rule five — marriage.
john tucker x fem!reader
warnings - avoidant reader mentioned, cuties, fluff literally only ever, i love them, she/her pronouns, probably some spelling mistakes, idk lmk if theres more
tags (if orange i cant tag you): off campus tags - @antisirkbitch , @ethanthequeefqueen , @zophiathefirst , @dooubleooseven , @virgoalert123 , @harls-sturn , @lisiliely | series tags - @ethelcainlxver , @mariiibash , @thecraziestcrayon , @cutiesinthecosmos , @bearymuchso , @letterboxd-lovr , @beammeupthisplacesucks1
breaking the rules series list
"I'm never getting married." Was something you used to say to anyone who would listen, honestly.
A few years after graduation, and you were still with Tucker.
The sweet, caring, gentle man he had always been.
The man who reassured you through every insecurity, especially during those first few months of your relationship. Back when you couldn't stop yourself from thinking he was cheating whenever practice ran late, or that he didn't want you anymore when he was simply exhausted and wanted to sleep.
You always felt guilty afterward.
Guilty for making him reassure you over and over again.
It became one of the reasons you slowly started pulling away.
Not because you loved him any less, but because you hated feeling like a burden.
Luckily for you, Tucker noticed immediately.
He noticed when you got quiet.
He noticed how you barely touched your food when the two of you were fighting, compared to how easily you laughed and ate when things were good.
Most importantly, he never made you feel difficult.
Never made you feel like loving you was work.
He wanted to take care of you, and he made sure you knew it.
So when the two of you moved in together after graduation, something inside you settled.
Sure, there were arguments.
Small onrs.
The kind that happened when you were both exhausted or needed space.
But somehow, no matter what happened, you always found your way back to each other.
You wished you could say you'd spent those years waiting for the day he proposed.
But you hadn't.
Not because you didn't want to marry him.
But because you didn't know if you could.
Anytime someone asked, "So when's he finally putting a ring on it?" your heart would speed up just enough for you to notice.
You trusted Tucker.
You knew you did.
He'd proven himself a hundred times over.
But somewhere deep inside, fear still lingered.
And Tucker knew it.
So before he ever thought about proposing, he made sure you were ready.
Not by asking.
Not by pushing.
By waiting.
By building a life with you first.
You already acted like a married couple in a lot of ways, but what really sealed it was getting a pet together.
He watched you care for something that belonged to both of you.
Watched how natural it became.
How it didn't send you spiraling the way it once would've.
The thought of building a life together no longer scared you.
Not the way it used to.
And that was when he started looking for a ring.
He went to store after store.
None of them felt right.
Eventually, he settled on one that was fine.
Not perfect by any means, judt fine.
You were on vacation together when he was hoing to propose
A beach town filled with little shops and narrow streets.
At least, that was the plan.
The night before he intended to propose, everything changed.
The two of you were wandering through the shops when heyold you he was going to use the restroom.
Which was true.
But on the way back, he passed a small jewelry store.
Something made him step inside.
A bell chimed overhead.
"Looking for anything special?" a voice asked.
Behind the counter sat an older woman.
Her name tag read Cynthia
Tucker rubbed the back of his neck. "Uh... not exactly. I mean, I already have a ring, but..." He trailed off.
Cynthia smiled knowingly, "It doesn't feel right?"
A surprised laugh escaped him.
"Yeah. Something like that."
He glanced down at the display case.
"She deserves the best, you know? And... God, I'm nervous."
Cynthia hummed.
"Tonight?"
Tucker shook his head.
"Tomorrow."
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then his eyes landed on a ring.
Not extravagant.
Not tiny
Just right.
The exact metal you preferred.
The exact style you always gravitated toward without realizing it.
His stomach flipped.
"This one, um.." He pointed through the display case. "How much is it?"
Cynthia carefully removed it from the case and handed it over.
"It's a little pricey."
Tucker's face immediately fell.
"But," she continued softly, "you remind me of my husband."
He looked up
"And if this is really the ring you want, you can have it for half price."
His eyes widened.
"Oh, I couldn't let you—"
"I insist."
The stern look she gave him made it clear there would be no arguing.
The next morning, Tucker paced around the hotel room so much it was driving you insane.
"If you wear a hole through the floor, you're fixing it," you muttered from the couch, coffee cradled between your hands while watching tv and getting ready.
"Haha, funny." He sat down.
Five minutes later, he was pacing again.
You narrowed your eyes.
"Are you okay?"
"Fine."
"You're acting weird."
"Am not."
You stared.
He stared back.
"...You're acting weird."
The rest of the day wasn't much better.
He dropped his phone twice.
Forgot where he'd left his wallet.
Nearly walked into a pole while looking directly at it.
You would've laughed if you weren't genuinely concerned.
By sunset, he suggested a walk on the beach.
That wasn't unusual.
The two of you loved walking together.
What was unusual was how sweaty his hands were.
"Tucker?"
"Yeah?"
"Why are you sweating?"
"It's warm."
You looked toward the ocean breeze currently whipping your hair into your face.
"No its not?"
"Right."
You stopped walking.
He stopped too.
"John."
He knew that tone.
"What's going on?"
For a second, he looked like he was considering lying.
Then he sighed.
"I had a whole speech."
You blinked. "A speech?"
"Yeah."
"For what?"
He laughed nervously.
And suddenly, it clicked.
And your stomach dropped.
No.
No, no, no.
Your heart started pounding so hard you could hear it. The man he was, Tucker noticed immediately. Of course he did.
His expression softened.
"Hey."
He stepped closer.
"Breathe, sweetheart."
A shaky laugh left you.
"I am breathing."
"Barely."
Your eyes burned.
Because this wasn't supposed to happen.
Or maybe it was.
You didn'treally know anymore.
All your life, marriage had been the final rule.
The biggest one.
The one that felt impossible to break.
Don't marry an athlete.
Don't trust an athlete.
And do not by any means.. end up like your mother.
And standing in front of you was exactly the kind of man you'd sworn you'd never love.
Except John Tucker wasn't your father.
He never had been.
He never disappeared when things got hard.
He never made you question whether you were enough.
He never made you feel small.
He loved you loudly.
Consistently.
Every single day.
"You don't have to say yes," he said quietly.
And somehow, that made you cry.
Because he wasn't pressuring you.
He wasn't trapping you.
He was simply giving you a choice.
Because he loved you.
"I know."
His eyes looked suspiciously shiny now too.
"Okay."
He smiled softly.
"Good."
You laughed through your tears. "You still haven't asked."
"Right."
A nervous breath
"Right. The speech."
He took a deep breath.
Then lowered himself onto one knee.
"I had something really romantic planned," he admitted. "Buthonestly i have forgotten about ninety percent of it."
You laughed.
"But what I do remember? is that I love you."
Just like that, your chest ached.
"I loved you when we were in college and..." His voice trembled. "I loved you through every fight, every bad day, every moment you doubted yourself."
Your eyes filled again.
"And I'll love you when we're eighty and arguing about whose turn it is to feed the dog." A watery laugh escaped you.
"It usually mine."
"Probably." He smiled.
Then opened the ring box. Your breath caught.
Because it was perfect.
Not flashy.
Not over the top.
Just you.
"I don't want forever with anyone else," he said.
"So, sweetheart..." His voice cracked.
"Will you marry me?"
For a moment, everything disappeared.
The waves.
The wind.
The people around you.
All of it faded into the background.
Because for years, marriage had felt like a warning.
A mistake waiting to happen.
Something destined to end in heartbreak.
But when you looked at John, it didn't feel scary.
It felt safe.
Abd it felt like home.
And maybe that was the difference.
You weren't marrying your father.
You were marrying John.
The man who loved you enough to wait until you were ready.
The man who never once made you earn his love.
The man who shattered every expectation you'd ever had about athletes.
About men.
About love.
"Yes," you whispered.
His face immediately broke into the biggest smile you'd ever seen. "Yeah?"
You laughed. "Yes. Yes, i'll marry you."
He was on his feet before you finished speaking, pulling you into his arms as you both laughed and cried at the same time.
And somewhere between his kiss and the ring sliding onto your finger, you remembered the fifth rule.
Don't marry an athlete.
Well.
You'd already broken the other four.
Might as well finish the list.
