anything with his mother: going to the bank, going grocery shopping, watching cheesy telenovelas till ungodly hours in the morning, etc. she was his no.1 supporter, confidant, and best friend

he played for his university's baseball team and got scouted at 19. his mom forced him to finish his bachelor's first so once he graduated with his degree in kinesiology at 21, he was drafted to the dodgers

Kenji & Ami

both of them, up until meeting each other, were totally dedicated to their career (and child) so they had basically 0 time for friends. theyre both borderline losers but theyre juuust good enough at what they do for people to admire them instead of finding them sad and lowkey pathetic

kenji is way more into the idea of being friends than ami is. hes pretty enthusiastic about it; he thinks that they have a kind of rapport, since they share a similar work ethic and are both (unbeknownst to ami) single parents. he calls her to chat abt random things. ami initially isnt superrrr into it; she thinks kenji is kinda lonely and desperate for human connection, & it isnt until her mom points out that she has not spoken to anyone outside of work-related reasons in 10+ years that shes like oh shit, i am also lonely and desperate for human connection. so she grudgingly acquires a friend. theyre both really bad at it

need to clarify that in my mind their dynamic is 95% kenji yapping about work and drama in his personal life (circumventing the 8m baby kaiju hes raising) while ami goes "mhm mhm" and takes notes until kenji notices and is like What are you doing. at which point ami is like...... right . nothing. im listening. and forces herself to put the notepad away. she has a hard time disengaging from the reporter mindset and just hearing something intriguing without turning it into an article. the other 5% are the rare moments where theyre connecting super well - ami's psychoanalyzing the hell out of whatever kenji just said and hes like what are you my therapist. over time she starts opening up to him, too, and eventually theyre comfortable enough to be having philosophical discussions over breakfast just for funsies

before kenji reveals that hes ultraman, ami thinks hes in a gang. he keeps showing up to their lunch "dates" with like bruised eyes and fractured bones and gets all shifty when she tries to ask about what happened. when she eventually confronts him about it, hes so offended that she thinks hed be involved in something like that that he tells her about being ultraman

thats about all i can think of rn, though im sure ill think of more after rotating all the characters in my head for a while. thanks again for stopping in, i appreciate the support :)

#sorry this took so ridiculously long for me to get to #i didnt have too many hcs before i sat down to think about it and i didnt wanna just talk about kenji #honestly. if im being honest. lemme be honest. i find it hard to write for and/or about emi #shes cute asf i loved her in the movie but since she is a literal baby child its difficult for me to get a grasp on her #i can only really think ahead to when she grows up and starts developing a bit more of a personality #anyway. hope this is suffices #ultraman rising #ami wakita #kenji sato #emi sato #mine #asks #anon #trending in japan #entry 2 in the TIJ tag lets goooooooo #just to be clear btw. ami & kenji is a platonic thing to me #not that i hate the idea of them together i just dont feel like they have that sort of chemistry #and anyway (i talked abt this in the notes on TIJ ch.3 but) i lowkey hc kenji as aroace so it doesnt gel w my personal interpretation of hi #but take it as romantic if u want i really dc. theyre silly together in any way

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xjaylyn · 2 months

Text

PART 6 - Bad Boys: Second Chances

Pairing: Armando x Black! OC (Rya)

Warnings: blood, graphic, guns, death, mature, language (use of the n word), and some other stuff I probably forgot about sorry

Summary: It's been two years since Captain Conrad was framed. Another mission brings the team back together and new relationships are formed. It's said everyone deserves second chances and room to grow. So maybe this is that second chance

A/N: I was beating my brain trying to write this part in order to drop tonight as promised. I don’t know why it was so hard to come up with something for these past two parts, but whew. I’m not sure how much I like these past two parts, but I don’t know. We’ll see where it goes from here. Enjoyyyy🥰

(^ photo creds - @yeahnohoneybye )

…7:00 pm…

Taking one last breath and letting go of the bathroom sink, Rya steps back and looks at herself one last time before stepping out.

The beautiful silk champagne dress graced every curve of her body. Her hair was pressed and perfectly curled at the ends, and her makeup was light but effective. Despite how good she looked, she couldn’t help but feel the weight of last night affecting her body. Every time she closed her eyes, she was met with her father staring back at her.

Shaking her head, she grabs the small clutch on the sink and strides out of the locker room into the common room to meet everyone else waiting on her.

"Wow, you clean up nice, Rya," Mike says, fixing his cufflinks on his suit.

"Thanks," she mutters, watching Kelly walk over behind her to clamp the small, discreet necklace around her neck.

"This has audio and video. We’ll be able to see and hear everything. Just be careful, alright?"

Rya nods, feeling how light and delicate it is. To anyone else, it looks like a plain diamond necklace, which is good since they didn’t need the dealers to think otherwise.

Rita steps forward, clearing her throat, making everyone look her way. "Alright, everyone. This is it. Rya, you know what you need to do. The rest of you, be ready for anything. Let’s make this count."

---------------------------------------------------------

"Alright, everyone in position?" Rita says into everyone’s earpiece. A string of "yes" can be heard in response.

Nodding her head, Rya stands behind two people in line. Slightly looking up, she notices Dorn’s drone making its way towards her before hiding in place.

"Alright, we got eyes on you, Rya. You are good to go."

Looking ahead, she steps forward as the two people in front of her enter, coming face to face with the bouncer.

"Name," he asks, looking down at his list.

"Kim Smith," she says smoothly, looking up at the bouncer with a small smile on her face. The bouncer looks her up and down before checking a name off a list.

"Enjoy your dinner, Ms. Smith."

Nodding her head, she walks into the elegant place. Smooth jazz playing in the background and people in fancy attire holding glasses of champagne surround her on every corner. A waiter comes to her side, offering a glass, which she kindly takes.

Looking around, she spots a dimly lit booth in the far back corner. She can see a waiter stepping away from the table, granting a better look at the faces occupying the space. She instantly recognizes them as Sergio’s business partners whom she has worked closely with before.

Taking a quick sip of her champagne, she makes her way towards the booth. Staring at the man facing her way, he looks up before smiling at her.

"Agent 007," he cheers, standing up to greet her, causing the other man to look behind him.

"Mr. Williams and Mr. Velez, nice to see you both," she greets, taking a seat in the booth.

"Yes, lovely to see you. Hermosa como siempre, mi amor (beautiful as always, my love)," Velez says, putting his cigarette to his mouth and looking Rya up and down.

Javi Velez, despite his young age of 30, is a notorious kingpin in Mexico and one of the biggest drug dealers in the game. His supply of drugs has been keeping Sergio’s operation going for years, especially after Sergio suffered a major loss. It could be said that Sergio is in debt to him.

"What are you doing in Miami, agent? Heard some shit went down at the corp; shouldn’t you be there?" Williams says, leaning back in the booth.

Joe Williams is a very important connection to Sergio’s operation, especially being his financial advisor. Every deal and check went through Joe. His mind was always on the money and knew how to handle it very well.

"Sergio sent me here to handle some business. Said we have some loose strings that we need to tighten," she says, raising a brow at the men.

The two look at each other before looking at the young woman. Chuckling a bit, Velez burns his cigarette. "Nah, nothing over here, preciosa. We'll let you know if we hear anything."

"You sure about that? Word has gotten around that you made some new connections that you haven’t informed Sergio about," she says, picking up her glass and eyeing the man.

All of a sudden, the sound of a phone goes off. Silence falls between the three as Joe opens his phone to read the message. As Javi and Rya stare at each other, Joe clears his throat, setting his phone back down.

"Well, it seems to me, 007… you’re the loose string."

'Fuck.'

All of a sudden, the background music cuts off, and all the people in the building stop their talking and look back at the booth, pointing their guns at Rya.

"Whoa, what the fuck?" she can hear Dorn say in her earpiece.

Rya sets her glass on the table and looks up at the vent above them. There was Armando hidden with a rifle, aiming down at them, ready to fight.

The sounds of bullets ring through the room, and she quickly flips the table to shield herself. Grabbing her own gun from under her dress, she quickly points it at Joe, who aims his gun at her and shoots his wrist, causing the gun to fall.

From above, Armando jumps down and shoots Javi to immobilize him. Pushing the table down, Armando steadily shoots at all the people in the foyer along with Dorn’s drone.

In the corner, Rya notices Mike and Marcus making their way into the shootout. Feeling someone coming up behind her, Rya quickly turns around, blocking the swing to grab their arm and turn it back on them until she hears a snapping noise. Drawing her gun, she goes for straight headshots on each person running towards her, hitting each one. Running out of bullets, she drops her gun, takes the clip out, and blocks a punch before sending a hook and taking the clip, stabbing it up their side multiple times.

"Rya, watch your six!" she hears Dorn.

Spinning around, she swings, knocking the person down before reaching to a table to grab the fork lying on a plate. Throwing it with a lot of force, she lands it in the middle of the person’s forehead.

Feeling someone grab behind her, she quickly reaches out to fight them until she hears a gunshot and their body drops. Looking up, she sees Armando aiming her way.

"That was your eighth," he says before lowering his gun.

Rolling her eyes, she looks around, noticing all the bodies on the floor. Mike and Marcus standing in the middle, ready for more.

"Who else?! I may be old, but I still got it, come on!" Marcus taunts, looking around. Hearing a groan come from beside him, he looks down to see a man reaching up for him, glaring at him.

"Now that’s just pitiful," Mike says, shaking his head before shooting him.

"Guys, they’re getting away," Rita says in the earpieces.

Quickly reaching down for a gun, Rya turns around to where Joe and Javi were limping away before shooting at them.

Dropping her arm, she makes her way to the two groaning on the floor. Armando picks up Joe, sitting him up against the wall. Rya drops down in front of him.

"Just tell me where Sergio keeps his inventory, and we can all go home."

"I’m not telling you shit," he coughs, glaring at her.

"Okay."

Aiming the gun at his thigh, she shoots him again, causing him to scream.

"Fuck, f-fucking bitch!" he groans.

"You did it to yourself," she says, aiming the gun at his head.

He just laughs, pressing his head to the barrel. "You still can’t make me say shit."

"Alright, if he ain’t gonna speak, let’s ask this one," Mike says, grabbing Javi.

"No te voy a decir nada, negro," he grits.

"The fuck did he say?" Mike says, looking back at Armando.

"It don’t matter, I heard 'nigga,'" Marcus says, aiming his gun at him.

"How’s Diane? Heard she got student of the month at school. That’s cool, Haywood Middle School, right?" Rya asks, staring at Joe, causing his eyes to widen.

"You sick bi-"

"Didn’t Amy get a promotion? She’s a manager now at Kr-"

"The witch," Joe heaves out.

"The witch?"

"Yes, the fucking witch. I can’t say it out loud but what she does best," he rushes, glaring at her.

Aiming towards Javi, she fires another shot, hitting him in his calf, causing the man to curse her.

"Joe, don’t try and run ten on me just tell me the fucking location," she says, keeping her eyes on Joe.

Spitting out blood, he closes his eyes before relaxing against the wall. "Her fucking voodoo shop. It’s underneath there, you sick fucking bitch," he grits, giving up.

"You’ll live," she says, standing up and looking back at the crew.

"The shop is in Miami, everything we need should be there."

"Your hit," Armando says.

"How many times are y'all going to come for my appear—" Rya rolls her eyes, causing Armando to shake his head and point at her shoulder.

"No, I mean you got shot."

Stopping mid-sentence, Rya looks down to where he was pointing to see the open bullet wound. Blood oozing down her arm. It most likely went all the way through.

"I'm fine...we need to go and grab what we nee—" She says, looking back up at everyone.

"No, no, we're going to call it a night, and you're going to get that wrapped and bandaged. We can go in the morning," Mike says crossing his arms.

Opening her mouth to go against him, Marcus cuts her off. "Don't even try to say otherwise, especially to Mike's hardheaded ass. He already made the decision for you."

---------------------------------------------------------

...AMMO HEADQUARTERS 2 HOURS LATER...

"Rya, you can stay at my house for the time being. All I ask is to clean up after yourself and don't leave any bloody bandages around, alright? I got a one-year-old that's starting to understand the concept of walking and grabbing random shit to put in her mouth," Mike says, walking towards the common room where Kelly was wrapping Rya's shoulder.

Nodding her head, she thanks Kelly as she finishes with the last bandage. Mike watches as she gets up and heads towards the locker rooms along with Kelly, leaving him and Armando by themselves.

Clearing his throat, he looks up towards his son sitting by the computers on his phone. Hesitating for a second, he decides to make his way up towards him and pulls up a chair next to him.

"I know it's been a little hectic these past couple of days...you good?" he asks with concern, studying his son's features.

"I'm not in prison..." Armando says, looking up at his father before looking back down at his phone.

Raising his brows, Mike sighs, leaning back in his chair. "Yeah, uh, Mando, I know we aren't completely there with the whole...father-son thing, and we don't ever have to be...we can simply be two men that respect each other...uh, but, uh, I do want you to know that if you need to talk about anyth—"

Getting up from his seat, Armando looks down at his father, furrowing his brows. "I don't have anything to talk about with you...we help each other out...that's it," he says, giving one last glance at the man in front of him before walking away.

Nodding his head, Mike watches as his son walks out. Standing up, he grabs his keys and makes his way out to the car to wait for Rya.

'We help each other...that's it.'

---------------------------------------------------------

...MIKE'S HOUSE...

"I have spare pajamas if you need some, Rya. I'll be happy to lend you something other than police shirts and training shorts," Christine says with a small smile, standing at the guest room door.

"I'm okay with what I have, thank you, Christine."

Upon arriving at Mike's house, Rya was instantly greeted by his former counselor and now wife. With a wide smile and an even wider hug, Rya was a bit caught off guard by the greeting but appreciated it nonetheless.

Their home was beautiful and comfortable. With it being a four-bedroom space, she was given the option to choose her own space to stay.

"We have some pain pills and more wound dressing if you need to change it in the bathroom right here. Get some sleep this time," Mike says, stepping into the doorway with baby Amara in his arms, her head gently resting on his shoulder as he bounced her up and down.

"Yes, let us know if you need anything. Goodnight," Christine smiles before closing the door.

Laying down on the full-size bed, she groans, feeling the soreness of her shoulder now that her adrenaline is down. She didn’t know how long she layed there staring at the ceiling until she sat back up, sliding on her house shoes that Christine gave her.

'Yeah, I'm not getting any sleep tonight.'

Making her way downstairs, she pours herself a glass of water before sitting down at the island. Seeing a figure move in the corner of her eye, she quickly looks up and lifts the glass, prepared to fight.

"It's just me."

Dropping her arm, she watches as Armando steps out with his hands up before walking towards the cabinet to grab himself a glass and pour some water.

The two sat in silence as Armando took a seat next to Rya at the kitchen island.

"Back at the restaurant—" Armando starts, still staring ahead.

"The guy said 'the witch'... referring to my mother, right?" he asks, looking down.

Turning her body towards Armando, she glances down at the man, not answering right away. Since they've met, Armando had this hard demeanor, but tonight she can tell he was vulnerable. Though he's trying not to show it, she could see right through the facade... it's one she does often herself.

"Yes... that concerns you?"

Looking back up, he makes eye contact with Rya. "Nah... just connecting the dots," he says, standing up and walking towards the sink to rinse his glass.

Staring at her glass in hand, she looks back up at Armando making his way out of the kitchen.

"You really think she loved you... like a son?" she asks, watching as he stops in his steps before turning around. His brows were slightly furrowed, and his eyes wandered for a bit, trying to avoid eye contact.

"Even if she didn’t... she cared more than anyone else."

Staring at the man for a bit, she nods her head, considering his words. "You tired?"

Scrunching his face in confusion, he hesitates before answering. "Depends."

Standing up from her seat, she turns completely towards him and crosses her arms.

"Your mother’s voodoo shop... I can grab what we need, and you can find out who your mother really was."

Considering her words, Armando nods his head before turning around to head towards the garage.

"Dont slam my door getting in...I aint forget about earlier"

"you pissed me off"

Tag list: (lmk if you want to be added🫶🏽)

@blackgirlmagicforever @believeinthefireflies95 @wizewhispers @omg-mymelaninisbeautiful @sarcasticbitchsblog @maybepersuasivetom @d4rno @honggihwa @literallegendicon @ninacutebee16 @hannie-squirrel00 @themainacc @stressedmess-21

#armando aretas #armando imagine #armando x reader #bad boys #armando aretas x black reader #armando aretas x reader #bad boys second chances #jacob scipio #bad boys for life #bad boys ride or die #mike lowrey #marcus burnett #martin lawrence #will smith #armando aretas x black!oc

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roses-for-rosalyn · 1 year

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what if abby's father and the reader's father were friends and the like to hangout and play tennis a lot ; one day jerry anderson tries to convince his daughter to play a game with him, his friend and his daughter (reader) who has just returned home after two years of travelling ;

both girls accept their father's invitation! then the big day arrives and abby finds herself in front of reader in her pretty tennis set (and maybe something could happen in the locker room, after a heated match 👀)

I'm baaaack!

Sorry this took me so incredibly long it's been a weird few weeks. I hope I did your idea justice, she's a long one.

word count: 3.3k

content warnings: enemies to lovers, mean, competitive Abby, thigh riding, fem! reader, oral (r! receiving), fingering (r! receiving), overstimulation, dirty talk, modern au where Abby's dad isn't dead obvi, no use of y/n

--------------------------------------------------------

You were sitting at your kitchen counter sipping on a glass of ice water and gazing out the window, watching the summer breeze rattle the trees. It had been a few weeks since you’d gotten back from Europe, but ice still felt like a luxury. Europe was so beautiful and you wouldn’t trade it for anything, but after a few years you started to yearn for air conditioning, cold water and disgusting greasy fried food. Your first bite of a McChicken back in the states was orgasmic.

You also missed your family, your dad would call you every other day and talk about his day in incredible detail. He joined a country club and got into tennis while you were gone, he even made a few friends. You were especially happy about that because you were worried about him getting lonely while you were gone. You didn’t want him rotting in an empty house while you went out and traveled the world. Even though your dad’s days were mundane and repetitive you just liked listening to him talk. His voice was the only thing that could dull the feeling of homesickness.

The front door opening pulls you out of your thoughts. Your dad walks in clearly having just got back from the country club, he was dressed head to toe in tennis gear including a visor. You can’t help but giggle at how stupid and preppy he looks. You didn’t exactly grow up going to country clubs, and dressing in brand name clothes. Luckily your dad had gotten a new job so he could splurge on himself. It made you happy to watch him treat himself for the first time in his life.

“What? Why are you laughing at me?” He looks up and down checking his clothes for stains or any wardrobe malfunctions.

“Nothing, you just look a little funny dressed in your tennis uniform. Not exactly used to you in country club attire.” You smile as he acts mock offended.

“I think it suits me, thank you very much.” He dramatically marches over to the fridge to fill up his water bottle. He’s really not gonna let go of this.

“You’re right, you were born to wear exclusively Vineyard Vines and sip wine on the balcony of your third beach house.” You say with a smirk.

“Sounds pretty nice to me.” He smiles and leans on the counter across from you.

He hesitates before saying “I’ve been meaning to invite you to play with me and Jerry, I think you’d have fun, it’ll be like the good old days on your high school tennis team. You’d probably deeply humble both of us.” Jerry was your dad’s best friend right now, one of the first people that welcomed him into the country club.

“Dad, I haven’t played tennis in three years I don’t kn-”

“Jerry said he’d bring his daughter too. She also used to play a lot of sports in high school. We could do father daughter teams or daughters vs fathers. It’ll be fun.” He sounds so excited, you would feel way too guilty turning him down at this point.

“Ok, ok. Have you met his daughter? Is she like.. Nice?” You didn’t want to have to fake getting along with her for your dad’s sake, if you were being honest you would probably end up doing that anyway. Your dad wasn’t exactly good at finding you friends.

“Yes, she’s incredibly nice, and respectful. She’s a few years older than you, about 25 I think, and she works for a construction company.” He pauses trying to recollect the little information he knows about his friend’s daughter. “She’s so strong I’m pretty sure she could pick me up bridal style.” Your dad laughs at his own joke, but now you are a little nervous. It’s starting to sink in that your dad essentially set up a playdate for you with an incredibly buff woman. You just hope you don’t end up noticeably ogling at her, maybe you’ll get lucky and she’ll be incredibly mean.

You woke up bright and early the next morning, your dad bribed you with a fancy breakfast before the match. The food was delicious, but you couldn’t stop your nervous movements, constantly tapping your fingers or feet. Your dad noticed and reassured you there was no reason to be nervous, and that there’s no pressure. To be honest your nerves weren’t completely because you were out of practice. Meeting new people always made you anxious, especially when it was arranged like this. There was an unspoken expectation for everyone to get along and enjoy themselves and you liked to keep your expectations low.

Before you knew it you and your dad were walking to the tennis courts. Your dad noticed you were starting to get all up in your head.

“Hey, loosen up kiddo this will be fun, if it’s not you let me know and we can leave. I’ll just tell them I’m not feeling well and we can get ice cream. Jerry will understand.” He messes with your hair a bit and you feel mildly relieved.

Once you get to the tennis court all of the relief you felt drained from your body, immediately replaced with pure anxiety. As you walk onto the smooth green court you see a middle aged brunette man, no doubt that was Jerry, and a tall strong blonde standing next to him. She towered over him, every muscle chiseled to perfection by what must have been some higher power. As you got closer you could see her biceps straining against her blue t-shirt, her thighs were barely visible, but from what you could see they were just as muscular as her arms. You were beginning to ogle when you’re snapped out of it from the sound of your dad greeting Jerry. Your dad shakes hands with Jerry and Abby and you begin to do the same. Abby’s blue eyes pierced right through you, a neutral expression adorning her face. She was incredibly intimidating considering she could clearly snap you in two. You shake Jerry’s hand “I’ve heard so much about you, hope you still remember your stuff from high school. Your dad and I have gotten pretty good.”

You smile and reply “It’s been a while, but I’m sure I’ll warm up in no time!” You liked to stay humble, but honestly you were pretty good at tennis. You had won a lot of games and you were one of the best on the team. You didn’t talk about it much though because you were self aware enough to know literally no one cares about tennis. You were also as a result extremely competitive so you were hoping you would be able to tone it down in order to not scare your dad’s friend away.

You move to shake Abby’s hand “I’m Abby, nice to finally meet you.” From her tone you would have assumed she thought it was indeed not very nice to meet you. But you nod and smile as her calloused hand engulfs yours. You can’t help but notice how warm her skin is to the touch and how large her hands are.

She was incredibly attractive.

“Alrighty you guys ready for an ass whoopin?” Jerry jests.

“You bet.” Your dad replies.

You and your dad make your way to the other side of the net and get into your ready positions. Abby serves the ball first and her swing was strong, but it was no match for your speed. You quickly learned the harder Abby hit the ball the louder she would grunt, so naturally you attempted to rile her up further. You would smirk arrogantly at her every time you and your dad gained a point, and take an extra long time getting ready to serve on the rare occasion she and Jerry would score a point. You and your dad rack up points quickly and the blonde was growing visibly frustrated. She was starting to hit the ball even harder, her jaw was clenched and her expression was so serious. It was adorable.

Eventually Jerry calls for a break and sits on one of the benches with you dad, leaving you to sit with Abby. Alone.

You sit down next to her on the wooden bench and start sipping from your water bottle. She does the same and you sit in silence for a bit. You notice the sweat on her brow and how her shirt is starting to stick to her skin. You can almost make out her abdominal muscles through the thin blue fabric.

“I’m not usually this bad at sports, not used to losing.” Abby says, looking straight ahead. You can’t help but smile at her discontent, she seems just as competitive as you.

“I’m sure your strong muscles get you pretty far in most sports, but apparently tennis is not one of them, especially when you're up against an expert like me.” You say trying to joke around to lighten her mood.

“I wouldn’t classify a varsity tennis player as an expert, but okay.” She says with a smug look, still not facing you. She definitely did not understand your humor.

“Clearly enough of an expert to beat you.” You shoot back. Abby grows silent and continues to sip her water.

You sit in silence while your dad chats with Jerry, giving up on trying to make conversation with Abby. Eventually Jerry and your father stand up ready to finish the game. You and your dad beat them miserably. The game only ended because the sun started to go down, the country club quickly emptying out for the day.

Your dad and Jerry suggest you all get washed up in the locker rooms before leaving. They walk away from the tennis court side by side talking and laughing while you and Abby walk behind them in almost total silence. Once the group reaches the locker rooms the two dads turn to you and Abby.

“Would it be ok if me and Jerry grab a drink together? Abby can take you home in Jerry’s car.” The absolute last thing you wanted was to be stuck in a small car with this mean blonde, but you smiled and nodded.

“See you later kiddo.” Your dad smiles and tussles your hair before walking into the locker room.

You walk into the locker room as well, planning to just keep your distance from Abby for as long as you could until you were stuck with her in a tiny car. You can hear her heavy footsteps follow behind you and you quickly put your bag down, grab a towel and walk towards the showers to avoid facing her. You walk into one of the stalls and turn on the shower. The warm water helps to calm you down and soothes you. You lather on the soap massaging your muscles to relieve any soreness or tension, making sure you washed all the sweat away from the match. Unfortunately you have to be quick because you don’t want to make Abby any more annoyed than she was.

As you step out and begin to dry yourself off you realized you forgot your change of clothes.

Fuck.

You wrap the towel around you tightly and make your way to the lockers. Abby is sitting on the bench in the middle lacing up her shoes. Thank god she was looking down. You scramble over to your bag and grab your clothes out. You turn to head back to the showers to change in peace but Abby’s voice stops you.

“You took fucking forever.” She’s not looking at you, which you have observed to be a habit of hers.

“Didn’t want to stink up your car. Is that ok with you?” Abby scoffs, but says nothing in response.

“Seriously what the fuck did I do to you?” You blurt out, exasperated. You’re not usually this confrontational, but you felt like you deserved an answer. “I have barely had a conversation with you and for some reason you seem to have a problem with me or something.”

Abby stands up angrily to face you and you had almost forgotten you were wearing a towel until she looked at you up and down with wide eyes. “You weren’t even gonna get dressed before asking me that question?” She sounds genuinely pissed off. Was everything you did an inconvenience?

“Doesn’t matter, just answer it.” You look her straight in the eyes, challenging her.

“Fine. You really wanna know?” You nod “I barely had a conversation with you and I could tell you were a brat.” As she’s talking she starts walking towards you, you didn’t even realize you were backing away until you felt the cool metal lockers against your skin. “You have an attitude problem, you know that? You don’t know when to shut the fuck up” She’s close, too close, she’s looking directly down at you daring you to respond.

“Are you fucking kidding me? You were the one who started being rude to me.” You refuse to break eye contact with her, trying to intimidate her from your height was ineffective, she wasn’t backing down. “What are you gonna do?” You ask boldly, tilting your head inviting her to answer. “Teach me a lesson? We both know you’re not gonna do anything, so just let me get dressed so I can get home and never see you again.” She doesn’t respond, the only sound was you and Abby’s synchronized breaths as she stared at you with a fire in her eyes. Her stare somehow made you feel more naked than you already were, making you overly aware of the fact that you were wearing a towel that was starting to slip down.

“You have no idea what you’re asking for sweetheart.” She says almost breathlessly. The anger in her eyes quickly turns into a hunger when she looks down at your towel slowly slipping off your body. You’re holding on to the towel for dear life.

“Fuck.” Abby says breathlessly before doing the absolute last thing you could have expected. She kisses you. Hard.

You let out a surprised squeak and quickly back away, both of your chests heaving. You look in her eyes and see a desperation and hunger that’s almost scary, but for some reason you kiss her back. Abby melts into you and threads her fingers into your hair. You place your hands gently against her chest as she pushes you further against the lockers with her strong body. Her hands slowly travel down to the towel barely maintaining your dignity. She gently pries your hands from the soft material and rips it off throwing it across the room, keeping her lips on yours the entire time. You barely notice the cool air against your bare skin, she is so close to you you can feel her body heat radiate through her clothing.

Abby uses her foot to move yours outward, spreading your legs enough for her to slot her thigh between them. You moan into her mouth the moment her strong thigh makes contact with your bare cunt. You start slowly writhing against her, trying to relive the ache that was growing in your center. Abby breaks away and looks down at you desperately grinding on her thigh. “You’re already so wet for me sweetheart. Barely had to do anything.” She smiles smugly as she watches you become a moaning mess, her thigh creating a perfect pressure against your clit.

Abby starts kissing you down your neck, occasionally sucking on the sensitive skin, the feeling of her rough tongue causing you to whimper. She begins circling her fingers around your nipples, teasing them, before pinching them and rolling them between her fingers. You begin to move faster against her thigh and the pleasure in your belly begins to build. Your moaning starts to become louder as you begin to reach your high. Abby notices and moves her thigh further against you, putting even more pressure on your sensitive bud. “You close baby?” You nod and whine, desperate for any kind of release. You start moving faster against Abby’s thigh and your pleasure quickly hits its peak. It comes crashing against you in overwhelming waves, forcing loud moans from your lips. Abby eventually puts her leg down and backs away slightly, before kneeling in front of you. Before you can ask any questions she grabs one of your legs, hooks it around her shoulder and licks a stripe up your soaking cunt. You hiss through your teeth, sensitive from your first orgasm. She begins teasing your clit with her tongue and you have to thread your fingers into her hair for something to hold on to.

You barely manage to whimper out, “Abs-fuck- I-I’m too sen-senitive.”

She stops for a second and looks up at you. The sight of her kneeling between your legs is nearly enough to have you coming again. “You can take it baby, gonna make you come until you can’t give me that attitude anymore.” And with that she starts lapping at your cunt once again. She sucks your clit into her mouth, her tongue circling your sensitive bud. You let out a surprised whine, your chest heaving from the intense sensation. Abby’s hands grab hold of your hips, bring you closer to her mouth.

You can feel another orgasm building as Abby rubs her thumbs in circles against your skin. You begin uncontrollably writhing against her tongue, but Abby quickly uses her grip on your hips to pin you firmly against the lockers forcing you to remain still. The action caused your pleasure to bubble over. “Abby-”, you whine out “-ffuck-fuck.”

She keeps assaulting your clit through your orgasm, not slowing down. As you begin to come down, you become sensitive again and try to wriggle away from her. She pins your hips against the lockers and looks up at you with a stern look in her eyes. She wasn’t going to stop until you couldn’t even hold yourself up.

She shoves two fingers inside of you causing you to gasp at the sudden intrusion. Her digits slid in easily, your arousal now dripping down your thighs. She curls her fingers forward causing you to have to bite your lip to keep from screaming.

“Don’t you fucking dare bite your lip I want everyone to be able to hear you screaming for me sweetheart.” You clench around her thick fingers at her words and Abby takes that as a sign to keep talking. “You’re taking me so well princess. Think I can add another finger?” You nod eagerly at her in response. “Use your words baby.”

“Y-yes pl-please yes.” With your pathetic reply she adds another finger, filling you to the brim. She fucks you at a steady pace occasionally looking up at you to watch your face scrunch up in pleasure. She begins sucking hard on your clit causing you to let out a pornographic moan. She speeds up her fingers, hitting your g-spot with each thrust. Little moans and whimpers were escaping your lips every time her fingers hit that spongy spot. Your walls began clenching around Abby’s fingers and she knew you were close. Your orgasm hit you quickly and caught you by surprise, your whole body feeling the most intense pleasure you’ve ever felt. You’re not even sure what noises you were making or what you were saying, the pleasure was so blinding all you could do was buck your hips into Abby’s mouth. You were being held up exclusively by Abby’s grip on your hips. She stands up and quickly scoops you up bridal style to sit you down on the bench. She helps you get dressed and you could barely protest, she reduced you to jello. Abby stands up and offers her hand to help you up. You oblige and as you stand up she says “Need you to teach me your tennis skills sometime.” Weirdly she’s smiling.

You can’t help but smirk, “Yeah? Well it’s gonna cost you and I don’t take sexual favors as payment.”

#abby anderson #the last of us 2 #abby x you #abby tlou #abby x fem!reader #abby smut #abby anderson smut #abby anderson x reader #the last of us smut

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