#He's a pathetic dad but he's trying his best and that's what matters | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rinhaler · 8 months ago

Text

I Should Just Walk Away !

His knuckles are split, what are you meant to do? Not tend his wounds? Someone’s gotta do it! It doesn’t mean you’re going to fuck him again. No way.

✧˖*°࿐: 18+ only, no minors. ✧. ┊ underground fighter!ryomen sukuna x f!reader

Genre: porn with a plot (and a sprinkle of angst?) Notes: I'm gonna make a masterlist and stuff bc I love this au but I'm lazy pls bear with me! ♡ Warnings: 18+, fem!reader, blood ♡, wound care, daddy!kink, size difference ♡, age gap, degradation, fingering, tit sucking ♡, slight edging?, dacryphilia, m+f masturbation, car sex ♡, vaginal sex, creampie ♡, pet names (princess, sweetheart, baby, kid), mutual pining ♡, angst??, calls ur pussy she/her ♡, (lmk if i missed any!!) Words: 8k

—

Even after proclamations of love for each other, the rest of the ride home is silent and uncomfortable. In hindsight, it might not have been the best decision to divulge the truth of your tryst with Sukuna to your little brother.

You could try to reassure him. But what would be the point? You’re only a few years older than him, yet somehow, you’ve forgotten what it’s like to be a teenager. When you were Megumi’s age, though, you had parents.

They were alive.

Sure, you were somewhat rebellious but you behaved for the most part. You studied, worked hard, steered clear of ‘bad’ boys. And, as Sukuna so elegantly put it, you’re a ‘snooty doctor’. You’re thankful for that, because without that salary you’d never be able to afford subsidising your brother.

You had your parents.

But you’re all Megumi has.

It’s a little unsettling how quiet he’s actually being. You were bickering not too long ago, you’re taken aback that he seems to have no desire to continue. A fleeting thought that he might be trying to punish you enters your mind.

Your head snaps a few times to look at him, though he doesn’t do the same. There’s a little grimace on his face as he looks at you from the corner of his eyes.

It’s disgust.

“Are we okay?” you wonder, and the way it leaves your lips in a warble must be pathetic for your brother to hear. He scoffs immediately after, still outright refusing to say another word. You make sure to keep an eye on the road, though your gaze can’t help but wander towards your sibling when you get a chance. “I’m just going to make sure he’s patched up properly, okay? He’s not staying the night.”

“As if that matters.” he rolls his eyes.

It should matter. You don’t know what he means, and you don’t dare ask him to elaborate. There’s no reason for you to be scared of a seventeen-year-old. You aren’t. You’re more afraid of disappointing him.

“Megumi…” you take a breath. “It’s late. I think we should talk properly tomorrow.”

He takes a breath not too dissimilar to yours, you aren’t sure if it’s inherited or if it’s a habit he’s picked up from you. Is he mocking you? He doesn’t say much more, shrugging his shoulders is an answer all on its own. And still, it makes your heart twist as anxiety pierces through it like a stake.

“Fine.”

“Really?!” you bark out unintentionally. Maybe he’s more mature than you’ve given him credit for, because agreeing to talk properly is the last thing you expected. Your eyebrows knot briefly, and you look at him again when you reach a red light. “Are you fucking with me? You’re not serious, are you? You’re gonna sneak out in the morning and I won’t see you until—”

“I said fine. Didn’t I?” he grunts. “At least be quiet when you fuck him if you insist on lecturing me in the morning.”

“I’m not doing it again, I told you.” you assure him. “It was a stupid mistake and I regret it but I just wanna make sure his hand is okay. And then I’ll tell him to leave. I promise.”

“Should prob’ly tell him that, ‘cause he won’t stick around once he realises.” you both find yourselves looking in the rearview mirror at the man following behind you at a distance before quickly averting your eyes. “Don’t make promises you’re not gonna keep. You sound like my dad.”

“Ouch, babe. Noted.” you laugh a little despite being genuinely offended.

The rest of the journey is completed with your brain on auto-pilot. You aren’t even sure how you made it home without crashing once you realise you’ve parked perfectly in the driveway.

Megumi snatches your purse and ducks out of the car, making a beeline for the front door. You watch him as you allow your head to gently thud against the headrest behind you; he’s frantically looking for the house keys so he can shield himself from any possible sighting of you and his boss together.

He drops your purse on the ground with little care once he finds what he’s looking for, and you’re startled when you hear a knuckle lightly rap against your window.

“Nice place, princess.” he speaks, though it’s slightly muffled by the closed window.

“Stop calling me—”

“Oi. Pick up the purse.” Sukuna warns your little brother before he can hide indoors.

He looks over his shoulder at you both before slowly crouching down to pick it up. He grips it tight before finally disappearing.

Sukuna gives you room to breathe before offering a hand to help you out. Like you’ve never gotten out of your car before. Instead of taking it, you stare. You stare at his obscenely large hand and can’t help but remember his fingers had been inside of you mere moments ago.

You smile, as politely as you can, before hurriedly chasing after your brother.

He saunters after you with a lazy smirk playing on his features. You only see it when you remember you’d forgotten to lock your car. The sound of his Mercedes locking is a deafening reminder.

You enter your home; he hadn’t even bothered to turn a single light on as he charged straight towards the kitchen. You’d expected him to have locked himself in his bedroom by now. But instead, his silhouette is illuminated by the light emanating from the open fridge.

He grunts when you switch on the living room light, looking at you like a raccoon caught going through the trash as he chomps down on the cereal you’d bought on the way home from work.

“Can you get the first aid kit from the cupboard?” you ask him as you take off your coat and throw it down over the back of the couch. “You shouldn’t be eating so late, y’know.”

“I’m starving. I didn’t eat today, ‘m a growing boy, y’know.” he counters. He moves to look through each and every cupboard. He looks at you and shrugs before continuing to eat.

Your eyes are both directed to the sound of a gently closing door. You half smile at Sukuna as he enters before you look at your brother again in contemplation.

“Oh I moved it to the bathroom ‘cause we never use it.” you sigh as you make your way there. “You can finish eating in your room if you want.”

“Tryna get me out the way?” he rolls his eyes. “Don’t worry, I don’t wanna stick around here anyway.” he side eyes Sukuna as he walks with his bowl towards his room.

You don’t see the amused grin he offers your little brother while you retrieve the first aid kit.

If you had, you’re sure you would have sent him home too.

“Sorry,” you groan, setting the kit down on the coffee table. You stand with your hands on your hips as you stare at him. It’s dawning on you, now, regardless of how exhausted you are. You’ve let a man you barely know into your home. A man older and stronger than you’d ever hope to be. You’ve welcomed a criminal into the space that is meant to be the safest for your little brother.

“I’m not gonna kill ya, sweetheart.” he cuts through your thoughts as if he can read your mind. It makes your heart race, though your face remains stoic as you try and disguise your evident worry. “Last thing I wanna do is scare you, though. I’ll go if you’re—”

“No, it’s fine.” you interject. “I’m tired, though. I’m gonna get changed because I wanna go straight to sleep after this, okay? You’re not staying.”

“Shame, I had fun.” he grins, circling the couch before sinking into it. His body is angled towards you while his eye looks you up and down with purpose. “Get comfy, I’ll be right here waiting for you, darlin’.”

Even someone as headstrong as you can’t deny how giddy he makes you. You walk backwards, unable to take your eyes off him before you eventually find your bedroom. Everything he says is so intentional, it’s almost vindictive. Like he knows just what to say to have you weak at the knees for him.

But this isn’t you.

You’ve never been the type to fall for a man’s alleged charm quite so easily. But you also didn’t think you were the type of person to fuck a stranger. He isn’t exactly a stranger, though.

He’s Megumi’s boss.

“Stop calling him that.” you whisper to yourself as you try and break yourself out of your spiralling train of thought.

You dress yourself in the most unflattering pyjamas you can find, wearing them with the full expectation of turning Sukuna off of you. He can’t possibly still be angling to fuck again when he sees you in mismatched pyjamas, complete with aged holes and stains from that one spaghetti night you and Megumi attempted.

There’s a feeble attempt made at wiping your makeup off, although you barely try. Your smile is almost blinding as you look at what a mess you are. The panda eyes from your smeared eyeliner and mascara enhance your sunken eyebags. Your eyeshadow glitters across the bridge of your nose and into your hairline beside your temples. Your pretty lipstick that you’d lined so perfectly is half removed while the other half is smudged down your chin.

You emerge from your bedroom with a confidence you only ever experience when you’re at home in your comfiest clothes. Despite your appearance, and even despite your company, you’re so content.

His eyes squint as he looks at your face, and even still, he’s smiling. He chuckles softly as you get closer to him, sitting beside him as you open the first aid kit.

“You look way prettier like this, princess.” he tells you, folding his arms across his chest as he continues to stare.

“Ah! Really? You think I look prettier?” you ask sarcastically.

“No, you look awful.” he laughs. “Is this all for my benefit? I still want to fuck you, admirable attempt though.”

You shake your head and roll your eyes as he laughs a little more, and you force yourself to frown when you realise his laughter is contagious. Everything he does is so effortless; you can’t remember the last time you genuinely smiled so hard it hurt your cheeks.

His eye fixates on you as you begin to look through your little first aid kit and pick a few things to use on his knuckles.

“I’m sure you could have done this yourself,” you start as you pick up a packet of antiseptic wipes and begin to clear the blood surrounding his knuckles. “Could have gone to a walk-in place if you were really worried.”

“Of course I could. Been doing this for years, did you really believe I don’t have my own first aid kit?” he asks. “I wanted you to do it.” he confesses, though he’s no longer smiling. You don’t stop wiping away the combination of wet and crusted over blood on his hand, though you can’t help but stare back at him.

Is he trying to scare you?

“You’re unbelievable.” you tell him, quietly.

“It’s hard to do it with one hand, sweetheart. And you’re a professional, I’d have to be an idiot to do it myself.”

You look away, only to pour rubbing alcohol onto a clean wipe. He can’t help but be transfixed as he watches you, admiring how your dainty little hands are so delicate with the equipment. How your face appears so irritated as you perform tedious tasks such as this, but you do it regardless, and he thinks it’s sweet.

“You should be on my payroll,” he finally smiles again. “My private doctor.”

“No.” you shut him down.

“I forgot how stuck up you are. I thought you’d at least be fununtil tomorrow.”

“Be grateful I’m doing this at all.” you reply with ease. All enjoyment and giddiness over his company seems to be a distant memory as you recall the type of man he actually is. You’re grouchy and exhausted, and he’s testing your patience. “I don’t like you and I don’t like what you do. And I hate that you’re involving Megumi.”

“Lighten. Up.” he warns you.

You press the wipe quickly into his cuts, and you can’t help but smile as he winces from the abrupt stinging pain. You laugh harder as he tries to downplay it. His expression becomes unreadable as he tries to appear detached. You can see it in his visible eye, though. It’s watering.

He can’t help but break at the sound of your laughter, however, as you continue to snicker whilst rummaging through for a roll of gauze to wrap around his knuckles.

“I usually don’t crack when I do that myself. You wanted it to hurt.” he smirks, shaking his head.

“Guilty.” you continue to giggle as you face him again.

He doesn’t say another word as he watches you wrap a thick enough layer of bandages around his bloody knuckles. The somewhat shallow lacerations seem to cause slight discomfort despite being taken care of. You watch him, purposefully, as he flexes his fingers a few times to test how it feels.

You aren’t sure if he knows you’re staring, but his guard seems down. It could be an act to disarm you, but you aren’t convinced he’s a good enough actor to pull it off. The genuine curiosity and intrigue on his face due to your handiwork makes you feel off. Is he judging your ability to provide proper care?

It’s not like you wanted to.

But you both know that’s a lie.

He grins when he finally notices you staring at him. And that makes you relax. You were right, he was genuinely lost in thought despite being in your presence.

“You should go now,” you say quietly. You angle your body to rest your arm over the back of the couch, your balled fist supporting your head as you begin to yawn. “I’m tired.”

“Sure.” he nods, moving to stand before relaxing into the soft seating. “I need your number.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Yeah, ya need to give it to me sweetheart,” he smirks, mirroring your body language. “Need it so I can tell you when I wanna see you again.”

You scoff, shaking your head defiantly at his bold claim. The thought of him clicking his fingers for you to come running like a loyal lap dog is almost enough to make you gag. You’d slap him if it wasn’t so late, you’re too tired and you don’t want to cause a fuss for Megumi or your neighbours.

“You’re never gonna see me again,” you smile, biting your lip as you look him up and down. “And you’re not seeing Megumi, either. He’s done with your little fight club. And I’m done with you, period.”

“Aren’t you meant to be smart? Concerning that a doctor could be so naïve.” he squints slightly as he regards you, looking you up and down as you had him. You’re so sure of yourself, he can’t help but wonder if you’ve forgotten about your current appearance. “I’ll be seein’ you both again. Megumi isn’t quitting. And I like you, and I’m not the type of man to give up things I like.”

“Tough shit,” you laugh lightly. “You’re gonna have to find another poor woman to pester. I’ve got enough going on without dealing with a loser like you.”

“A loser? Really?” he chortles. “You were moaning on my dick and calling me daddy earlier. Now I’m a loser?”

“Shut up.”

He leans in close to you, noses almost touching and his smile widens further as he sees how glittery your face is from your poor makeup removal. “Are you only going to be nice to me when I fuck that brat out of you?”

You turn your head away, your heart racing as your body betrays you. The want and desire bubbles in the pit of your stomach. But you can’t. You know you can’t; because you promised.

He isn’t special.

Sukuna is not special.

“You’re not fucking anything out of me.” you tell him, peering out of the corner of your eye to see him look a little surprised at your declaration. He thought you were playing hard to get. You aren’t playing. “It was a one-time thing.”

“Really?” he asks, barely missing a beat as he responds. “I don’t understand you. I thought—”

“Of course you don’t understand me. You’ve known me for a few hours. Just because we’ve fucked doesn’t mean you know me.” you remind him. And he nods, he agrees with you. He’d be a fool not to, and the man is no fool. “It was just a heat of the moment mistake. I mean it. I don’t want to see you again and I’m not letting Megumi fight anymore.”

“Why?”

“Why?” you scoff. “He’s a child. It’s dangerous. I don’t want him—”

“No, sweetheart. I’m not stupid, I know why you don’t want him to fight anymore. Do I look like a moron to you?” he asks, voice gruff and harsh as he interrupts without a care. His temper is visible and rising as he begins to run out of patience for your attitude with him. “Why don’t you want to see me?”

“Because you’re shady and I don’t want to upset my brother. He’s already upset, I don’t want to make it worse.”

“That’s not a reason.”

“Excuse m—”

“That’s a reason why Megumi doesn’t want you to see me. Yeah I’m a little shady, but you like me. I know you do. Otherwise you wouldn’t have let me come over here, see where and how you live, and tend my wounds like a good girl.” he sneers.

“Fine. I don’t like you and I don’t want to have a platonic relationship with a criminal. Let alone a romantic one. What happened earlier was a mistake.”

“… You’re lying.” he says, and it’s curt. You cross your arms over your chest and shake your head with an amused laugh as you digest his denial. How he can sit there and act so full of himself when you’re being perfectly clear is beyond you. It’s jarring.

You jolt as you feel thick fingers lightly grip your jaw. Your wandering gaze is now brought to him. Your eyes forced to fixate on the placid expression plastered across chiselled features.

“I see you, princess. You don’t wanna see me because you want to get mixed up with a criminal, and you’re scared of that. I see you.”

You stare at him, licking your lips not so discreetly as he continues to cradle your jaw. His lips curl at the sight of the little pink muscle slipping between your lips to wet them. You’re angry. Furious at yourself for letting him touch you, hold you, like this. And you hate yourself, right now. Maybe even more than you hate him, too.

Because he’s right.

Your lack of action gives him cause to stare down at your shimmering lips, it’s a warning. A silent announcement for what he’s about to do. He doesn’t let go, but his head tilts. He leans in closer to you, daring to give you what you both know you want.

And again, he’s thwarted.

You turn away, unable to look at him right after this time.

“… You should go, now.” you tell him.

He sighs, but pulls away. You almost mewl as his thumb softly swipes across your chin. And when he withdraws it, you feel your body fill with loneliness. Your skin feels colder.

And it hurts, because he’s on the right track. You’re pushing him away because of Megumi. But deep down, as much as you crave him right now, you know it’s the right thing to do. You jolt a little as he abruptly stands up from the couch, the breeze from his movement makes you freeze.

He sees it.

“Go to bed, you’ll warm up.” he says bluntly before making his way towards the front door. He stops as he grabs the handle, holding up his bloodied knuckles. “Thank you, for the first aid.”

“It’s… it’s fine. No problem. Goodnight, S-Sukuna.” you say, cursing yourself for the audible whine in your words despite your attempted conviction. You watch him as he grabs the handle before turning to face you again.

“Come with me.” he tells you, curling the tip of his index finger. “I need to give you something, don’t argue. For once.” he demands.

You’re compelled to follow, in spite of his demeaning way of summoning you. You truly don’t want him to leave, you don’t want him to go, so any extra time you can spend with him, you’ll take.

He walks ahead of you, leaving you shivering in the doorway as you try and preserve any warmth you can. He opens the door to his car and turns around, a little bewildered that you aren’t right behind him. It makes you giggle to see him look around in search of you before he finally spots you still at the front door.

“Come here.”

You close the door and rush to his side, quickly looking back to make sure Megumi isn’t looking for you. He rests his arm atop the roof of his Mercedes, before holding out a small piece of paper between his fingers to you.

It’s a business card.

“What kind of thug needs a business card?” you ask before you even think about what you’re saying. He scoffs, squinting at you.

“You’ve only fucked me once, you don’t know me.” he smirks. And at that, you can’t help but laugh. “What you said… makes it seem like we’ll learn more about each other if we keep fucking.”

“I don’t want to know you, Sukuna.” you sigh, reluctant to keep up the charade. Reluctant to keep pretending he doesn’t excite you. To keep pretending the few hours you’ve spent with him haven’t been the liveliest your life has been in years. Maybe ever, really. “I can’t be selfish, you don’t get it.”

“You’d be surprised.” he says, abruptly. “Why did you follow me out here if you don’t want to know me?”

“Because you asked me to, you said you wanted to give me something…”

“You could have said no. Do you always do what people tell you? You wanted to. I wanted you to. And now you’re here, you have my number. If you want to be selfish… you know where I am.”

“I don’t—” you sigh, shivering aggressively before you push his card back into his chest. “I don’t need this.”

He grabs your wrist hellbent on sending you away with this one little piece of the puzzle of his life. A way to talk to him again if you change your mind. He’s giving you access, he wants you to take it, desperately.

He crouches down, levelling his head with your own so his one, uncovered eye is levelled with yours. He can’t help but smile, it’s almost maniacal, as he watches your resolve falter under his glare.

“You’re too stubborn for your own good, kid.” he grins. “And you’re not all that smart, for a doctor.”

Your face burns with heat. And you can’t tell if it’s rage or lust. Do you want to kiss him or kill him? You don’t know, you don’t know. His smile grows wider as he realises what he’s done to you. Your faces are so close to each other and this time you can’t will yourself to turn away. You can’t submit, not after this.

“I’m smarter than you.” is all you can think to say. It feels pathetic and phoned in. And he reads it, too, by the ever-growing look of amusement on his face.

“I don’t doubt that.” he nods. “What’s got you all hot ‘n bothered, hm? ‘Cause I called you a dumb li’l doctor? Or ‘cause daddy, called you kid?”

You feel your face sear further. So much so you can even detect each and every drop of sweat beading at your hairline. You’d forgotten it was freezing outside, instead trying to find a way to subtly cool yourself.

“You d-didn’t even call me dumb. I’m not.” you say, stuttering over yourself like a true idiot as you try and gain some semblance of composure through this agonising conversation.

He closes the already small distance between you, placing his hand on the small of your back and pulling you towards him. Your eyes flutter closed under his as he examines you. His head tilting and turning, forcing himself in your line of view.

“I am learning more about you. Should we fuck about it, sweetheart?”

“What are you—”

“Do I remind you of your old man, hah? I bet that’s it… was daddy never proud of you?” he chuckles darkly, carding his fingers through your hair as he stares down at you. “S’that why you like me, darlin?”

“Shut up.” you respond, voice meek and pathetic as you wrestle with your will and want. His fingers lace through your hair, delicately holding the crown of your head before you find yourself being pulled closer still. His lips ghost yours, and he’s a tease. He’s such a fucking tease.

“Got a thing for older guys who talk to you like shit… I see it. Get too much respect at your little doctor job all day. Do you like being talked down to, hm? No wonder you like a thug like me.”

“You don’t know what you’re— You d-don’t even know.”

“Yeah? I don’t?” he asks, his tone melodious and teasing. His head tilts back, the feel of his lips intensely teasing yours soon broken as he does. But you look up to him, eyes full of anguish and sorrow like a kicked puppy who doesn’t know what it wants. You hate him and the reason is clear.

You don’t hate him at all.

You just hate that he’s right.

“I think I’m right. I think you’ve got daddy issues, and you like it when I call you kid.” you turn away as he speaks. But almost as quickly as you do, he’s forcing you to look at him again. His ruby eye flaring, an expression all of its own. A warning, a look of command. A look of lust. “Am I right, baby? Is your little cunt soaked ‘cause I call you kid?”

“… I have to go.” you say, quietly.

“Sure.” he smirks.

A sense of déjà vu overwhelms you as you recognise in his smile that you’ve done this dance before. You can’t move and you can’t speak. There is no desire in you to leave him now and return to your home, your bed, like you should.

All you can do is stare. Your eyes fixated on the man who has just read you like a book. His amused expression doesn’t falter. He’s patient, surprisingly. You wouldn’t have painted him as a man with patience. But looking at him now, you know he’d be willing to wait all night if he had to. He’d wait for the sun to rise just to prove a point.

But he doesn’t need to.

You lunge forward, your hand cupping his face as you break the boiling tension between you and seal your acceptance with a scalding kiss.

He won.

He told you before, he doesn’t lose.

Your lips suctioning and pecking at his would make you embarrassed if you weren’t so desperate. He welcomes it, too, meeting yours with just as much urgency. He wraps his arms around your back as you slip your tongue between his lips, allowing them to tangle and swirl in a passionate encounter.

He chuckles into it as you curse. Curse him, curse his name. You can’t believe he’s reduced you to this, again. Your heart heaves in your chest, and you break away just to instruct him.

“Open the fucking back door.”

He laughs again, keeping hold of you as he guides you in a way he can carry on kissing you and still do as he’s told. He ducks in first, pulling you in with him right after. You grind your hips against his heavy bulge as he closes the door after you. He looks up to admire you, to adore you.

“You smeared your makeup like a fucking idiot so I wouldn’t fuck you,” he laughs. “And look at you, humping my cock like a desperate little pet.”

“Shiiiit, I forgot I’m a mess.” you sigh, though you don’t really care. You wrap your arms around his neck, keening as his heavy palms grip your thighs press you flush against his body. “This is the last time. I m-mean it.”

“Whatever you say, princess.” he says, smugly.

You dismiss it, too enamoured by the feeling of his bulge alone as you continue to grind down hard and purposefully onto him. He’s relaxed, allowing you to take the lead and go at your own pace.

It’s embarrassing, really, you’re not as experienced as he seems to be. He’s older. And you hate to admit it, wiser. When it comes to encounters such as this, anyway. You’re smart and well read, sure, but casual hook ups are foreign to you.

You’ll keep that to yourself for as long as you can, you can’t think of anything worse than giving Sukuna that little tidbit of information about you. That he is only the third guy you’ve fucked.

He hit the nail on the head back at the club, but you can’t let him know that.

“Let me feel.” he mutters. His hand holds your hip to keep you in place. Another snakes down into your sleep shorts, his mouth falls open with an amused chuckle as he touches you. “Still full’a me, baby. Bet I’ll slide right in.”

His fingers play with your pussy without any real goal. And still, it makes you delirious. He smears the evidence of your previous tryst around your folds, and he watches with conviction as his fingers circle your clit.

He withdraws them, briefly, to move your shorts into the crease of your thigh. You watch him, and he doesn’t take his eye off you, either. Your lower lip droops as you admire him. Truthfully, you’ve never been in the presence of someone so domineering as him. He is the true definition of a red-blooded male.

Sukuna is huge. In the literal sense, he is unnaturally tall. His build is enormous, his hand is larger than your face. But his aura alone is enough to fill an entire room with an ambience that he sees fit. He could instil fear into the minds of men just because he wills it.

Unfortunately for you, you are not immune to his will.

“You’re so pent up darlin’, you must work hard. Y’need to relax… no wonder you can’t keep your hands off me.” he says. It could be read as demeaning. You think it should be. And yet, you don’t detect any malice from him. He makes a show of spitting on his fingers, keeping eye contact with you as the ‘ptuh’ sound leaves his lips. It makes you shudder.

Though when he touches you with such purpose, so lewdly, a whine you never knew you could make leaves your lungs. He looks up at you like you hung every star in the sky as he pumps his fingers in and out of you. The ‘shlick’ suctioning sounds of your already tainted walls couldn’t possibly be any louder.

He sees how embarrassed you are, but he doesn’t care. Your nose crinkles and your eyes close softly. He curls his fingers and his palm flattens against your clit. And you cry out for him, lurching forward as you wrap your arms around his head rather than his neck. He’s surprised to see your hips rock against his touches, riding his fingers like it’s the only contact you’ve ever known.

His free hand reaches up to tug down your vest. His tongue is flat and wide as he sticks it out to lick your bare tits. He isn’t rough, he isn’t aggressive, he isn’t rushing. He sensually swirls his tongue over your nipples, breathing heavily on occasion before he kisses them. You whimper when he sporadically skims his teeth across them. There’s no bite. No effort. He just wants to hear you cry for him like that. It’s like his teeth are barely there, just enough that you know they are.

“Do you touch yourself?” he mumbles against your skin. You can’t bear to look at him after hearing that. You pretend you didn’t, moaning louder as a diversion. It’s fruitless, and apparently you aren’t a good actress. He yanks your hair and forces you to look at him. His fingers stop, and your body writhes from the loss. “Don’t do that again. Answer me.”

“S-Sukuna…” you fuss. The feeling of your building pleasure being torn away from you is making you stupid. It’s pathetic. And yet, in spite of how humiliating it is, you’re still rolling your hips in a bid to get the feeling back. His expression falters to one you can’t read. You think it’s annoyance, but it’s so detached and expressionless. You yelp as he withdraws his fingers completely, with no time to feel the loss when he grabs your face with his slick-coated hand.

“I want to know if you make your pretty pussy cum after a hard day at work.” he says calmly, a low rumble in his chest as the words roll plainly from his tongue. Your eye contact falters as you notice him pulling at his sweatpants in search of his aching length. “And I want you to show me how you touch her. So go on, answer my question.”

“I… I—” you stumble. You watch him intensely as he frees his throbbing cock. He wraps his fist around himself and lazily strokes. He still glares at your features. While you’re utterly captivated by his cock.

It looks so angry. Too pretty and perfect to be real, you think. But somehow, it is. You think he’d be better suited as a porn star than a criminal with an asset like that. He spends an extra second squeezing his length just below the tip when he strokes himself, it’s like he’s ringing all of the pre out that he can. It dribbles out of his slit, coating his tip the more he summons. It’s beguiling.

You suppose you hadn’t really had a chance to admire him back at the club. It was so heated and hasty. Now, it’s purposeful. You look at his face again when you realise this is what he wants. He wanted you to look at how he touches himself and how gorgeous his cock is. He wants you to see how big he is and how much he aches and throbs when he needs to be buried in a sweet little cunt.

He wants the memory of this to stain your mind.

“I d-don’t.” you confess. “Not much… I’m always tired. Busy.”

“Mhmm… I can tell.” he nods, his voice is somewhat sympathetic. “Come here, princess. Sit on it.”

His hand grips into your hip while he lines himself up with your entrance. You don’t fight him, you don’t hesitate. You let him push you down, you eagerly suck him in. Your eyes roll back as you feel him swell through your walls. Even after taking him earlier, you’d forgotten how monstrous he feels inside. And this time, somehow, he feels bigger.

“Fu-uck,” you gasp as his tip immediately nudges at your sweet spot. You hold his shoulders and hope he’ll assist you. The thought of disappointing him makes you anxious. The idea of him knowing how inexperienced you really are makes you sick.

He throws his head back as your hole swallows him greedily. He looks at you through a heavy-lidded stare, and relief fills you as his hands grab the fat of your ass. You moan pathetically as he spreads them. But his ultimate goal is to bounce you on his cock. You feel weightless in his hands as he helps you. Each steep drop down onto his length makes your throat tight.

He's there.

You feel him there.

“Play with yourself, go on. Rub her f’me.” he says lethargically.

And your face feels like fire. The foreplay was gasoline and his command is a match. And yet, out of fear of him withholding pleasure from you again, you comply. Your hand slithers between your thighs and you do all you can to pretend you’re elsewhere.

You try and pretend you’re in your room, in your bed. What usually gets you going is a mildly heated scene from a movie or TV show. The sexual tension of an almost kiss makes your face flush, though a lot less than it is now. And you think it’s unbearable to witness sexual tension and not see any resolve, so you scamper to find a video online to suit your needs. Something quick and short as you reach into your nightstand to find your favourite toy.

The thought of being caught by your brother makes you sick so you have to be fast with it. The website you ordered it from assured the toy would be whisper quiet. And you can only hope it’s true. You don’t touch yourself, not without aid. And even then, it’s sparse. You haven’t rubbed your clit with your own fingers in years.

Years of being riled up and having a useless boyfriend who didn’t know what he was doing lead you to finishing yourself off each and every time. And you knew, the moment you got a job and your own income, you’d buy yourself a vibrator.

It’s hard to pretend Sukuna isn’t here, though. It’s hard to pretend you’re in your room with Netflix playing quietly enough in the background it can still cover the sound of soft core moaning from your phone while you vibrate yourself to completion.

Because his cock fills your each and every thought. Every sense you possess is dominated by him. The feel of him stretching you out beyond your limit and repeatedly hitting your sweet spot. The sound of the sticky tacking of his length as he slams you up and down on his pulsing member.

Your vision alternates between his gorgeous gaze and the point where your bodies connect again and again. Your pussy gushes slick and the evidence of your prior combined coupling stains your inner thighs and his crotch.

The scent of your sex fills the car and the heat of your sweaty bodies exacerbates it. Your skin is damp, as is his. And it’s overwhelming. He groans into a chuckle as you moan louder and louder for him. If anyone happens to be awake at this ungodly hour, they’ll no doubt hear you. If anyone looks out of the window, they’ll see how the car rocks back and forth. It turns you on further. The tang of sweat and arousal filling the car. It makes you lightheaded.

“I can— fuck— c-can taste you, daddy…” you whine. He urges you to fall forward so he can kiss you. It forces you to take over, moving your hips on your own as you try and maintain your building pleasure. “You’re too big… can feel you in my throat, Sukuna… tastes so good.”

“Dirty fuckin’ girl.” he smirks, kissing you again. “You’re fuckin’ filthy. Not the good girl you pretend to be, hah?”

You nod, agreeing. He’s right, after all. You’re talking in a way you didn’t know you had in you. He takes over again, holding your rear so he can take full control of your body. He guides you repeatedly until your eyes cross from the pleasure. Your walls tighten, and your throat feels hoarse as you cry out for him.

“Squeezin’ me so fuckin’ tight, kid. Don’t be shy. Cum for daddy.” he encourages you.

You cry, at that. Falling forwards to envelop him in your arms as you come undone. He coos, sweetly, kissing your cheeks and licking away your tears. The feeling isn’t lost on you, the feeling of disgust. You’ve never felt happiness or value like you did just now. Realising how right he was about your issues and using them to subdue you.

Your pussy gushes and he moans further, chest roaring as he finally lets his sight drop to see what a pretty mess you’ve made of yourself.

Made of him.

Made for him.

He pushes his thumb into your clit and rubs quickly, further extending your pleasure through it all. You could just about cum again when you feel him shoot another load into you, his warmth filling your womb for the second time today. It makes you feel special. It makes you feel loved.

The very idea of it has you pushing yourself away from him desperately. But he holds you close. His moans are boisterous and uncaring. It’s loud enough to wake the whole neighbourhood, you think. And at the very least, you’re sure Megumi will hear if he doesn’t have his headphones on.

His arms wrap tightly around your waist to keep you in place, his feet planted firmly on the floor of the car as he fucks himself into you. He’s sure to empty every last drop into your cunt, his balls slap against your ass as he ploughs into you furiously.

And when he stops, you freeze. You feel cold. You feel filthy.

He doesn’t discard you or try to kick you out. The opposite, really. He’s still holding you close, lightly peppering your chilled skin with kisses. Eventually stopping to rest his head on your chest. He feels you try to move away, but he only holds you tighter.

So you stop trying to leave. And instead, you run your fingers through his hair. He hums contently, at that. And you feel your heart pound harder, a little smile works its way onto your face.

Maybe he’s not so bad.

That thought alone makes you stop. He looks up at you, his stare soft and gentle as he wonders what made you halt your actions so abruptly. Before he can ask what’s wrong, you move to leave.

“I have to go, I really have to go now.” you say bluntly. He huffs, watching as you scramble to put your clothes back in place, clambering off him in a hurry. He doesn’t say anything in response. He watches as you scramble to open the door. Tears of panic begin to fall as you struggle to open it, you frantically pull and push as you try to get away. He leans over, and with little effort, he opens the door for you.

“Goodbye.” he says, simply.

“G-Goodbye.” you respond, ducking out and briskly walking to your front door.

You take a deep breath when you get there, preparing for the possibility that Megumi is about to greet you and bite your head off. Sukuna doesn’t move. He stays in the back seat and watches you with a sombre expression. With no inclination of what happened to change your mood, he can only assume he stepped out of line.

He doesn’t want to leave just yet. At least not until he knows you’re safely inside.

As you grab the handle of the door and push, your heart sinks.

“No, no, no… d-don’t do this to me now.” you sob, hysterically fiddling and pushing the door. You stupidly think that you just need to try harder and it will open. But no such thing comes to pass. You’ve locked yourself out.

Sukuna sits upright when he realises, watching as you slowly turn to look at him. His hand folds, gesturing for you to come closer. And with no other option, you do. Your phone is inside as well as your car keys. You can’t text Megumi to tell him what you’ve done. And even if you could, he’d only come outside to see that you’ve let him down. Again.

“Silly girl.” he says, looking at you with a weak smile when you finally approach. You duck down to look at him, not willing to get inside with him. “Do you want to come to my place? I’ll bring you back in the morning.” he suggests.

“I’m not fucking—”

“You can stay in a different room.” he answers your obvious assumption with a reasonable response. And still…

“N-No. I don’t want to go to your house.”

“Then I guess we’re sleeping in the car. Come on.” he sighs. He waits until you get in, begrudgingly, and then gets out himself. You watch him as he circles to the trunk of his car, looking ahead at your home as you wait for him to return. And he does, with a large, fur blanket.

“Why do you have this?” you wonder.

“I don’t remember. You better not be complaining, sweetheart. You’re lucky I didn’t fuck off right after I came like I usually do. Especially after that little performance.”

“Performance?!” you yell. You position yourself as far away from him as you can in the confined space, sitting as closely to the door as you can. “You just don’t get it! At all.”

“You’ve made that clear, princess. Don’t worry. I’ll steer clear when you get back inside tomorrow. I’m too old to be playing stupid games with little girls who don’t know what they want.”

You huff, covering your legs with the blanket before folding your arms.

“I told you it was a mistake.” you correct him. “I told you I didn’t want to see you or do that again.”

“Shut up.” he shakes his head. “Just go to sleep and we’ll never have to see each other again. Because that’s what you want, yes?”

You pause before speaking. Images of his delicate expression in your arms haunt you. You’d overreacted because of your own cowardice. Because of a promise you evidently had no intention of keeping. It wasn’t a performance. It was just… fear.

“Yes.” you tell him. Your response is bold and scathing.

He doesn’t react, he merely shrugs, adjusting the blanket over his own legs, too. His arms cross over his chest, and his head rests against the window. You can’t see beyond his eye covering, but you assume his visible eye is closed.

You do the same, hoping you fall asleep sooner rather than later.

You’re wrong, though.

His eye is open wide, looking upwards to the light polluted sky. There are a few stars visible, three. He stares at them, thinking about the events of the evening. He hadn’t expected to end up fucking once tonight let alone twice. But when you walked into his club and tried to give him a piece of your mind, he knew.

He knew he’d have to have you.

And he hadn’t expected to be so lucky so have you again, like this. But he can’t put his finger on why things went so sour. It could be one thing or a number of things. He has ideas. He thinks your less complicated than you seem to think you are. You’re keeping him at arm’s length, and that, he understands.

He’s a stranger, but he doesn’t have to be.

He doesn’t want to be.

But what can he do?

He’ll just stare at the stars until he drifts off to sleep.

Maybe things will be different in the morning.

—

chapter one | m.list | chapter three

#🦋 — luxe writes #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x reader #sukuna smut #sukuna ryomen x reader #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu #jjk x fem!reader #tw blood #tw daddy kink #tw size difference #tw age gap #tw degradation #tw dacryphilia

867 notes · View notes

anticapitalistclown · 1 month ago

Note

hi!

can I request lookism dads having a dangerous or traumatic experience with their wife and kids? if you're not interested it's fine

wishing you the best

I wish you the best too!

Lookism dads experiencing a dangerous situation

Jake, Gun

Jake

Jake loves his wife and two sons, all of you motivated him to be the best pillar for the family, and a good example for his sons Gi-Seok and Gi-Wook.

It was his turn to take care of the kids while you were sleeping, your toddler Gi-Wook didn't give you a chance to sleep this past nights due to a fever, a fever that you also caught.

Jake was stressed, he had to deal with a problem the new generation of Big Deal had, you being sick in bed, having to make dinner for you and the kids, Gi-Seok wanting dad to read him a book and Gi-Wook painting the walls with your makeup, wait, the walls? Jake rushed to Gi-Wook "stop Gi-Wook!" the youngest started to throw a tantrum and spread your makeup everywhere "dad, can we cuddle?" Gi-Seok who also was showing symptoms of a fever tried to get his father's attention yet Gi-Wook crying and the food burning made Gi-Seok invisible for his father.

Gi-Seok sobbed and between the chaos left home, leaving the door open as the only trace. Jake once he had everything controlled grabbed a booktale and searched for Gi-Seok, only finding the entrance door open. Fear invaded him, and he turned desperate. First he rushed to search around home and then the building you were living in without having a single trace of Gi-Seok. You and your husband ran all the streets searching for your son, in the dark of the afternoon you bumped again into Jake and you both realized that none of you could find him.

Realization hit you both, you fell in your husband's arms and started to cry "my baby" Jake hugged you tight and tried to hide his tears "it's too cold and dark for my baby" you sobbed, Jake pressed his hand on his eyes and started to cry "I'll find him no matter what, I promise" a tiny sob you both recognized made you both reach hope, before Gi-Seok could call your names you both rushed to him "my son" Jake sobbed and hugged him, you brushed Gi-Seok's back "my baby you're so cold" you sobbed and Jake took off his jacket to envelop your son "let's get home, I'll read you all the books, I promise".

Gun

If Gun told his younger self that in a future he would come home to a wife and a daughter his youngest self would try to kill him, just thinking about that made him internally laugh.

You and your daughter Sa-Rang, were waiting for your husband to come back home when an estrange knock on the door made you be cautious "Sa-Rang" you called your daughter, go to your bedroom. You approached the door and your daughter started to tiptoe to her bedroom, before you could even see who was the door opened and slammed you on the floor, your daughter screamed, and two male figures entered home.

You did everything you could to protect your daughter fighting like a beast out of pure desperation, your body felt like it could break yet you still continued to chase after the two kidnappers. Gun will be home soon, you prayed, and when the rain hit your body you finally collapsed on the ground, fainting not before signaling with your bloody hand the way the kidnappers ran with your daughter to your husband.

Gun understood what you meant, he placed the umbrella next to you and without a word he rushed to the way you signaled, he rushed to the car and cursed himself when he saw his father reflected on the tinted window, smashing it and throwing the kidnapper outside, not fighting him until knocking out the driver, he looked at the backseat where Sa-Rang was crying and for the first time he realized his first priority was her before fighting. Gun wanted to kill them for hurting you, he wanted to make them beg for their pathetic lives for trying to take her daughter away from you and him, but watching Sa-Rang crying alone, he didn't hesitate and held her into his arms watching the kidnappers run away "dad is here".

Oh Gun will get a bloody revenge

#lookism #jake kim #kim gimyung #park jonggun #park jong gun #park gun #lookism x reader

175 notes · View notes

salty-autistic-writer · 4 days ago

Text

Tommy is sick.

That doesn’t happen often. And especially not like this. This combination of bone-shattering exhaustion and lung-rattling coughing is new. His whole body is shaking, shivering, sweating into the sheets. His nose is dripping without a pause.

It’s disgusting. Tommy is fighting the urge to tell himself to stop being so pathetic and to get up from the bed before someone can discover how weak and useless he is. He knows where that’s coming from.

He can still hear the echo of his father’s voice. Man up. It’s just a sniffle. Real men don’t lay in bed, acting weak. They get up and out there every day. For Tommy’s Dad, everything in life had been some kind of battle that had to be won. And it’s pretty ironic that the last battle he fought - and lost - was the one he brought to himself with his alcoholism: pancreatic cancer.

It was ugly. Tommy didn’t care. There have been enough days when he hoped it did hurt plenty. But now he’s trying to leave all that behind him. He’s also trying to overcome the life “lessons” his father pushed into his head, where they took root and grew like parasites. Because now he knows it’s not pathetic to be sick. And he doesn’t have to do everything alone. He has people who care about him and most importantly, he has a special person who loves him on good and bad days. No matter what. It’s not always been easy to accept that. To let down his guard and let himself be loved like that. Because in his experience, good things don’t stay and his heart’s been growing tired of all the disappointments. The losses. But this is different, Evan is different, and they deserve a chance because it’s foolish to let ghosts of the past haunt the unknown future. Tommy doesn’t want to be his own self-fulfilling prophecy anymore.

Tommy waits for another coughing fit to pass, then texts Evan.

Sorry, I’m sick. Can’t do the double date tonight. Tell Maddie I’m sorry. Can you by any chance get me some groceries? I can’t move.

He doesn’t have to wait long for Evan to answer. With a shocked-face-emoji.

Oh no, I'm so sorry to hear that you're sick, how are you feeling? I’m coming over! And yeah, totally, send me that list. I’m also going to cook some soup for you!

Tommy feels warmer reading the words. But he still texts back:

I feel like a load of bricks fell on me and now I can’t get up, but I don’t want you to get sick too, Evan :/

Of course, Evan doesn’t want to hear it.

Hey, don’t worry about me, I have the immune system of a horse, and even if your pesty bacteria manage to throw bricks at me too, that only means, we can be sick together! :)

Tommy’s chuckle turns into another cough. Evan seems to be so good at finding something positive in every kind of situation. It’s an important part of why Tommy loves him so much.

Okay, he texts and then sends a list of things he needs. After that he feels exhausted and breathless again, so he closes his eyes, trying to take a nap until Evan arrives. The thought makes him smile. It’s nice to not be alone. *

Evan’s eyes widen when Tommy opens.

It took all of Tommy’s strength to put a robe on and drag himself to the door, so now he’s swaying, heaving, trying to pull air through his stuffy red nose and feels so hot. Too hot. He’s glad when Evan puts a steadying hand on his back. “Come on, let’s get you back to horizontal. Jesus. You’re so hot,” Evan says, concern making his voice softer. “Thank you,” Tommy croaks and Evan laughs, shaking his head.

Tommy slumps on the couch and watches through heavy-lidded eyes, as Evan empties the grocery bag on the kitchen counter. He pulls out what Tommy asked for, but also … a whole lot of other stuff. Several bags of flour, salt, sugar, butter, eggs, vanilla.

“I’m going to make you some tea and soup, then bake cookies. I found a recipe that claims to be the best and I want to find out if they’re right,” Evan announces, moving around Tommy’s kitchen with a kind of familiarity that somehow makes Tommy really emotional. There are tears in his eyes and they are not only from all the coughing.

“Thank you,” he breathes, blinking the tears away. Evan looks at him with a surprised smile. “For what?”

“For being here,” Tommy says seriously.

“Of course,” Evan says after a little pause, smiling at him. “Now relax, okay? Maybe take a nap. This will take a little while. And your body needs all the rest it can get.”

“Yeah.” A nap sounds nice. Tommy can already feel his swollen eyes falling shut. He listens to the sounds coming from the kitchen and allows himself to drift off.

A little while later, they are snuggled together on the couch, sharing a blanket. Steaming mugs of tea, bowls with equally steaming chicken soup and a plate of cookies on the table in front of them. A Netflix movie is running, but Tommy doesn’t really know what it’s about. After eating the soup - the hot liquid feeling like a balm for his scratchy throat - and sipping his tea, he keeps dozing off, his head resting on Evan’s shoulder.

He’s sick and everything hurts, but he feels comfortable and loved. So it’s not as bad as it could be.

“How are they?” Evan asks, when Tommy tries a cookie, tilting his head and eagerly waiting for feedback.

Tommy chews, swallows, and then looks at Evan with a sad smile. “Well, the combination of crunch and chewiness is definitely 10/10, but unfortunately, I can’t tell you more than that. Because I can’t taste much right now. Not being able to taste chocolate chip cookies. I think that’s the saddest thing that happened to me today.”

Evan makes a sympathetic noise and cuddles Tommy closer to him, giving him a kiss on his head. “It’s okay. As soon as you feel better, I am going to make them again.”

(A03 Link, Written for @tevanadvent2024, Day 18: Cookies)

#bucktommy #tevan #bucktommy fanfic #tevan fanfic #tevan advent calendar 2024 #bucktommy advent calendar 2024 #evan buckley #tommy kinard

155 notes · View notes

worldclueless · 7 months ago

Text

trying to gather my thoughts and put this as eloquently as possible.

if you haven't caught up, recently jenson button gave an interview in which he gave advice to lewis hamilton about his move to ferrari. unsurprisingly, this spurred some 'discourse' (shudders) about how lewis ex-teammates-turned-pundits (mostly nico and jenson Imao) tend to give weird borderline-psycho analysis about lewis even though it has been quite a significant amount of time since they were teammates and who knows if this analysis is even too applicable to lewis as he has changed A LOT since his tenure with them.

and again, unsurprisingly, this brought out a chunk of the fanbase that can never pass up the opportunity to give a dig at lewis and treat guy's like jenson and nico's words like gospel. one frankly gross post went on and on and on about how unbothered jenson was during his time as lewis's teammate (no he was not) and how much of a paranoid weirdo freak lewis was about being challenged by a teammate (never mind the fact his first teammate was fernando fucking alonso).

and this is a worrying trend i see growing amongst a faction of f1 fans who try and ignore the context of lewis and his place in the sport. lewis is a black man in a predominantly white sport. jenson nor nico, no matter how much people will place them on some babygirl pedestal, will NEVER know what that means or what this is like so whenever i hear them recount their time together as teammates, the context of this is always lost.

in 2011, lewis had split with his dad as his manager and was going through a tumultuous time with his girlfriend, nicole. i don't know about you, but if my personal relationships with the people i cared about were on rocky grounds, that would tend to affect how i interact with people at my workplace. nevermind the fact that it was also magazine gossip fodder. that type of spotlight affects you heavy. especially working in the toxic environment of early 2010s mcclaren.

nowadays, lewis, at best, is professional and cordial with both jenson and nico which is not a problem but for some reason some fans think lewis's attention and time should be spent fawning and talking about these men. they're unable to see him as somebody that is not fanfiction fodder for their white faves and it is generally disturbing the lengths they will go to to justify their lack of empathy, compassion, and consideration of his place as he tries to exist within a space that was resistant to accommodating his identity (2007 barcelona testing anyone?).

and if it wasn't bad enough, these same 'fans' have the cheek to imply that hamilton is psychologically weak for not engaging with these guys beyond a professional level. the same man who was racially abused by grown white adults since the age of 12 is psychologically weak. wow. truly stunning. and these fans always give a half-hearted "yeah of course lewis has gone through some racial trauma but-" but nothing. end of. your what fav and you have no fucking clue as to what racial trauma does to black children and how it seriously impacts them. so don't ever try to erase this impact. you're overstepping: it's not your place.

so if it wasn't clear: lewis hamilton does not owe your white fav anything. if he wants to mind his business while rolling by in his scooter, that's not a problem. you brocedes/slagclaren types that only tolerate him for his proximity to these white men are frankly, racist, and your pathetic attempts to hide behind your racism because lewis isn't as perfect as he tries to be' (yeah no shit) make it such a hostile environment for black fans who can smell your bs from a mile away.

#lewis hamilton #f1 #formula one #formula 1 #genuinely get tired as a black fan of this sport #oh but what’s new🤡#just somebody tired of it all #try as you might but lewis’ identity can’t be ignored when discussing these things #racism in f1 #jenson button #nico rosberg #brocedes #slagclaren

254 notes · View notes

xan-izme · 2 years ago

Text

"Bad Guy" (Dad!jake x Villian Daughter reader)

Summary: Jake didn't just leave you on a rotting planet, he did so much more. He barely showed his fatherly side to you, he was on Marin mode 24/7. The night before he left was what pushed you to the edge, after years of him not returning, was your braking point. He left you, his own daughter and betrayed his own race. If he can do that, what's wrong with leaving behind your own humanity?

TW: Death, mentions of death, child neglect, drinking, manipulation ect.

tag list: @kkkmm @myh3artttt

How far can you push a child's love and loyalty. Till they no longer can tell the difference between the two?

Raising children is known to be a very complicated task. But it was a part of life. Parenting is tricky, anything you do or say will affect your child's behavior.

Jake didn't think like that. You were his first child, a girl at that. Your mother was just a one night stand, but he did know her. She was a friend from before he lost his legs.

When you were born, he was already in a bad spot. So a child being dumbed on him in his situation wasn't the best.

So, when raising you, he tried his best to show you that the planet they were on was cruel, and that you need to fend for yourself sometimes. He might have been harsh with his words, but you had some sort of understanding that it wasn't out of meanness. Jake was strict. Set up curfews, schedule for all classes and hang outs. Knowledge of your whereabouts was a must.

But all of that understanding and balance you two had, was quick to shatter. The night before Jake was to leave for Pandora, he was drinking. Yes, Jake drinks a lot, and you know that.

But his twin brother just passed, for the paper he had in his pocket. Sadly, you came back home 15 minutes late.

So, when you tried to get Jake to bed, he was just complaining about you coming late.

Jake was grumbling something while you were trying to clean up the bottles that were laying around.

He complained about the military, about his parents, the people and his twin.

"And you, Y/n"

You stood in place, watching your father point at you, bottle of alcohol in hand. "You killed your mother . . . and now, you're killing me."

Those words hit you like nothing before.

Jake threw the bottle towards you, it missed, but you wish it did hit you and just killed you.

The next morning, you locked yourself in your room. You refused to open the door. No matter how many times' Jake apologized, no matter how hard he begged.

His words of promises to come back and make it up to you, were probably the only thing that made you feel some type of sympathy. And hey, if he did come back, the two of you might have had a decent father and daughter relationship.

You just had to wait for 6 years or so.

Then 6 years turned into 8. 8 years turned into a decade. Then you got word of what Jake had done.

Betrayed his own race, fell in love with a native and started a whole new family. And on top of that! he got legs! isn't that lovely, good for him. And all Jake had to do was leave his pathetic, no-good daughter on a rotting planet to get the life of his dreams.

The amount of anger you felt could not be explained. Wanting to take revenge, wanting your old man to feel unexplainable pain you had been suffering. You applied for a spot in the RDA. Specifically, in the Daja blue group.

It took a lot of training and strings pulled for you to get in that program. But you got in, and once you showed your skills, you were immediately welcomed in.

"Ms. Sully-"

You held back the urge to give the operator a look, not liking being called but his name. But his name is a part of your plan. You want people to know that you're his, that you came from the same Jake Sully.

"Your Avitar is ready."

You hummed and followed the woman. You two passed many other avatars. Then finally came to a stop at one that oddly looked like you. You stared down at the young body.

You were currently in your mid 20's, but avatars are made to be way younger than you currently were. This one looks about 18 or 19. You didn't mind. As long as the body was capable of handling her plan for Jake.

You must say, Pandora was more beautiful than you expected. Such beauty shouldn't have been wasted on Jake. You honestly didn't care for Quaritche's reasons or his mission in general, all you wanted was to install fear and dread into Jake.

Thankfully, Quaritche seemed to not mind what your little mission was. The only thing you two had in common, was to put Jake down. Break him in unimaginable ways.

"Your one of his" Quaritche mumbled. But you heard what he said. Your ears perked as you slowly made your way to the small Na'vi boy. Now seeing by his fingers and looking closely at his face, he held a close resemblance to Jake, that caused you to stare rather hard.

You kneeled down and looked your half-brother in the eyes. You then heard a voice, a voice that you could never forget. You grabbed the innercom that was still connected to the boy's neck and tossed it to Quaritche. As the older man spoke to Jake, you grabbed your half-brothers face, examining it.

The boy growls and roughly moved his face out of your hand.

"Let us go you demons!" The boy hissed in his native tongue. You scoffed in amusement and took hold of his hand, roughly putting it in front of his face, then put your hand against his. Matching all five fingers.

"We are more similar than you think boy." Your words shocked the boy. Leaving him silent and confused.

You turned to go back to your original position, giving a glance to Jake's daughters. You glared at the smallest one.

When Jake brought the fight to them. Quaritche let you have a little time alone with Jake.

Your tail swished from side to side before pouching on Jake. Your fighting style was sloppy, but in a way that was nearly always unpredictable. Almost like you were some kind of; savage.

Jake threw you off him, causing you to land on all fours against a nearby tree. You hissed as you stood up slowly, your tail flickering side to side, your eyes had never left him.

"So mean papa. That really hurt" You licked the blood from your lips as you gave the man a toothy grin.

Jake frowns, that voice, was for some reason familiar to him. His eyes squinted as the figure stepped closer into the moonlight. Once you were in the light, it took him a second, but even in Na'vi form. He recognizes his own daughter.

"Y/n . . . ?"

Jake dropped his weapons as he slowly approached you.

"Y/n, my baby! how-" His hands hovered over your skin, before you stepped away.

The two of you stared at each other, in compleate silence. Suddenly, the sound of a helecopter came. You sighed

"Oh well, guess our time is up." You say in a disappointing tone, you turned to walk off and get back to the group.

"Next time, I won't go easy on ya!" You say with a playful tone, but the noticeable sadistic look you had said otherwise.

Chaos unlashed itself upon the Sully family. The children of Jake demanding to know more about the Avitar woman who claimed to also be a Sully. That night, Jake and Neytiri had to explain that Jake had a daughter back on earth, and the moment he betrayed his own race, he lost privileges of trying to bring his daughter to Pandora or at least try and contact her.

Jake thought about you every day, every second. Every time he treated his sons like soldiers, he was reminded of you, and what he had said that fitful night.

Lo'ak laid awake that night. Your words spinning in his mind. That small talk of how his father truly was. How Jake treated her worse than he was with them now. Lo'ak can barely tolerate how their father is now, so just thinking about how strict or harsh he was with you. He understood you were probably hurt, but he thought of some way to make you see what Lo'ak saw when Jake spoke about you. How much love he had with each word for you, speaking about you like he would for any of his children.

When Jake first saw you again, it was like a dream come true, but now, he feels like he sees you everywhere. You're becoming a nightmare for him, all because of that first interaction you two had, if you knew of this, you would be laughing at how pathetic Jake was to easily be this way.

Even though Neytiri saw you as a traitor and a threat to her family, Jake still saw you as his little girl. His sweet baby girl that he left. The little girl he had the nerve to treat like a soldier. Guess this was Jake's harsh reminder that he was raising a daughter back then.

The Jake now can never imagine treating Kiri and Tuk the way he did with you, it hurts him.

You didn't want to hurt anyone but Jake. That doesn't mean you care for the life around you, no, if killing the ones Jake loved the most would drive Jake to the breaking point like you wished? you would have done that long ago.

You kneeled down to Lo'ak and made sure he was tied properly.

"Why are you doing this! aren't you, our sister??" Lo'ak was trying to reason with you. Trying to make you see what you were doing was wrong. You sighed and gave him a small smile while caressing his head.

"Oh, sweet little brother. You are too young to understand."

"I wan't daddy . . ." Tuk mumbled out a small whine. You shifted your eyes to her.

You stepped back and examined the two. "you two think our father is such a hero. A noble man who loves his family more than anything. But your wrong, the moment you slip up, he turns on you. . . . Did you know what he said to me before he left?"

Lo'ak and Tuk stayed silent as they kept their eyes on you.

"He said that all I had to do was wait for 6 years, then he'll be back, and make up for what he had done to me. Then 6 years turn into 8, then it turned into a decade. . . . It took 10 years for me to realize I didn't need him. And that he didn't want me." You never told your small sob story to anyone, and you surprisingly didn't feel that shitty about what your life had become.

"Your wrong."

Lo'aks words brought you back. You tilt your head a little.

"Oh?"

"Dad loves you! He told us what happened and he's sorry. He regrets everything and all he wants is you to be with him again! h-he loves you and always did." You hum in amusement

"He loves me . . . . How interesting."

Your plan just changed, and in the best way possible.

Jake didn't mean too. He didn't mean to shout at you that night, he didn't mean to leave you behind like he did, he didn't mean to turn you into what you had become now.

You coughed up blood, holding your stomach tight, where the stab wound was.

And most of all, he didn't mean for this to happen. Not to you . . . not by him of all people

"Y/n- I didn't . . . please come with me. Your hurt!" Jake pleaded. You stumbled back and hit the metal wall. You laughed as you slid down to the ground. You slowly looked up to Jake with teary eyes.

It really hurts. The burning pain was like nothing you felt before.

Jake rushed to your side and tried to lift you up. You stopped him and gripped his shoulder. "Hey, you love me . . . yeah?"

Jake didn't hesitate to answer "Yes! I love you. I love you so much." Jake held back a sob as he moved strands of hair away from your face. You sighed and slowly looked back up to him.

"Then, if you truly love me. You should take responsibility for this." Jake's ears slicked back.

"W-what?"

Your eyes were stone cold. Void of any emotion.

"Finish what you started--" You grabbed onto Jake's hand, the one he still had his blade in. Your blood stained with the sharp object.

"-- And if you truly loved me, you'd end it for me already."

Jake shook his head "no, I can still save you! you still have time-"

You cut Jake off "Look, Jake. My time is up. No use for pity now." You were rather done at this point. Just wanting it to be over with.

Jake took a long moment. But it happened. You held eye contact with your father as he stuck the blade in you once more, finishing you off. His salty tears mixing with the blood on your face.

Jake Sully lost his daughter that day. By killing her with his own hands.

So, in short, remember parents that children can be quite fragile in their early stages of life.

They can and will remember everything.

#avatar #kiri avatar #jake sully x daughter reader #avatar jake #neytiri #lo'ak x sister!reader #lo'ak sully #neteyam sully #tuk sully #mental health #avatar twow #avatar x sully!reader #avatar x reader

1K notes · View notes

shadesoflsk · 1 year ago

Text

OLDER LEON HEADCANONS

pairing: older!Leon x gn!reader.

warnings: age gap implied, fluff, no explicit nsfw, basically Leon being an old man.

After retiring, you thought Leon would use his free time to sleep more. After all, he has served the country for more than twenty years. But you always find yourself on an empty bed with no signs of your partner being in the room.

Leon religiously wakes up at 6 o’clock. No matter if it is a rainy Sunday morning. He says he wants to see the news, but he falls asleep pathetically fast as soon as he hits the couch. Sometimes, holding a mug that has been replaced several times. Old man can’t understand that if he falls asleep, all of his body does too. No… you’re not the one who is spilling coffee all over the rug. Why the hell would you do that?

Talking about mugs, he has an obsession with them. Since most of his own “magically” break, he has a whole ass collection. “Best dad ever,” says one. He has no child but he thinks it’s funny as hell. It isn’t, you tell him. “You don’t get me”, he responds back with a roll of his eyes and a grunt as he sits down.

You may have lied about something. You’re guilty for breaking one of his beloved mugs. However, it wasn't your fault. You were in charge of doing the dishes that day, Leon was comfortably laying on the couch, playing candy crush at full volume. He wasn’t deaf… not at all yet it seems that hearing “tasty” every time he swipes on a candy is fucking hilarious. What your poor heart didn’t expect was Leon sneezing so hard that God may have heard him. Your heart dropped, and so did his beloved mug. Shattering in pieces as soon as it hit the floor.

He doesn't mind your youthful behavior. The generational differences didn’t seem so big when you two were in love. You love going out, drinking and dancing. He does too, he swears. But for him, nothing is better than a little trip to the supermarket.

He loves comparing prices. Why the hell has the jar of pickles’ price risen? “No babe you don’t understand, it shouldn't be so expensive.” He tries reasoning with you with no avail since you get the damn jar and place it in the basket. That same jar of pickles would be the cause of one embarrassing moment with Leon.

Leon takes pride in his humor. He’s funny, he’s hilarious, and he deserves a spot on stand-up comedy night. Or at least he thinks so. You were at the cashier as the employee did his job. His actions, though, were interrupted when the code from the product couldn’t be scanned. “Please Lord… don’t make him say it.” You think to yourself as Leon watches the scene developing. Time seems to slow down as you see his lips moving. “Must be free then.” He laughs as if it was the funniest thing he ever said.

Leon was a provider, economically and intimately speaking. He loves surprising you, especially when you are busy with something else. Are you doing laundry? No, that can’t be. You were unexpectedly attacked with wet kisses on your neck, his breath caressing you from behind as he whispered sweet nothings against your ear. Years made him a needy man but God he loves your scent. As his hands were holding your waist, you decided to turn around and kiss him better. When you did, your eyes traveled from his blue orbs, to his lips, to the moles adorning his neck and throat, to his broad chest, to his waist, to his… Why the hell is he wearing crocs with socks? You didn’t expect to be turned off almost immediately.

You often find yourself looking for Leon in your apartment. Sometimes you would find him watching TV or playing with you guys’ dog. “Have you seen your dad?” You pet the golden retriever on its back. It obviously doesn’t respond back, but by the way its eyes are glued to the door that leads to the garden, you assume Leon has to be there.

Eventually, you found him there. You have to hold back a giggle as you observe him with the classical dad stance. Hands glued to his hips as he watches the sky. “Is God trying to send you a message?” You lean against the door frame with a teasing look on your face. “No, but I know for a fact that it’s going to rain.” Leon quietly replied as his eyes remained focused on the now cloudy sky.

Texting Leon was… something else. Don’t misunderstand him, he worships the ground you walk on but texting him was like talking to a wall. You could be in a life or death situation and Leon’s answer would be a thumbs up. Or when he’s finally typing something? It’s all in caps.

“DARLING I'M AT THE STORE DO YOU NEED ANYTHING?” Why is he yelling? What point is he trying to make?

“OK BABE CALL ME IF ANYTHING HAPPENS.” He continues yelling.

“LOVE YOU.”

“😃👍” Those emojis…

He has a buddy. He has many buddies. He loves helping, or rather he loves watching someone else struggling. Not in a bad way, really. His life as an agent made him dependent on the feeling of being useful. One day, someone’s car broke down right in front of your home. He took this opportunity to be the good citizen that he is. “My buddy Chris would surely know what to do…” Leon mumbles after thirty minutes of trying to help this poor man with his car.

Overall, you love this old man of yours. He’s the sweetest partner you’ve ever had. You can always lean on him whenever you need someone to take care of all of your problems. He loves you and definitely loves showing you off as the romantic partner he is. Dates are a must every weekend, dressing all pretty and fancy to eat some dinner at a place which name you don’t remember. However… you could never escape his dad’s jokes.

“What’s the damage?” he asks the waiter as he pulls out his wallet. God you love him.

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy drabble #leon kennedy headcanons #leon kennedy fluff #resident evil

590 notes · View notes

henrioo · 7 months ago

Text

°•*⁀➷ THE BIG CROCO BROTHER: CROCODILE

꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ : "Being a father was not easy, imposing limits was necessary and no matter how cute his face was, that of the Crocodile's only son, he couldn't allow you to do whatever you wanted... Especially when you're running around with three deadly wild animals."

꒰ WARNINGS ꒱ : PLATONIC RELATIONSHIP! NON ROMANCE, Father and Son! Male reader! Child reader! Soft dad Crocodile! Cross guild! Savage animals (bananawani), the reader has a powerful man in his control (his own dad)

꒰ WC ꒱ : 1k

꒰ NOTES ꒱ : And here I'm again, trying to post again and idk, nothing much to say today, my mood is horrible and my life sucks, but here some family fluffy to see if that motivates me to write again. Also the names of the wani are terrible because my discord friends choose them lol hahahah blank/no pronouns/fem=block

Crocodile was listening to Mihawk talking about the latest news he had gotten on his last trip, Buggy was looking at some maps that his henchmen had given him and the lizard himself was looking at the management papers of that entire alliance. At least now it was working a little better and giving more profit than headaches, but Crocodile still refused to accept that a circus really had so many needs and needed such a big budget just for those pathetic shows... that clown was probably deceiving.

“FUCK!” Buggy shouted, making the dark-haired man snap out of his reverie and try to figure out what the shouting was about.

It was then that he saw a peculiar scene that had curiously been repeated a lot in the last few days. One of the baby bananawani was biting Buggy's leg, another seemed to be eager to eat the clown's colorful papers and the third and last was trying... no, he was begging for a lap to the strongest swordsman in the world who simply stared at him without reaction.

You see, being a parent is extremely difficult. Being a father and being a pirate with a young son and with Crocodile's current situation is even more so, he wouldn't want that to be the case but he really managed to be quite absent, he tried to make up for it by spoiling you and the problem was that he spoiled you a bit too much. You weren't a bad or rude child, but you simply faithfully believed that you could have the world at your feet if you asked your father nicely. Of course you could, but it wasn't good for your ego to be completely sure of it.

So, in a way of trying to teach you some good values like responsibility and any other nonsense, he left you in charge of taking care of three bananawani babies. You needed to feed them, take them out of the water tank, clean the tank, all the normal activities of a normal pet. With the difference that your pets were deadly creatures even as babies and were more than ready to rip off some arms for your protection.

“(Y/n), what did we talk about getting them out of the tank?” Crocodile sighed, this wasn't the first time the babies had wandered around the ship instead of being safe in their water tanks. He can still hear the cries of the henchmen who received unexpected bites because their pets were out of control.

“I’m sorry daddy” you said entering the room, you quickly went to the baby in Mihawk and picked him up. Not completely up since that single bananawani baby must have been heavier than you, so you just held him the best you could with his entire lower part dragging on the floor.

Buggy whimpered trying to pull the baby off his leg which only made him bite harder, causing the clown to scream again. Crocodile sighed and got up to help you deal with the mess.

“They’re still too young to wander around alone, they’ll just create trouble” he tried to convince you again.

“But... Miss Banana Split was sad” you said worriedly as you looked at the lizard in your arms who was smiling happily like a baby in his parents arms. Crocodile could feel Mihawk's eyes on him from the animal's name but he decided to ignore it.

“They are sweet animals, they don’t get sad” he tried to convince you, ruffling your hair.

“Of course they stay! Mr. Banana even whines!” You said with a huge hurt pout, heavens you really loved those animals...

“Look at feelings, I don’t know, but this pest is really hungry and is about to swallow my leg, so if you can have a father-son moment another time, I’d appreciate it!” Buggy screamed desperately, shaking his leg again, trying to free the animal, but in vain.

“Sorry, Mr. Buggy… Drake is eating too much these days…” you said, releasing the one in your arms and going to take the other one off the clown’s leg. Luckily the animal was happy to be picked up by you and easily released its prey.

“Drake?” Buffy looked at you perplexed, was that the fucking name you chose?

“Don’t you dare” Crocodile growled at him as if he could read his thoughts. It was a clear message, make my son ashamed of the names he chose and you will become real bananawani food.

“They like being close to you daddy” you said petting Drake who was rubbing against you, the other two cubs at Crocodile’s feet.

“Of course they do, I was there when they were born, that doesn't mean you can let them loose like that” he crouched down to your height “They're still cubs and without training, you won't find it fun if they actually eat someone's leg would you?” Crocodile would find it hilarious, but you were a good-hearted child so you just shook your head “See? So for now let’s keep them in the tank and teach them some tricks, if they can behave you can spend more time with them, okay?”

"Okay!" You smiled happily at the possibility of continuing the walk with your animals, without waiting any longer you picked up Drake and dragged him out of the room, followed by the other two animals.

Crocodile sighed, satisfied that you would obey him for now, at least this way he would stop hearing the clown crying.

“Drake? Seriously? What the fuck is that name? For a bananawani!” Buffy said shocked once you were far enough away, he wasn't even paying attention to the ruined maps.

“Shut up…” your father would also love to know where you got that name from but that was an answer that not even you had.

“I actually found Miss Banana Split quite charming” Mihawk said with a cocky grin at Crocodile who just snorted, getting annoyed. He didn't mind having a son as his weakness, but having that weakness exposed and made fun of was something he hadn't gotten used to yet.

“Go back to work” he said irritably, just wanting to pretend that none of that had happened.

155 notes · View notes

forever-rogue · 1 year ago

Note

Okay but imagine when (nurse!steve) reader gives birth and literally all of the nurses are so excited because todays the day!!!!

It's a long and painful labour but once the baby girl's here and checked over and the two of you have spent some time bonding with her - reader rolls her eyes and says "go on, go show her off" and steve whispers that they'll be right back and he cradles baby against his chest, carrying her out to his ward with hot tears rolling down his cheeks.

Literally all of the nurses gush over her and it distrupts the entire hospital, everyone wanting to get a glimps of Baby Harrington. Steve cries the whole time and just can't believe how lucky he is.

AN | Nurse Steve finally getting to meet his baby girl and getting to show her off! What a dream, I am so soft 🥺

Warnings | Mild Language, Nondescript mentions of labor/delivery

Pairing | Nurse!Steve x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 2.4k

Masterlist | Steve, Main, Nurse Steve

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Steve thought he’d prepared for this moment. Really, he’d done a lot of reading, research, and mental preparation. He’d been in on several emergency births and c-sections, and was sure he had seen it all.

But it all was so incredibly different when it was his wife in labor, when it was his baby girl being born.

It was like everything in his mind had flown out the window and he was learning everything for the first time. All he could do now was to hope he was being a good and supportive husband.

“You are never touching me again.”

Okay, maybe he could do a better job. Or maybe it was the fact that you’d been in labor for several hours and seemed to be in a lot of pain and stress. Understandably, of course.

“You’re doing so well, angel,” he was sitting at your side and holding your hand, wishing there was something he could, “you’re almost there - she’s almost here.”

“Steven,” you turned your head to look at him, a pathetic little expression, “I don’t want to do this - I can’t do this. I’m not ready for her.”

“You can do this,” he insisted softly, “I have no doubt about that.”

“I can’t be a mom,” you ran a hand over your tired face, grimacing as another contraction came on, “I’m scared.”

“I know it’s scary,” he cooed as he touched your face, gently stroking your cheek, “and we’ll fuck it up along the way but that’s okay. None of that matter because we’ll always try and there will always be love.”

“Do you think she’ll like us?”

“She’ll love us,” he assured you as you smiled softly, “you’re going to be the best mom.”

“And you’re already the best dad,” you squeezed his hand particularly harshly and he tried to keep his expression neutral, “Stevie, I-”

“Alright,” you found the doctor looking at you with excited eyes, “time to start pushing!”

“Stevie?”

“You’ve got this, angel,” maybe he was right…maybe you could do this, “it’ll all be over soon.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

And….that turned out to be a lie. Not by choice, but circumstances. Life happens.

Once you started pushing, you had a nagging feeling in your gut. And yeah, it was several hours and a lot of pushing and tears and pain later before you finally got to meet your baby girl.

But as soon as you laid your eyes on her, it was all worth it. All the months of morning sickness, back pain, heartburn, shortness of breath, and lack of sleep were worth it. You fell in love all over again as soon as you got to hold the little blob of a grumpy looking potato that was placed in your arms. All things considered, she was pretty damn cute in your little pink hat and blanket.

“Look at her,” you were exhausted and wanted to do nothing more than to try and get a few hours of sleep. You knew that your sleep schedule wasn’t going to be consistent anymore, not for some time anyway, “we made her. She’s all ours.”

“Our Camila,” his eyes were puffy and red-rimmed and he looked just as exhausted as you. He’d been a wreck since he realized you were in labor and as soon as he’d laid eyes on her he was a goner. He reached over and gently touched her chubby, splotchy little cheek, “she’s perfect.”

“She is,” you leaned into Steve’s touch when you felt him wipe away your tears, “I hope that she knows we’ll always love and try to do right by her.”

“She will, she’s going to be so spoiled with love,” you couldn’t even imagine all the excitement that was going to overwhelm once she was at home. You knew that everyone was waiting to meet her. Steve, naturally, had called everyone (you swore it could have been everyone he’d ever met) once you got to the hospital. And of course, his coworkers and half the hospital were eagerly waiting for the good news and to see the new addition to the family, “she’s going to have everyone wrapped around her little finger.”

“She’s already got you,” you teased, but it wasn't denying anything.

“So does her mother,” the way you beamed at him made him practically melt, “I love you. So much.”

“I love you too,” you whispered back, “so, so much.”

You laid back in the uncomfy, hard bed already dreaming of going back to your own bed. You watched as Steve looked at Cami, clearly trying to memorize every detail about her. She was still in your arms but as you leaned back you angled her towards him, “go on.”

“Hmm?” he raised his eyebrows but eagerly took her from your arms, holding her securely against his chest. He’d practiced this and readied him for this moment, but he still grew nervous. He was holding her like she was made of glass, “do you want to get some rest, angel?”

“I do,” you admitted, “but I also know you, my love. Go on and take her. Show her off to everyone.”

“A-are you sure?” there was a spark in his eye and you nodded. If there was anyone you trusted, it was him. Plus, you couldn’t lie, you kind of wanted him to show her off, “I don’t want to take her if you’re not comfortable with it.”

“I’m sure,” you promised, “go and gloat about Baby Harrington. I know they’re dying to see her just as much as you’re dying to show her off.”

“I won’t be gone too long,” he leaned over and pressed a kiss to your forehead, “I’ll be extra careful with Blob - Cami!”

“HA!” you grinned through a yawn, “I told you it would stick. Cami the Blob. I love it, it’s perfect.”

“We’re not…fine,” he laughed softly as Cami made a few small sounds as if she was trying to make her opinion known, “oh Cami girl, I’m afraid your nickname will also forever be Blob. Until your sibling comes along and then they can be Blob.”

“Bold of you to assume I’m doing this again,” you snorted in amusement, “and even bolder to assume they would also look like a blob! Maybe they’d be scrunkly or something!”

“I’m not even going to pretend I have any clue what you just said,” he pecked your lips a few times, “get some rest, mama. We’ll be back soon.”

“Love you both,” your eyes were already closing as you watched him leave the room. You loved them both terribly…but you were ready for a little rest before the chaos truly started.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Steve practically had a spring in his step as he walked out of the room with his daughter - his daughter! - and went to look around for his fellow nurses. As soon as he’d stepped foot out the door, he was stopped by one of the doctors. By now everyone had heard about the arrival of Baby Harrington and everyone was eager for a look at her.

“She’s beautiful,” the doctor was on her way to another room but took a few moments to stop and admire the baby. Steve felt every bit the proud father, “well done to both of you, but mainly your wife!”

“She did do all the hard work,” he agreed softly with a wink, “but I’ll let her know.”

Before going downstairs to the ER, where he knew his partner was working, he popped his head into the breakroom, finding curious eyes on him, “I’ve got a little visitor!”

They all gathered around him, quietly and leaving some room so they wouldn’t disturb the sleeping baby. How she managed to still be asleep was besides him. They call cooed over her, throwing in their well wishes and congratulations. Everyone loved Steve - he was a likable guy after all - and naturally they loved anyone associated with him.

This kid was to be a little star at the hospital. Then again, people were still in love with how the two of you had met there; all because of a silly broken ankle. It was the best injury of your life, despite the mess it created. It had given you the best thing in your life and together the two of you had created the next best thing.

Once he made it out of the breakroom, he made his way downstairs to where he knew his partner would be. If there was anyone he wanted to share this moment with, it was her.

Luckily, he didn’t have to go far. Word had already gotten to his fellow nurse and she caught him just as he came back into the hallway. Her entire face lit up as she took in the small, soft looking bundle in his arms.

“Is that who I think it is?” she asked softly as Steve eagerly nodded. She wanted to squeeze him in a big hug, but didn’t want to crush the baby either. Instead, she gently peeked at the sleeping baby and made a quiet sound of delight, “Steve! She’s beautiful.”

“Thanks,” he grinned at her, his heart full to bursting, “I have to admit, I’m pretty scared right now. I don’t wanna mess up this whole dad thing.”

“Steve,” she touched his cheek, her tone melting into the sweetness she often reserved for him, “I’ve watched you grow from a brand new wide-eyed nurse into the wonderful husband - and father - you are now. You have such a good heart, and you’re a good kid. You’re going to screw it up sometimes, trust me when I say we all do, but if there’s anyone that’s going to do this thing right, it’s you. And you know that if you need anything, you’ve got plenty of people that are willing to help. You know you can call me day or night, anytime for anything.”

“Thank you,” he was teary eyed for what felt like the hundredth time that day as he managed to give her a side hug, “you’re amazing, Brenda. I seriously don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“We certainly wouldn’t be here right now,” she teased; she was the one that had finally convinced Steve to ask you out, despite his initial hesitation with the whole patient-caretaker thing. But she was right - if he hadn’t listened to her, none of this would have been possible, “tell you what, try and get some rest while you’re still here and one of the other nurses will look after her. The two of you are in for quite a change.”

“Another good idea,” he snickered, “among your many.”

“I know,” she winked at him before stealing a last look at the baby that had already won over so many hearts, “tell your wonderful wife I say hello and congratulations. When you get settled at home, let me know and I’ll bring over some food. Cooking is going to be the last thing on your mind.”

“I will.”

“Promise?”

“Pinky,” he grinned.

He was still scared and worried, but somehow he knew that this would all be okay. He’d always wanted to be a father, and now he was. What a world, a wonderful, weird world.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was a few days later when you were finally home and had started to settle into a routine. As much of a routine that a newborn allowed for that was.

It was a wonderful strangeness that having a baby brought into your home. It was no longer a quiet, pristine place, but a perfectly chaotic house. You liked it; it felt like things were falling into place as they were meant to.

And Steve, wonderful amazing Steve, made everything so much better. He was definitely hands on and helped with Camila just as much as you did. He claimed that you did all the hard work and she was the result of both of you not just one of you, so why would you do everything. He was definitely the opposite of a lot of fathers, but then again, you’d always known he was special and that you were lucky. There was still a lot to learn and navigate but you had no doubt that the two of you would figure it out.

You came back from the bathroom after taking a much needed shower and padded into the bedroom, ready to catch a bit of sleep for however long you were able to. You found Steve in bed, Cami curled up on his chest as he stroked her back gently. She was asleep, and he was getting there too.

“Hey,” you whispered as he looked over and gave you a sleepy smile. He still managed to look at you as though you’d hung the moon and all the stairs. You crawled into bed next to him, curling into his side, “you got her to sleep!”

“Didn’t take much this time,” he admitted with a small laugh, “gave her some milk and down she went.”

“I’m ready for a nap too,” you yawned, “I think we all are. I can put her in the bassinet?”

“Nah,” she shook his head gently, “she’s okay right here. I’ll be careful…you get some sleep and we can trade off later on.”

“Are you sure, love?” you peeked an eye at him, but he just nodded, “you can take a nap first-”

“I’m sure,” he reached over and touched your cheek gently before kissing your forehead, “you need some rest, mama. I’ll probably just read for a bit.”

“Will you read to me?” you asked softly as he beamed at you, your own personal ray of sunshine, “just until I fall asleep. I won’t sleep for too long.”

“You’ll sleep for however long you need,” he insisted sweetly, “but of course, I’ll always read to you.”

“You’re the best,” your eyes were already closed and you knew that it wasn’t going to be long until you were asleep, “I love you so much, Stevie. And you too, Cami girl.”

“I love you too,” he grabbed his book and started to read out loud softly, so he wouldn’t disturb either of his girls.

It wasn’t more than a few minutes before he read you snoring softly, along with Cami’s deep breaths.

Yeah, this wasn’t so bad after all.

Steve had his girls and all the love in the world.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington one shot #nurse!steve #joe keery #st

974 notes · View notes

blushweddinggowns · 1 year ago

Text

It had started as a rough few weeks. A rough few weeks that turned into a rough few months. It was weird, because in all honesty when it came to social standings, Will was doing a lot better here than he ever did in Hawkins. There were no Zombie Boy stories following him here, and he even managed to get a few girls to have a crush on him. He…still wasn’t quite clear how that worked out and he really wasn’t a fan of it. But they were also the only people he could talk to at school. He was way too paranoid of getting close to any guys. God forbid he got another crush on a friend, having none of them just seemed like the better course of action.

It didn’t help that Mike had basically stopped acknowledging that he existed after they moved. He didn’t write to him, he didn’t call him, and it felt like the only time he heard his voice was when he politely asked for El over the phone. And it hurt. It hurt a lot. Especially when he still put in so much effort to get ahold of El all the time. He’d resent her for it if he could, but the only one who was having a worse time than him with the move was her. Maybe Mike was a shitty friend to him, but at least she had someone to talk to.

But whatever. Lucas and Dustin cared, and so did Eddie and Steve. And when Jonathan wasn’t busy being high as hell, he had him too. Even Max called him more often than Mike did. Even when she was just trying to get ahold of El she’d take the time to ask him how he was, a courtesy that his best friend from freaking kindergarten couldn’t even offer anymore.

So maybe Will didn’t have many friends in California yet, but he didn’t feel very lonely.

Just a little heartbroken.

But he could get past it. Especially when some of his favorite people were only one phone call away. Sometimes it made him feel a little guilty, that Steve and Eddie were his go to for talking about his problems. Especially since Jonathan was always trying to get him to open up. Even when he was zoinked out of his gourd he never failed to ask Will how his day was. Though…he did have a hard time following the plot when Will told him.

But that didn’t change the fact that Jonathan always wanted to help. But what could Will say? I’m depressed because I’m in love with my best friend who doesn’t care about me? And oh yeah, I’m gay? Yeah, no. That wasn’t going to happen. If Jonathan of all people hated him for that…he’s not sure he could recover. But that doesn’t mean he didn’t think about it.

It was kind of pathetic, but he’d fantasize about it sometimes. Coming out to his family, everyone smiling and saying they’d love him anyway, no matter what. And if he was being honest with himself, it was technically possible, right? His brother had never said a bad word about Steve and Eddie. His mom never failed to shut the homophobic crap down when his crappy sperm donor had still been around. But it was different when it was your own kid, right? Will wasn’t quite sure. But he did know that he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

So he called who he always did when he had a problem. It only took a few rings before someone was picking up, Steve’s familiar voice on the other end, “Hello?”

“Hey, it’s me,” Will sighed, flopping face first into his bed, the phone pressed to his ear.

He could hear the smile in Steve’s voice, “Hey kiddo, what’s up?”

God, he was such a dad. Will wouldn’t be shocked if he started wearing socks with sandals by the time he hit twenty-three. He went straight to the point, “Do you think that living happily ever after is like a real thing? For people like us?”

Steve laughed, “It better fucking be after all the shit we’ve seen.”

“I don’t mean the Upside Down stuff,” Will sighed, “I mean like…y’know. The gay.”

Steve snorted, “The gay? I’m going to have to tell Eddie that one.”

Will rolled his eyes at the redundant statement. He had learned a long time ago that telling Steve something meant telling Eddie something, and vice versa. He sighed a tiny smile on his face, “Oh what, like he’s not already next to you listening in?”

“...touché.”

Will laughed, turning over to stare at the ceiling, “I’m serious though. Like…is it even possible? It’s not like everyone gets to magically find their soulmate at eight.”

“Is that such a bad thing though?” Steve asked, “Because no offense dude but honestly? I think you could do a lot better than Mike-”

“Be nice,” Will interrupted, torn between being defensive for Mike’s sake and amused at Steve never failing to find a way to come at him.

“I will when he starts being nice to me.”

“Well that’s just not going to happen,” Will laughed, “I’m starting to think Eddie’s right to call you a brat.”

Steve gasped, loud and scandalized. He’d been hanging out with Robin too much, “Me?! Never!”

Will could barely hear it over the receiver, but he could hear Eddie’s faint voice coming through, Yes he is!

And it was making him laugh even harder. Will missed this, so much. He missed having a place where he could just say whatever he wanted, with no worries. Even now he was looking over his shoulder, anxious at the chance that his mom or a sibling could come bursting in at any moment to catch him in the act of being comfortable. It was a confusing and weird feeling, and probably a little unfair to assume they’d prefer him to be sad and quiet over happy and queer. But he still did.

But for now he was safe. And he might as well take the chance to speak on all the things he couldn’t with anyone else, “But what if I don’t want to do better than Mike? Like…it’s stupid but do you think that um, I would ever have a chance?”

The answer was a strong no, but sometimes Will just needed a reality check from someone else’s mouth.

Steve sighed, “I think the odds are pretty low bud. All jokes aside, even if he was playing for our team, I’m not sure if he’s the type who could even accept it. Y’know?”

Will did know, unfortunately. And if he’d never met Eddie and Steve there was a solid chance he’d be that guy. The truth stung a bit, but it was necessary, “I know, I know. But…do you think he would accept me? If he ever found out?”

“He fucking better. Otherwise I’ll-”

Will heard a shuffle on the other end, paired with something that sounded suspiciously like whining before he heard Eddie’s voice, “Will? You there? Sorry about that. I had to take the phone away before he started talking about beating up a child.”

Will grinned, happy to hear Eddie’s voice, “You made the right call. Do you think they’ll ever get along?”

“Not in this lifetime,” Eddie sighed, “And I know Mike’s not perfect, but if he’s okay with us why wouldn’t he be with you?”

“But it’s different when it’s a friend, isn’t it?” Will asked, “I’m not even sure if my mom would accept it, let alone him.”

“Well first of all, you don’t have to tell anyone shit, okay? But I can promise you that Joyce would be fine with it. And so would Jonathan for that matter. And I don’t even know if El is aware of what homophobia even is.”

It all sounded a lot more believable out of Eddie’s mouth than what was going on in his own head. But still… “What if they don’t though? What if I tell them and they kick me out or something? Or make me go to therapy?”

“Okay, on the off, off chance that you tell them and Joyce suddenly became a monster overnight, we’ll go to plan B. Steve and I will drive up there to kidnap you and you can live in Indy with us.”

Will grinned. He could live with that, “Can’t we just make that Plan A?”

“No, because your family loves you, as they should by the way. And this won’t bother them, I swear. Plus, telling them on your own terms is a lot less awkward than getting caught in the act.”

Will didn’t even want to know what Eddie was alluding to with that one. Poor Wayne, “But what if we’re wrong?”

He wanted to believe him, he really did, but stranger things had happened outside of gay people being disowned.

“Will, listen to me,” Eddie said, his voice confident enough to make Will perk up, “I swear on Steve’s life, okay? There is no way in hell anyone in that house is gonna reject you for this.”

Will blinked, a little shocked at just how much faith he had in his family. More than he did, “Really?”

“Really. Trust me on this man, you’re going to be fine.”

They hung up pretty soon after that, mostly because El started knocking on his door for the phone. The conversation made him feel a bit better, but also…nervous. Could he really tell them? Would it all just work out? Just like that? Will wasn’t so sure.

He decided against doing it right away despite Eddie’s own confidence. But he did start to drop a few feelers. He started with Jonathan, waiting until he was high enough for him to forget the conversation if it didn’t go well. And that wasn’t a long wait.

He found him and his new friend sprawled out in his room, Fast Times playing in the background as they both stared into space. Though Will wasn’t quite sure he could count what Argyle was doing as staring. He’s eyes were barely open, and Will was 90 percent sure he was passed out. But that was good for him, now was as good a time as any.

Jonathan smiled at him as he wandered in, his words kind but slurring, “Hey! What’s up? You never come in here. You wanna watch something or…?”

Will shook his head, his heart aching a little at the way it made his brother frown. Maybe he really had been neglecting him, too caught up in his own head to spend time with the closest thing he had to a Dad.

It made him feel a little bad, but that wasn’t what he was here for, “No thanks. I just wanted to ask you something.”

“Sure!” Jonathan said, way too excited at the prospect of a simple question, but maybe that was the weed, “What’s up?”

Will shrugged, casually leaning against the door. Or at least he hoped it looked casual, because his heart was beating a mile per minute, “Steve said that his and Eddie’s anniversary is coming up soon. Do you think I should send them something?”

Jonathan tilted his head up to look at him, his eyes bloodshot with a tiny smile on his face, “That’s like…so nice dude. You’re always so nice. How are you so nice?”

“You don’t think it’s weird?” Will pressed, hope fluttering in his chest, “To be, y’know, celebrating them like that?”

Jonathan shook his head, “Nah man. It’s like…romance. Y’know? It’s sweet.”

“Yeah dude, gay guys are cool,” Argyle agreed out of nowhere, his eyes still closed, “Good for Stu and Eggie. Gay people got like, the best hair.”

Will didn’t really know what to do with that one. But Jonathan was impressed. He jerked his head back to stare at Argyle, his voice in awe, “How’d you know he had good hair? I never told you he had good hair.”

“I bet they both have good hair,” Argyle sighed, “They alway do.”

“Are you like, psychic?” Jonathan asked, like that made any sense at all.

“Shit, you think I could be?”

Will watched as the two of them started to debate the idea, his brow raised. God, weed sure was a hell of a drug. He left them to it after that, deciding to slowly back out of the room. But he was going to chalk it up as a positive.

preview for the next chapter (kind of) of this fic

#steddie #stranger things #will byers #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #the universe trapped in your skin #she's coming along #so fucking slowly #but she's coming #just a little preivew to prove she still exists

412 notes · View notes