#on an unlucky day no less | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lufyuu · 7 months ago

Text

,,Discipline''

Older military instructor x younger brat male reader

Tw/s: brat taming, dubcon, face fucking, age gap (22&38), sadism, hair grabbing/pulling, punishing themes, light degration and praise.

The room is almost dead quiet if not for the lecture a tall man is giving. Air and people alike both tense. Nobody dares to make a wrong move nor play around. Though, that 'nobody' doesn't include a certain young man who has just barely graduated from college not long ago. Some describe him as a very shameless and lazy man, while others just say he's enjoying life. He'd always be either on his phone or napping all throughout his classes. It seems like it's all he can ever do, even at home. Instead of finding a decent job and finding love like his friends, he only stayed home being a bum living in his parents' basement. This 'routine' continued until he got the sudden news of being enlisted in the military all thanks to his mom, who by this point, had almost given up on her son if not for the neighbors giving advice. They had said their son used to be like hers until they forcefully pushed him into the military. Ever since then, he's been nothing but responsible.

The young man in question is [Name] [L.Name]. The moment you heard you'd go into the military, you got pissed at your mom and locked the door to your bedroom-like basement for a few days. Refusing to eat and talk. This didn't do much other than starve you. The military was unavoidable by this point so, you had no other choice but to depart from home in just a few weeks time.

Today's your second day in the military. Well, you're at the very back of a huge crowd of men in uniforms. They had given everyone a pair of uniform to wear today but honestly, you just threw it on randomly, not even caring if some buttons were left unbuttoned. Somehow, you'd sneaked your phone in. Providing some entertainment as an old man, whom you don't remember the name of, explains the rules and laying out the schedule for your daily life there. You couldn't give less of a fuck. None of this matters anyways, you're going to be out in like what? A few weeks after the training's over. Maybe you'd even get out faster if you show your signature pout to your mom like always.

Scrolling on Twitter, you watch some sex videos without clicking on the video itself. You're a whole creep, but why dwell on it? You've given up on yourself years ago. This doesn't matter all that much. You could even feel yourself getting hard at the sight. You wish you hear them enjoying a good fucking right now. Unfortunately for you and your almost hardened dick, that wouldn't be possible. Even though you sneaked in a phone, you hadn't managed to sneak in a pair of headsets. How unlucky. Your eyes focus on the video, never moving from it even when the man's loud voice pierce through your ears. At the very least, you do know that he's an ex soldier who has fought in one of the many wars that has happened in the past decade. Not that you'd be able to do much with that information. Apparently he came here just to be a substitute as the actual instructor had gotten a serious illness and has a high chance of staying in the hospital for at least a few months, causing him to not be able to come and teach. You'd rather he shut the fuck up though. His loud voice is ruining your mood watching porn. "Jesus can he just shut up", you mumble to yourself, maybe one or two near you heard but not like they'd snitch.

Even in a serious situation, you manage to get hard. Although you're shameless, you're not shameless enough to masturbate infront of all these people. That'd be ridiculous. So, you try to hold yourself back. '10 more minutes...you can hold it' you think to yourself.

You scroll to a particularly sexually arousing video. It shows a man being facefucked roughly. Drool rolling down his chin as he's forced to take it all in, not being able to catch his breath. You can even feel yourself getting harder and harder by the second. You imagine yourself as the one on the receiving end. God how'd amazing it would be to have another man's cock down your throat like that, fucking it and putting you in your place. Just the thought of it is enough to make you twitch.

You hover your finger over the video and just as you're about to scroll. Thump! "I'm so sorry—", the man next to you who had just bumped your dominant hand on accident is silenced by the very loud sound of moaning and slurping coming from your device. You instantly freeze. Not daring or even able to move to close the video. All eyes are now on you as you're the source of the very out of place noises. Heck, you somehow notice the instructor stopping dead in the middle of his lecture just to stare at you through the crowd. Your eyes are still wide as you try your best to salvage what's left or your ego by closing the app entirely. Almost dropping it in the process. "Fuck..", you let out after holding in your words for a few seconds. You're so done for. With that, people begin to whisper just beside you as you can do nothing about it. The room gets noisier and noisier by the second until eventually...

"Silence."a manly and fierce voice commands. It sets the whole mood of the room as everyone turns to face the man in front of them, tense. You could do nothing but follow their move. "Today's lesson is over. Everyone may leave in an orderly fashion.", his tone leaves no room for complaints as everyone leaves quietly, shoulders tense. With you being last in line, he stops you before you even get the chance to make it halfway to the exit. "Not you, young man.", even though your brain tells you to leave, every single part of your body stops, not being able to get out of the dangerous situation. You only stood still as he went over to close the door. When he turns back, you can see his badge and finally identify him as Han Minho. Almost everything comes back to you. He's the soldier who played a crucial part in stopping the war 20 years ago. Here he is now, in the flesh, looking at you with almost a glare.

"You do know why I'm holding you back, don't you?", it's a question yet his tone doesn't seem like one. It's more of getting you to admit your guilt. Though, there's no way you'd admit something like that. "No", you try to avoid his gaze by looking elsewhere and distracting yourself with the walls and floors. He can only sigh at your refusal to admit what you'd done. As he reaches over to his desk to grab something, you take the opportunity to sprint to the door—anndd you're pinned to it. So much for getting out the door, you're not trapped between the door and Minho. You shouldn't have underestimated his strength and agility even for a second as that caused this. "And where do you think you're going? I don't remember letting you off", he hovers over you, you practically have to tilt your head up a bit just to be face to face with the man.

The room remains dead silent for another 10 seconds until Minho finally breaks it. "Give me your phone", he demands, holding his hand out to take it away from you. "That's my property, why should I give it to you?", you try to push him off with your phone still in your hands. He snatches it away and even when you try to grab it back, he has enough ability to keep you away. Seeing as you have a password set, he decides to grab your dominant hand and use your finger to unlock the phone. You tried resisting but of course his strength is outmatched. He immediately goes to your twitter page, finally finding the source of the disturbance in his lecture.

"...so. This, is what you've been up to during my lecture.", he stares at the video, hardly impressed. He looks back at you, "you got turned on by this?", he clealy spots your arousal under those uniform pants. He's merely pointing it out. You shake your head no once more, can't he just let you go already..."Darling, even I have a bigger one", he seems to be pointing out the fact that his dick size is bigger compared to the guy getting sucked off in the video. You scoff, the dick in the video's at least 5-6 inches, what is he even on. "Alright old man, I'm just going to head out with my phone", you try to take the phone out of his hand as he holds it near you uet to no avail. His grip doesn't waver as you try to pry the phone out of his hand. "I don't recall asking you to head back?", his eyes are oh so intimidating as he stares into yours. In a split second, he manages to pull you infront of the desk. "Get on your knees", he lets a chilling smile spread on his face. A smile that sends shivers down your spine, your knees getting weaker by the second. You still refuse and try to put on a brave face which only frustrates Minho more. "Unless you want me to spread this? I can assure you, anything that comes out of my mouth will be spreading like wildfire.", he shakes your phone a bit. He isn't wrong nor exaggerating. Anything coming out of his mouth is bound to reach the ears of your parents and maybe even close friends. You can't let that happen!

Reluctantly, you get on your knees infront of him. You look up at his tall figure, wondering what he wants or even gain from this. His hands reach over to his zipper as he slowly and teasingly zip it down. "W-wait!", you try to stop his hands by overlapping them with yours. He waits for you to continue your sentence yet you cant find the words to express what you want. "Why are you hesitating? Isn't this what you want? You're already hard", he points out your hard-on, straining against your pants. You can't respond to it as it is true you're hard and needy. With a simple yank, your hands fall back on the ground as he finishes undoing his pants. He slips his hard and long dick out. It's very close to your face, hell, it even almost slapped you. After a few seconds, you could tell his dick is definitely bigger than the one you had just seen a couple minutes ago. "What? Cat got your tongue?", he has a smug expression on his face due to how quiet you became. "Why don't you take care of my cock if you have nothing else to do?", he raises his eyebrows as his eyes lower into an intimidating gaze. "And don't use any teeth", rather than a request, it felt more like a threat. You put your hands around his cock and start to slowly lick the head ever so slightly. Not having prior experience in sucking nor licking cock, you do such a bad job at it that it gets a yawn from the man whose hard cock you're tending to. "Is that the best you can do? At least try putting half of it in your mouth", you try your best to fit half of his cock in but of course it's a bit hard. When it is in, you begin to suck and lick his cock. Trying to ignore the fact you feel like you're about to choke if you keep it in any longer.

"That's better, good boy", he praises and calls you a pet name. He takes out your phone and begins to record you sucking his cock. For a few seconds, you don't notice ad you're too focused on sucking his dick. When you do notice, you try to back off and remove his cock from your mouth. This ends up with him grabbing your hair and pulling you back, taking his whole cock in your mouth, the tip of your nose touching his happy trail. Your face contort in a mixture of gagging and somewhat pain. You so desperately want to get his dick out of your mouth but he keeps your head firmly there. Not moving at all for maybe 5 seconds. Even when he does let you move, it's just him guiding you back and forth. Your hair is super messy now due to him gripping it so hard, thrusting his hips into you, making you take it in your throat. "You're doing such a great job...ah...", he grunts and moans. The hand holding your phone is very still, making sure to get the best view of his dick going in and out your mouth.

You can even taste some of his precum in your mouth. Both of you can tell he's close to his climax. The way he thrusts faster and faster gives it all away. All you can do is hope that he cums faster. As his grunts and moans get louder, his hand almost loses grip on the phone. "Agh..ah..'m cumming..don't swallow,,agh yet!", cum starts to pour into your mouth, a lot of it. It almost overflows and due to your mouth being wide open, some of it drips on the ground in-between the two of you. You close your eyes as you can feel the warm liquid enter. When Minho pulls away, there was a sticky string that connected his cock to your mouth. He pants while you try your best to close your mouth without swallowing any. "Look at me", you look up at him as his fingers part your lips without using any force. It reveals your mouth full of his cum. Finishing the recording, he takes a picture of your face with his cum dripping out your mouth before telling you to "swallow."

He eventually returns your phone back to you after tidying himself up. "Clean up this mess you've made. I expect you to be on your best behavior next time." He walks past you towards the door. "If not, there will be more where that came from", he doesn't even look at you as he says those words. Only letting a little chuckle and walking away, the door closing as he does, leaving you all alone with cum all over the floor and your phone.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

A couple of months later, you find yourself making more and more friends. They aren't your close friends in any way but it's nice having a handful of people to talk to as you go through the intensive training together. Ever since the incident, you find yourself avoiding the mistake you had made before. Fortunately, you manage to keep your phone on you rather than having it confiscated by Han Minho. Even though you never notice, Minho has always been paying more attention to you than others. Perhaps he's trying to catch you on your phone once more for another round. Regardless, whatever the reason is, you're oblivious to it.

Your routine stays the same. It's the same old routine for everyone there anyways. Get up at 5AM, get ready and have a bit of breakfast before the morning training. Have a few hours to yourself where everyone's free to do anything they would like. Then it's lunchtime before going back to training.

The cafeteria is busy due to everyone flocking to it in order to fill their empty stomachs. The sound of people chstting away, muttering and even whispering to one another, fills the whole room. You take a seat next to one of your buddies. "How'd you guys sleep?", you ask, trying to start a conversation before biting down on your sandwich. The whole incident behind you. "Eh, I've slept better nights", one answers that starts a chain reaction of people agreeing. You can see where they're coming from. The whole training's tiring not to mention boring. The table's silent for a moment until someone perks up. "Hey! I know what we should do!", he looks at everyone with anticipating eyes. Everyone, including you, look at him confusingly. "We should have a little fun before going to bed, that'll make us sleep better and not be bored", he recommends excitedly. You all looks at one another before nodding. "Sounds like an idea but...what should we do?", you tilt your head to which he replies with a smug expression.

The clock tick tocks as it points at 22:48. It's usually when people are already sleeping after a long day of training. But not you and your friends though. You're all wide awake sitting on the floor with a water bottle. It's just the beginning of the game your friend had suggested. It's a bit tense due to the fact everyone's sacred of being caught, especially if it's by the Han Minho. He's scarier than everyone in the training combined. Once he says something, everyone shuts up and listens or at the very least keep up the act of listening even is they aren't. "Let's whisper for now, what if he's out on patrol in the hallways..we'll be absolutely fucked", the man next to you, Tae, suggests. As he says this, he leans into the middle in order for everyone to hear and raising his right hand at the side of his mouth. Everyone nods in agreement as the game starts quietly and slowly.

"Joon, truth or dare?", Tae starts the game, pointing at the friend sitting across from the two of you. He pauses for a moment and proceeds to pick 'truth'. It's what anyone would pick, really. Tae doesn't hesitate to ask him a question. It seems as if he's been holding this in for a while. "Is it true that your dad's a close friend of Han Gyogwan-nim?", Joon shares the same energy as he immediately nods excitedly. "Yeah! And you guys wanna know something?", he gathers everyone while leaning into the circle. Everyone does the same as he gossips, "I heard he used to have a wife before she left him", some chuckle while others look in disbelief, "how come? He's honestly kinda...", another person in the group, Jaehyun, chimes in. Insinuating that their instructor's good-looking which isn't entirely false. "I'm not quite sure", Joon backs away from the gathering, "something about not being able to get it up", now everyone's snickering, someone as intimidating as him, not being able to get hard? What a joke. Well, it sounds like a joke to you anyway. If he isn't able to get it up, how the fuck was he stuffing your mouth with cock and cum just a few months back?

Moving on from the first question, everyone gets a bit more comfortable now that Joon's revealed a secret of their oh so intimidating 'boss.' Hell, they don't even try to be quiet anymore, some talking in their normal voice and some even outright laughing loudly. Thankfully for everyone in the room, Han Minho isn't around to hear their loud noises.

It's been a couple rounds since the first. Everyone knows to be as quiet as possible while still having fun. "Spin it!", you nudge a guy next to you. Tae bends to spin the bottle in the middle of the circle. It spins for a bit before stopping at you. "[Name]! Truth or dare", he turns to ask you to which you confidently reply with "dare of course", with a cheeky grin. They all begin to discuss on what to dare you to do. "Go commando until tomorrow", as Tae says that, they all begin to laugh. To you, it's nothing major. You've done that a couple times in the past anyways, it's quite comfortable.

1:20AM...

2:41AM...

3:00AM.

Remembering you all have to wake up at 5 and also the fact that everyone's tired as shit, you along with the others head to bed and close the very dim light source, leaving the room almost pitch dark. You're so comfortable that in just seconds of closing your eyes, you fall into a deep sleep.

Maybe too deep of a sleep due to the fact you don't wake up in time for training. Nobody came in to fetch any of you which is quite strange to say the least but none of you minded due to the fact you're all catching up on some good old sleep. Even when it's already 5:20, not a single soul in that room is awake. Some are snoring, some are quiet, some even have their blankets thrown onto the ground. You're alnost sprawled out on the mattress with drool escaping from your mouth.

The ever so dark room is then pierced by the door opening. A tall figure appears at the doorway. The sudden light wakes up a few, with them rubbing their eyes and yawning as if they aren't 20 minutes late. "Hm? What time is it", your friend asks, still yawning and adjusting his eyes to see who it is that has woken them up. "Get. Up.", his eyes meets the glaring ones belonging to Han Minho. Their instructor. This immediately wakes them up, checking the time and seeing it's way past when they're supposed to get up. Even when they're still sleepy, they fight the urge to go back to bed and instead pick themselves up, practically sprinting outside, past Minho. Most of them went out. All but one [Name] who is still sleeping soundly, probably dreaming of...dirty things. Turning the dim lights on, the man steps closer and closer to your still sleeping figure. Your peaceful face contrasts his dissapointed and frustrated one. He pulls off your blanket roughly. Due to the fact you're having a wet dream and how you're not wearing any underwear, your erection can be seen clearly by the older man.

Not long after, lustful noises coming from you can be heard. 'Even in your dreams, you're still a horny bastard.', is what Minho thinks of. Though, he can't deny that your beautiful noises have made him hard. He still thinks of that incident every single day. Hell, he even jerks off to the thought of it every night. Without someone to satisfy his needs, he resorts to you and the thought of you.

God all he wants to do right now is flip you over and fuck you senseless but he must keep his composure as best he can. You're asleep afterall. Using his index finger and thumb, he reaches over to pinch your cheek, hard. This wakes you up almost immediately, it really hurted! "Ow ow!", you push his hand away as you open your eyes. Sitting up, you rub your cheek as your eyes try to focus and see who it was that did this to you. "Han Gyogwan-nim!?", you yell outloud, shocked at the man's presence. He shuts his eyes in annoyance. "Be quiet, you're going to alert the others", you look at him in confusion, "do you want me to help with your little problem over there?", he vaguely points at your 'problem'. You look at the direction he's pointing at and realizes you're hard...but so is he.

He notices as you oogle at his clothed cock which is straining against his pants. "How about we help each other out?", he suggests, putting a knee on the soft mattress. Eventually, he's in between your legs, face just inches away from yours. Blush covers your whole face. You don't know what to do. What could you do..?

His body slightly brushing your already hardened cock makes you even more tense and aroused. He presses his lips onto yours.

You instinctively put your hands on his shoulders, wanting to push him away but at the same time, melting into the kiss. You stay there, conflicted as his hands trail closer and closer to your pants. The only piece of clothing protecting your bare ass from the rough man. Just as you're getting used to this..position, the door almost swings open. With all your strength, you catch Minho off guard and shove him into your blanket. Thankfully for the both of you, by the way the door is facing, the large lump in your blanket isn't too noticeable, you can brush it off as you just sitting up.

Joon stands in the doorway, making a loud noise as he calls out for you, "[Name]! Quick! Didn't Han Gyogwan-nim come here to wake you up too!? We're going to be dead by the time we get to the training grounds!", he is about to approach you when you stop him. "Please sta—! aGH."

From inside your blanket, you can feel a certain man's fingers reaching their way into your boxer-less pants. Reaching behind and fondling; gropping your ass as it searches for your hole. You gasp at the action. In just a few seconds, his finger is already plunging itself into your tight hole. "[Name]..? Are you okay? Sick?", Joon asks with a worried look but also confused. You put your hand up to your mouth, muffling out any unintentional sound that might come out of your mouth. "U-uh..ye-yes, I am..", you agree with him. He sighs, "I'll inform Han Gyogwan-nim, eat the medicine over by the cabinet, he might might not agree to let you off scot free the next time you miss training..", little does he know, that 'Gyogwan-nim' is currently 2 fingers deep in your hole, twisting and turning inside you to find your prostate. You can only sit there and take it as you should. You really wsnt to bury your face into the pillow right now in order to properly conceal your facial expressions from Joon but that's not possible at the moment. One wrong move and who knows what Minho might do.

"Do you have a fever?", he steps closer once more, this time, too close for comfort. Coincidentally, at this moment, Minho finds your prostate, making you jerk in pleasure, "aH..!", you shut your eyes, biting on the inner part of your lip while stopping Joon with your hand. Signaling a stop with it. "Are you sure you're okay...? You're really weird right now man", "p-please give me some time...", you can barely hold in the noises you so badly want and need to let out. Joon eventually walks away with a weirded out look. He'll get over it soon.

The door closes behind Joon and you can feel Minho's fingers getting faster and faster. In and out of your hole, trying to get you to cum. You throw your head back, closing your eyes and finally letting out those moans Minho's been wanting to hear for so long. Though, just as you're about to cum, Minho stops as if he knew you would. Your breath hitches and you look back to face the man who has just removed his fingers out of you. His expression displays sadism. It's clear that he loves seeing you like this more than anything. "We can't have you cumming that fast now can we? It'll be no fun", he starts to remove his belt and then pants until he reaches his boxer. You can only watch him impatiently, wanting his cock deep inside you already and so does he.

Once his dick is freed from the clothing covering it, he wastes no time and flips you over on your belly. "Ass up", he commands and by whatever readon, your body feels compelled to do what's told. With your ass facing him, he plunges his fat cock into you. If it weren't for you pushing him a bit with your hand reaching back, it would have already gone deep inside you. Fortunately, it's only halfway there. He chuckles knowing his cock is too big for you to even handle. Neither one of you knows whether it'll fit or not. "Fuck..", he curses as he feels your hole squeezing his cock. Oh how long has he been waiting for this feeling. To be inside of you. He can't wait anymore. Even with you putting your whole strength into trying to keep him in place, he can overpower you quite easily. With a simple push, his cock slides in all the way in, balls deep. You can feel your eyes roll back, trying to form a coherent word. You've never taken anything this big before, especially not in your ass. Minho looks absolutely satisfied. Words can't explain the amount of pleasure he feels and will be feeling in a few seconds. "T-too big...", finally being able to talk just a few words, you state the obvious. You can even see his cock bulging just a bit above your belly button. It's too much.

"I'm going to move now", he immediately gets to it. Thrusting in and out, moving his hips. Your poor hole is sure to be thoroughly stretched after this. Your warn insides welcoming his cock by squeezing so tight, almost not wanting to let go. You don't contain your loud moans, letting them all out. It's like music to Minho's ears, to know you're enjoying every bit of it just like he is. He groans due to how tight you are. You bury your face into the pillow, trying to muffle the sound of moans due to it being the morning, not to mention the door being unlocked. If someone were to enter the door right now, they'd be face to face with you and your hole being stuffed full of cock.

The sound of skin slapping against skin is loud. Afterall, Minho is being extra rough with you. Maybe he's punishing you, or, he could be rewarding himself with you due to how long he's held back the urge to just pound you infront of everyone during training. His thrusts get faster and faster until you think it's inhumanly possible for him to be fucking you this hard. Your moans and yells are muffled by the soft pillow. One hand has a firm grip on your waist while the other gropes your ass, loving the feeling of your squishy and soft skin. "You love this don't you, [Name]", he chuckles in between breaths, a smirk on his face as he knows you can't reply. You can feel your mind go blank as he moves his hips. Your hands can only tightly hold the sheets and blanket next to you.

"Agh..Take my seed like a good boy..!", his voice shaky, clearly about to reach his limit. As he thrusts back in, his cum fills your insides. He stays there with his dick inside you as it pumps all his cum deep inside of your hole. At the same time, you also manage to cum, splurting all over the mattress. Coating the off white sheets with your thick cum. You pant, catching your breath, not able to process anything in your cock filled head. Minho places a hand over your stomach, holding you up and to make sure his cock is still inside as he leans down on your back, also trying to catch his own breath. "Good boy, you took me so well", you turn to look at him. His satisfied expression and even more satisfied cock.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

"Everyone, listen up.", the manly voice commands the whole room. Everyone stands up straight, paying attention on the owner of said voice. "I will not tolerate anyone else being late. Once the clock hits 5AM, I expect all of you to already be here.", he walks around infront of the perfect lines. His gaze is sharp. He allows no room for jokes. You stand at the very front of one of the lines. Occasionally, his eyes meet yours. Everytime you do meet eyes, there's a slight smirk on his face. Unnoticeable by everyone but you. You can't just ignore it. The both of you know why he's in such a good mood.

"This is the last time I'll tolerate any of you being late. There will be severe consequences the next time someone is. Understood?", Minho glares at the crowd. "Understood!", they all say in unision. He nods in approval. "Very well then. Today, everyone will get more rest, and we will begin training tomorrow.", he dismisses the whole training, leaving everyone confused as he walks back into his office. Everyone looks around in astonishment. Tae and Joon immediately go up to you. "Are you feeling better? Thank the heavens Han Gyogwan-nim decided to be nice today. What's that about anyways???", Joon asks with a confused look, just like any other soldier in training.

"Why're you so tense?", Tae points out as you don't have time to answer Joon's questions. You avoid eye contact as it gets a bit awkward. How could you not be when you have so much cum inside of you right now? Cum which belongs to none other than Han Minho. This is your punishment, he wants to see how long you'll last before you come crawling to him again for more cock. "N-no reason!", "relax!", Tae pats you on the back. You accidentally unclench and feel his cum dripping down inside your long pants. Who knows, maybe someone will notice. Maybe that someone will be a certain instructor. You're in for a long day and night.

══════════════════════════════

I hope you all like him! I don't have a lot to say about this man since it's almost 4am for me and I need sleep...

Please dont mind typos/grammar mistakes, I didn't have enough time to check the whole thing cuz I wanted to release it before going to sleep🥲

#oc x reader #male reader #bottom male reader #oc x male reader #x male reader #original character #「 by the hands of xin 」#xin's han minho ☆

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seelestia · 8 months ago

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✧ the gambler and his knight.

aventurine can't stand having his outfit exposed to the elements nor to the rude hands of clients that won't cooperate – luckily for him, he has you to take care of it all. { aventurine with a bodyguard!reader. }

⎯ fluff & angst. 2.9k wc. headcanons w/ some written scenes. the plot is vv subtle but it's there a.k.a aventurine simps for you (jokingly) but you both end up catching feelings (not jokingly). mentions of violence, death & russian roulette. pre-penacony timeline. a self-indulgent piece to celebrate this blog's 2nd anniv! ★

★ 〜 masterlist.

aventurine who graciously welcomes you under his employment with a game. just a little something to ease your nerves and get you used to his ways. you look at him with such incredulity as if he just fell and hit his head silly. he pays no mind to this – finds it to be amusing a great deal, actually. keep it up, newcomer!

“heads or tails?” he asks, flipping a coin in the air and catching it seamlessly. a routine for him, you would've figured from the sight. “that's. . . an odd way of saying hello,” you point out but your tone bears no hint of protest. he notices that.

“i've heard that one before,” aventurine tilts his head with a smile, nonchalant. “so what's your guess?”

“tails,” you reply without any delay. it's a mindless answer; getting it wrong this way would prove to bear less disappointment compared to putting actual thought in it. “heads for me then,” he whistles.

aventurine opens his palm. it's heads. you frown as if to suspect foul play—but you don't because you know about his notoriously good luck—and your new boss chuckles, almost placatingly.

“looks like i win,” he grins without a care in the world at all. “aren't you starving? let's fetch ourselves a meal, friend.”

a loss rewarded with a prize? you blink. with grace so in contrast to the whiplash you feel, aventurine walks past you with a trail of expensive perfume in his wake. obviously, he expects you to follow and you do after a moment's reluctance.

(this guy is more confusing than the stellaron.)

aventurine who grows quite fond of seeing you acquiesce to his wishes, whether serious or trivial. could you ward off those reporters? could you pour him a drink? could you play a game of poker with him? could you join him for lunch? you're always so professional that he starts to find some mirth in pushing your buttons (never too much). unlucky for you, he does it to be affectionate and lucky for him, you always say yes even if you roll your eyes every single time.

aventurine who trusts you with his credit card. . . to a worrying degree. when asked if he's sure about this, he just waves it off and says it'll be safer in your hands. seriously, this card has been in your possession longer than it's ever been in his. sometimes, he does ask for it back – only to drop some 200k credits to your account. “a tip for doing a good job,” he'd wink casually while you're flabbergasted beyond belief.

aventurine who finds it extremely attractive whenever you step in to protect him from harm. dealing with uncooperative clients is a day in his life, yet some are so brutish they resort to getting physical – but he has you to make sure their hands stay off him. a gun in his direction? knocked off before the trigger even has a chance to get pulled. reaching out to grab him by the collar? they're already on the ground, your foot threateningly pressed on their back as a warning. what a dashing sight – and thanks to you, his pristine outfit has been saved more times than he could count at this point.

aventurine who likes to call you his “knight in shining armor” teasingly. awh, you don't like it? he thinks you're more than deserving of that title with the way you always swoop in to get him out of trouble. if the thousands of credits he gives you aren't enough yet, won't a cute title suffice? “it sounds corny,” you tell him with a grimace—and maybe, yes—but he just chirps coyly, “dunno. i think it's fitting.”

aventurine who makes it his responsibility to check on you after a rough mission. credits are no problem, he'd even reserve the most expensive private doctor in the cosmos if that means you'll recover faster. sadly, he has little to no medical skills – so the most he can offer you is bandages. sure, you can take a bullet to the stomach and handle a punch or two, that's your job, but what about tiny scratches? . . .don't tell him you're about to reject his kind offer.

“what's your favorite color?” he queries, somewhat out of the blue considering the situation where he is helping you tend to a minor cut on your finger. you raise an eyebrow, “why do you wanna know?” as he gently plasters a plain-colored bandage on your skin (which he's only been granted permission to after minutes of begging you to let him do it).

“for the bandages,” aventurine answers. he finds no need to hide his intentions as he runs a thumb over the bandage, softly as to not hurt you, to keep its position secure. “so that the next time you ask, i'll have some in your favorite color for sure.”

“how. . . thoughtful of you,” you snort, amused.

(briefly, he resists the urge to ask if he can place a kiss on your cut for 'luck'. but if he does, you might have his head. so, he'll try another time.)

aventurine who slowly begins to find a sense of comfort in your company. maybe, it's the way you scoff at his quips with a smile or the way you always tell him to be careful. maybe, it's the way you take him seriously or the way you stay by his side—is your job description the only reason why?—or maybe, he's just pathetic and reeks of so much loneliness you feel sympathetic. he can't tell, but he hopes the luxuries he has can persuade you to stay just a little longer. even if you don't actually care. (you do.)

aventurine who notices how anxiety brims in your gaze when you watch him gamble at the table – with a sum too high to be considered sane and sometimes, his own life. he can see it all; how your hands shake as if you want to reach out, how your lips tremble as if you want to tell him to stop. but this is what he's made for, is it not? he'll survive one way or another. . . until fate decides the bill for all his past good fortune is finally due. and when the time comes, he'll be ready for it. (will you?)

a game of russian roulette.

it always starts with thrills only to end with carnage spilled all over the table. luck is the only thing worth praying for at that point and oh, is luck not the dearest friend aventurine ever had? hence the reason why he always agrees, not with a yes but with a “why not?”.

you're there as his protector, yet utterly condemned to the role of a witness as soon as aventurine nods along to that darned game. panic rushes through your veins as the gun is passed around so relaxedly, so easily with laughter all around. aventurine's next in line, you realize grimly. the next decision that comes after is spontaneous, so different from your usual calculated nature – you drag him out of the casino in a frenzy before the weapon even lands in his hand. in your head, there is no other thought louder than: he could've died.

“a shame i didn't get to the fun part,” you hear him hum from behind you, too disturbingly calm for your liking. the bustling noises inside the establishment have all but faded into the background. “that was close, hm?” he laughs, a sound you would've found endearing if this was another occasion. any occasion that doesn't involve teetering dangerously on the precipice of death.

you stop in your tracks and aventurine, behind you, naturally follows. your silence is something he first takes note of and the way your hand shakes as it holds his is the second. you still haven't let go. what's going through your mind? he calls out your name softly, perplexed at your lack of explanation.

“. . .why did you say yes?” you respond with a bitter question. “you could've died. you almost died,” you try to hold back a shout – yet, your words are spat in such a fusillade he feels a seed of guilt starting to bloom inside his lifeless heart. he discards it in favor of putting on a frivolous smile.

“oh, relax,” he lets out a chuckle, one that sounds so ignorant of the taut tension in the air. “it's just some russian roulette. why so serious?” he shrugs as if to physically brush off any seriousness clinging to his figure. his remark gives off the assumption that every single hint of your worry has flown over his head.

“it is serious. . .” you bite your bottom lip. he sneers in return, “yeah? since when?” as if to challenge you to give an actual answer. his life is full of risks, to say otherwise would be a lie. “you're sweet for worrying but you don't actually care about me that much, do you?” he snickers to himself. like the thought of your caring about him can't possibly be true, like it's all just a terrible joke.

but he's the only one laughing.

aventurine falls quiet and finally, genuinely meets your gaze for the first time that night. he doesn't like what he sees. your lips are downturned, unamused and saddened—you do care, a realization that has been left unsaid—and all remainders of levity in him are replaced by immediate dread. it only now registers that the anger, concern, frustration on your face are for him; they're the unavoidable consequences from caring about him.

(his eyes widen. no, no, no.)

“c'mon, you—” he covers it up with a carefree smile, as feigned as it came. he shoves his hand in one of his pockets. it's shaking. “. . .worry too much. you've seen me play a handful of games before. i've never lost a wager, remember?”

you don't look convinced at all. in fact, you look as if you've arrived at the brink of seething. “and if you do? for once in your life, you lose?” you prod him for more. for something, for anything – perhaps, for a promise that he won't do it again.

(but you know aventurine, you know there would be no such promise.)

“then i lose,” he says, final and resigned. “there's really nothing else to it,” he tries to offer you another smile but it didn't quite reach his eyes. “hey. at least, you'll be there to witness my spectacular fall, right? it'll be a show to remember.”

he nearly doesn't manage to keep up the façade. it's already as precarious as it can be. you don't reply to him this time – instead, you let go of his hand to wipe at your cheeks. his gaze trails after your fingers and it freezes upon seeing the pearly tears falling free from your eyes.

aventurine has never seen you cry before. you're always so stone-faced, so hard to break that he recalls almost cheering when he heard you laugh for the first time. that was when you finally won a round of poker against him. a pity, he would've reminisced about the memory more. . . if only the matter of losing and winning a game isn't as serious as it is now.

“don't say that,” you mutter, harshly wiping away at the incessant tears pouring from your eyes more than you'd ever allow them to. some make their way into your mouth, they taste just as bitter as your current frustration. does he truly value his life so little? you can't fathom it, you can't fathom him at all.

but there is one thing you were certain of, at the very least: “you hired me to protect you,” you shake your head unrelentingly, “so i'll do it. until you throw me away, i won't let you die.”

you've stopped crying then. aventurine feels remorse; the tears that you shed because of him are starting to dry. the selfish part of him wants to reach out and brush them away with his thumb – but would you let him? would this lead you further down the rabbit hole that is him? in the end, he decides against it.

“. . .i'm sorry,” he sighs instead, raking a hand through his messy blond hair. whatever it is he is apologizing for, he doesn't have a clue either. he lets his eyes slip shut. he can't bear to look at you, can't bear to look at his pitiful reflection in your eyes.

(he's not worth caring about, can't you see? he dances hand in hand with death – there is no need to subject yourself to being a spectator.)

the two of you then part ways that night with shallow pleasantries on your tongues. no inside jokes, no evident yearning for the other to stay, no more than an awkward exchange of “i'll see you tomorrow.”

on his way 'home', regret and relief clash to form something inexplicably hollow inside kakavasha's chest. he wanted to wipe away your tears—what a regret—but if he did, they would've burned on his skin and became another mark to haunt him—what a relief he didn't. and frankly, if destiny is about to reap his debt, he'd rather go with no regrets at all.

whether those regrets include you? he doesn't have an answer just yet.

(the name at the bottom of his contract with fate is signed as kakavasha. but you wouldn't recognize that name. not as him, at least.)

aventurine whose eyes can't flutter close at night ever since thoughts of you fill his mind more than they already do before. you care for him, you want him to live—all his fault, he allowed himself to get too close—but these realizations are rooted in too deep and refuse to leave. what to do, what to do, what to do?

it isn't supposed to turn out like this.

what he and you have is meant to be transactional; he'd be spared from unnecessary scuffles and you'd be compensated with monetary payment. he means to keep it superficially fun; for him to tease you with jests—so you'd stay and save him from the deafening silence in his head—and for you to dismiss him with that adorably annoyed look on your face. just some silly banter, that's it.

so then, since when are there rounds of poker where he'd coo over your frown when you lost? or the sound of your lecturing after he secretly got you a high-end item? or meals shared together where you'd bicker over the bill? or bandages in your favorite color kept inside his bedside table? since when do you start to care? . . .since when does he start to care?

think of something else.

kakavasha tosses and turns in his bed, but the soft pillows and blanket do nothing to quell these bothers of his. are feelings always this complicated? he places a hand over his eyes, tired and exhausted, and stares at the ceiling as if it could provide him with an answer.

but there's no use.

in a moment void of logical thinking, he reaches for his phone and hovers a finger over your name in his contacts. he is usually good friends with bad ideas – but not this time, he sets his phone down and lets out a frustrated sigh that only his expensive pillows are there to hear.

(for gaiathra's sake, he hasn't even told you his real name yet.)

aventurine who becomes awfully distant the next time he sees you. you accompany him to meetings with clients per usual, but it's different. . . he talks to you succinctly, not verbosely with that trademark grin of his. his face is bereft of the things you grow to like seeing on him. a sincere smile instead of one just for show, for example. but even that's difficult to ask for since he only speaks to fill the silence with empty chatter. he doesn't look you in the eyes either; you feel a pang of hurt, you've always loved his eyes.

aventurine who discards all thoughts of you as soon as he steps inside pier point to be assigned a project. a conclave between the stonehearts is a matter of top confidentiality and you, dutifully, are ordered to wait for him outside the office. though, he'll admit; your absence by his side actually does leave a gaping void—such hypocrisy, really—but at least, those pesky voices in his head know how to shut up when it comes to work.

“penacony. . . is diamond finally ready to do something about it?”

aventurine rests his left hand on the small of his back, fiddling with the clubs-shaped detailing on the fabric there. it looks like an act of idleness from afar, but anyone observant enough would know it's a way to subdue whatever nerves he wishes to hide.

he waits for the person in front of him, gazing at the purplish-red sky of pier point at sunset, to speak. for their next words shall mark the start of his next journey in fate's course.

aventurine who hesitates to let you come to penacony with him at first. but it'd be poor reasoning not to, since some might have a bone to pick with him as the corporation's representative. . . and he knows you'll protest to come with anyway. fine then, situationship discomfiture be damned – not even a second after he steps out of the meeting, his neon eyes finally meet yours. “so, how does a trip to penacony sound?” he announces with a confident smile. you blink, noticing how his lips are wobbling at the sides. you don't say no, however. (if only the two of you know what sort of ride you're getting yourselves into.)

— thanks for reading! reblogs with comments are most appreciated. why don't we all sob over this man like it's a cryfest ♡

#hsr x reader #aventurine x reader #—stellaronhvnters.#honkai star rail x reader #aventurine x you #hsr headcanons #hsr imagines #hsr fluff #hsr angst #seelestial.inks #gambler & knight 🎲

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zhelin-thames · 2 months ago

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A Second Mystery Texter

Masterpost

Jason was sprawled on the couch in his safe house, phone in hand, casually texting Danny. Their conversations had become oddly entertaining for Jason, who enjoyed poking fun at the kid’s dramatic descriptions of ghostly chaos and the soap opera-worthy antics of this “Plasmius” guy.

Jason: So let me get this straight. This guy tried to clone you... and the clone ended up being a teenage girl who sees herself as your sister?

Danny: Yup. That’s Dani with an “i.” She’s great, though. Way less annoying than Plasmius.

Jason: Your life is so weird, kid. And this is coming from someone who’s been dunked in a Lazarus Pit.

Danny: Tell me about it. At least you don’t have to deal with green glowing homework.

Jason chuckled at Danny’s response, completely unaware that Tim had entered the room and was now leaning over his shoulder, curious about the smirk on Jason’s face.

“Who are you texting?” Tim asked, startling Jason.

Jason locked his phone and glared at his younger brother. “None of your business.”

“Come on,” Tim said, plopping down on the armrest. “You’re actually smiling. That’s rare. Who’s the unlucky person stuck dealing with you?”

Jason rolled his eyes. “Just a kid who texted me by mistake. He’s dealing with some ghostly billionaire nonsense, and it’s hilarious.”

Tim’s interest was immediately piqued. “Ghostly billionaire nonsense? That doesn’t sound like your usual crowd. Let me see.”

Jason pulled his phone away. “No.”

Tim smirked. “Fine. I’ll figure it out myself.”

Jason sighed, knowing Tim wouldn’t let it go. Sure enough, an hour later, Tim’s phone buzzed with a new number.

Tim: Hi, is this Danny?

Danny squinted at the unfamiliar number.

Danny: Who’s asking?

Tim: I’m a friend of Jason’s. He mentioned your situation, and I got curious. I’m Tim.

Danny groaned. Great, another Bat-person.

Danny: Okay, hi, Tim. Why are you texting me?

Tim: I heard you’re dealing with some supernatural problems, and I wanted to help. Or at least get more details. Jason’s not exactly a reliable narrator.

Danny sighed, already regretting this.

Danny: Supernatural stuff is my thing. I’ve got it handled.

Tim: Sure, but you could always use a second opinion, right? I’m great with tech, research, and problem-solving. Plus, I’ve seen some weird stuff myself.

Danny hesitated. He wasn’t used to people offering help, and he didn’t know if he wanted another vigilante involved in his life.

Danny: Fine. What do you want to know?

Tim grinned as he began typing.

Over the next few days, Danny found himself juggling texts from both Jason and Tim. Jason was the sarcastic big-brother type, constantly making jokes about Danny’s weird life, while Tim bombarded him with questions about ghost science, ectoplasm, and portals.

One night, as Danny lay in bed, his phone buzzed again.

Tim: Quick question: Have you ever dealt with a ghost that manipulated tech?

Danny: Yeah. Why?

Tim: Just wondering. If one showed up in Gotham, what would you recommend?

Danny frowned, sitting up.

Danny: Wait. Is there a ghost in Gotham right now?

Jason: Tim, what the hell are you doing?

Tim: Expanding our resources. Danny’s clearly experienced.

Danny: Guys, what’s going on?!

Jason sighed, grabbing his phone.

Jason: Don’t worry, kid. If anything shows up here, we’ll handle it.

Danny: Yeah, no. If it’s ghost stuff, you call me. Don’t mess with things you don’t understand.

Tim: Good to know. Can I ask about your portal tech next?

Danny groaned. This was going to be a long friendship.

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fuckincrow · 1 year ago

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Olfactophilia

summary: You're dating Homelander and he's horny for your scent, pretty much porn without plot. AFAB reader, gender neutral.

warnings: homelander is a warning on his own, dubcon, scent kink, somnophilia, homelander is a pervert, dry humping, oral (fem receiving), established relationship, canon homelander behaviour

┈┈┈┈┈◦•✩•◦┈┈┈┈┈

Homelander was not a good partner. One could hardly call him a boyfriend, whatever your endeavor with him was did not seem like a normal relationship. It was scary, you were scared of him, knowing he was at the verge of a homicidal tantrum on most days. And despite this, the only times you had witnessed his anger had been directed at others. A fellow supe, an unlucky intern, maybe Ashley. Mostly Ashley, you always thought that woman deserved a raise. But his feelings toward you were... different. It wasn't a normal kind of love, more of a dependency. You saw it in his eyes whenever you touched him, that slight shift of expression, the way his muscles tensed up and his breathing became ever so slightly faster. Maybe that was part of the allure, the fact you could render this monster useless with a few caresses and honeyed words. As long as he didn't realise how weak he actually was for you, you'd be fine.

You never liked sleeping in his penthouse, it was too much. The American memorabilia was almost comical, although you'd never commented on it, knowing it would probably upset him. It was hard to get in the mood when you felt George Washington staring at you, but Homelander's passion proved enough distraction. The sole reason you were in his bed was because he'd been extra needy lately, eventually you got tired of him showing up at your house unannounced, so you simply caved and temporarily moved to the Tower.

As you try to get some rest, you feel a cool breeze hit the back of your neck, followed by the silent pitter patter of his feet against the carpet, like a cat sneaking back home. He always took the window, he thought he was being stealthy when he flied in, but he always managed to wake you. Sometimes you wondered if he did it on purpose. The next thing you feel was the warmth of his body against your back, the padded suit kind of uncomfortable against whatever skin your pyjamas left exposed, it was like he was glued to that thing. In fact, you had only seen him fully naked once or twice. Since you don't hear any greeting, you assume he thinks you're asleep, and so you did just that; go back to sleep.

★・・・・・・★ ・・・・・・★ ・・・・・・★

You were so close, too close. He never could get enough of it. Homelander moves to rest his nose against your neck, sniffing your skin. You hadn't showered tonight, just how he liked it. His enhanced senses only made him get a bigger enjoyment out of your natural musk, specially in the summer, when sweat built up under your armpits, under your breasts, the bases of your feet. "(Name)?" He calls out in a soft voice, testing the waters. No answer. After a few moments, he slowly removes his gloves, carefully placing them on the night table. His hand sneaks on top of your waist, a fairly normal gesture, but it slowly travels upward. His fingers travel over your armpit, collecting some sweat. For a moment he just stares at his two fingers, his breathing growing a little heavier just from the knowledge of what he's done. Not out of shame, you're his to do whatever he wants with after all, but the fact this scent he loves so much now coated his own skin. Homelander brings the two digits to his nose, taking a good, long sniff, and breathing out in pleasure. He could already feel the bulge straining against his suit, painfully uncomfortable. "Fuck..." He muttered, now fully pressing his crotch against the curve of your ass, his face buried in your neck like he was trying to inhale every last pheromone you exuded, his hips pathetically humping you from behind. He couldn't care less if you woke up right now, surprisingly self aware of how messed up he was for grinding against you like a dog, but he couldn't stop. Your smell drove him insane. It was your fault for laying in his bed like that, without having showered.

Nearly two minutes of this went on before you stopped pretending to sleep. You had caught onto every little move, it wasn't like you were going to stop him. If he was going to get off on your sweat so be it, you wouldn't be the one to risk one of his temper tantrums against you. What you didn't like was how close he was to your core, inevitably making you wet from the friction, which slowly got quicker as his huffs got louder.

"John."

The mention of his name, his real name, made his blood run cold. Homelander stopped completely, as if stopping his movement now would somehow make you forget what had been going on since he arrived. You turned around to look at him, his face was equally flustered and shameless. You knew him enough that his embarrassment didn't come from a place of morals or a general idea of consent, it was purely because you saw him as he was; needy. Human.

You slowly shift to face him properly, his lips are slightly parted as he looks at you with puppy dog eyes, if you didn't know any better you could've said he was being gentle. Your hand rakes through his blond curls and he nearly melts at the action, his breath briefly hitching when you tug down on them. The action is a command, one he understands immediately, and without the need for words he removes the sheets from your body and lowers your pyjama bottoms along with your underwear down to your ankles, his eagerness practically tears them apart (it wouldn't be the first time).

Homelander lived for moments like this one, the sight of your cunt in front of his face, the smell of your wetness invading his nostrils. For a moment he's left a little starstruck, running his fingers slickly up your hole, letting your fluid act as lubricant as he caresses your clit. The contact earns a little whimper from you, the sound making his stomach flip. He would've teased you for it, but he's not a patient man, and the moment he hears that little sound he's pressing his entire face against your mound, the death grip on your thighs keeping you fully spread. His tongue is fast, his nose hitting your clit whenever he moves, and slowly but surely your breaths become pants, whimpers and moans falling from your lips and only making him more eager. He doesn't bother hiding how he's rutting against the mattress, you believe he's doing it purely out of instinct. Your hips buck forward chasing friction, and a muffled groan from him sends perfect vibration up your core, tugging his hair in response.

You've orgasmed a few times and you're ready to ask him to stop now that you're satisfied when you hear a crack in his voice, followed by a long, drawn out moan and a shaky breath that follows suit. Your mind still a little foggy from the climax, you sit up to look at him. "John?" He simply looks up at you, panting a little, a warm and wet spot between his thighs. It takes you a moment to register the fact he's creamed his pants just from eating you out, and if you weren't this exhausted the thought alone would be enough to rile you up for round two.

"You're welcome." You say with a little grin, chuckling as he practically collapses against your chest, burying himself between your breasts and merely humming in response. Next time he'll just wake you.

#the boys #the boys amazon #the boys x reader #homelander #homelander smut #homelander x reader #john gillman

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heavysighing-dreamyeyes · 1 month ago

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Unsteady

You get hit on patrol. You go down hard. What happens after is a blur, but what you do know, is that you were never scared for a moment. ~ 2k words

A/N: I wanted to try a new format for my fics, so pictures! I'm not sure how I feel about it yet, tho, so I might change it again

Being a vigilante in Gotham has never been easy. Between the bullet wounds, secret societies, and their attempted brainwashing tactics, and the more than a little tricky partnerships you have to navigate, sometimes you wonder how you've managed to make it for so long.

Don't get it wrong, saving people, taking out criminals, making the streets a little bit safer, you thrive on it. You live for the moments where you feel invincible, shouting awful quips back and forth with whoever you're patrolling with. The seconds where a civilian grabs your hand, smiling and alive and relieved by how easily you've taken down their attackers.

You do good in Gotham, a city that always seems to lack it. And, even if there are dangers that come with it, you've never really minded the risk. At least, not since you've started patrolling with Red Hood.

You're not exactly sure how it started. One day, you spent your nights alone more often than not, and then one day, you didn't. You think it might have been the Falcone bust you worked on together, or maybe it was the trauma bonding over getting trapped and tangled in Ivy's latest strain of living, grabby plant traps together.

Whatever it was, more nights than not, Red Hood lingers at your side while you traverse rooftops, and you've found a routine in following him on his own patrols through Crime Alley and The Hill. What started as a tentative trust quickly built to a steady partnership.

You know which ankle he tends to roll if he lands on the pavement wrong. He knows which shoulder you tend to favor when Gotham gets cold. You know his favorite street food vendor and order by heart. He knows what safehouses you stash your preferred drinks and snacks in– and how often they need to be resupplied.

You both keep each other from being too reckless, and honestly, you don't think either of you have ever really had that. It's not either of you have stopped throwing yourself into fights where you're outnumbered (but never out matched), it's just that you're not alone doing it.

Red Hood– Jason– has your back the same way you have his. And it makes Gotham a little less terrifying. It makes patrol– the idea that one day a simple mistake could mean you don't come home– a little less burdensome.

You knew you relied on him, maybe a little too much if you thought too hard about it. You just didn't realize how much space you made for him until it was pointed out to you. Nightwing makes note of it first, teasing you for having an entire pouch on your utility belt dedicated to extra ammo magazines for Red Hood's gun. Robin notices it next, admonishing you for not checking your six during a fight, even if Jason was covering you.

You'd be embarrassed if Red Hood didn't have the same amount of faith in you as you did in him. He trusts you to take point on missions, believes you when you offer him tips and whispers of cases he's working on.

You try not to read too far into it, but how could you feel anything but special when he so willingly lets you wander Crime Alley at his side, and rarely anyone else? When he calls you his partner? Calls dibs on patrolling with you? How could you not revel in the fact that someone so big and capable and sure in himself relies on you?

But for all the trust and skill that exists between you and Red Hood, sometimes you get unlucky. Sometimes, all it takes is one misstep, one slow reaction, for it all to go wrong.

It was supposed to be easy, routine. Just a small group of thugs trying to break their way into the back alley entrance of a jewelry store. It was supposed to be simple– you were even having fun, holding back laughter at how quickly they seemed to fall to the ground with each well aimed kick and jab.

With Red Hood taking one end of the alley and you the other, you thought you had them surrounded, you didn't even consider that there were more people around the corner.

You didn't hear them come up behind you– more preoccupied with dodging a punch to your throat– when a loud crack sounds through the alley. You drop to your knees– ears ringing, bile rising in your throat, vision swimming.

The back of your head aches, and you know you're in danger, likely concussed. But you don't know what happened– was it a pipe? A bat? You know you need to move, but you can't get your body to listen, can't get yourself off of the ground as the world seems to tip and fade in and out as you heave.

You wait for the next hit, another burst of pain, but it never comes. There's shouting– gunshots maybe, you can't focus on it. You force your gaze up, and the colors and figures seem to blur into one nauseating sight.

You think you make out Red Hood, slamming one of the men into the ground. It's hard to process anything– to understand what you're seeing. Red Hood lurches towards you, or maybe he's just moving onto the next goon. Maybe he doesn't even know you're down.

You can't tell and maybe you should be scared. All it would take is one well aimed bullet to change everything. But you're not afraid. Even as black dots dance in your vision, even as your stomach churns and the noises that fill the alley seem pitched and garbled in your ears, you know that Red Hood will not let you die.

You think you see someone raising a bat to strike at you. You want to block, defend yourself, but your body feels too heavy to move. You squeeze your eyes shut instead, trying to quell the bile in your throat as you curl your fingers into fists, desperately trying to stop shaking, to ward off the cold sweats and pain that seem to be radiating on every inch of your skin.

You wait for the inevitable strike that will knock you clean into unconsciousness, but it still doesn't come. You lean forward, gasping for air as another wave of dizziness hits you, when gentle hands grab your shoulders, guiding you to straighten out again.

"Hey, hey," the familiar robotic voice washes over you, steady, if not a little anxious to the trained ear, "I've got you, open your eyes for me, sweet thing. Lemme see you."

You do, unable to do anything but listen. Bodies lay crumpled around you in the alley. You don't quite understand how he got to you so fast. He was on the other side of the alley, nearly a dozen men between the two of you, and it feels like he fought his way to your side within seconds. Maybe you had gone down longer– and harder– then you realized.

"There you are," He murmurs, carefully tilting your chin up to examine your face, he watches you for a moment, the way your breath doesn't quite seem to find a regular rhythm. He brushes his fingers over the back of your head next, feeling for any fractures in your skull.

He lets out a sigh of relief when he finds none, "Looks like it's just a concussion, some bruising. We'll get you back to the cave, make sure you're not bleeding, alright?"

You want to nod, but you think if you moved right now you think you'd throw up into his lap. Which would be mortifying. You also might be incredibly distracted by how close he is. It's not every day you get to admire the way his hair peeks out from under his hood, the set of his broad shoulders, the way the whites of his mask seem to glow in the shadows of the alley.

He's incredibly handsome in the Gotham moonlight.

And then he laughs, lowering his hand from the back of your head, "Thanks, doll. Think you can stand up on your own?"

Oh. Did you say that out loud? You didn't mean to. You furrow your eyebrows, trying to get the words you actually want to say off of your tongue, "M'fine," you mumble, narrowing your eyes in an attempt to get your world to stop spinning for a moment, to try and find your balance.

"You're slurring your words," he points out, hands finding your shoulders again as you pitch slightly to the side, "How's your head?"

"Hurts," You admit, giving up on your attempt to stand. You choose to admire him instead, the curve of his throat, the tilt of his jaw towards you.

"I bet," He mumbles, before falling silent, letting the moment linger just long enough for you to start to relax, lulled into a daze by your dizziness. "I'm going to carry you," he decides.

You don't get to protest, as if you're in the state to. He just maneuvers himself to your side, gently hooking one arm around your back, and the other under your knees to lift you to his chest.

A new wave of nausea runs down your spine, and you tuck your head into his shoulder, fingers curling against the red bat engraved into his armor, "Sorry" Jason mumbles, going still as he waits for your dizzy spell to pass, "Guess he got you good, huh?"

"Was my fault," you sigh out, closing your eyes as you nuzzle closer into the comfort of the crook of his neck, "Got complacent." It takes you longer than it should have to sound your syllables out, even longer to unstick your tongue from the roof of your mouth, but you think you manage to sound at least slightly coherent.

"Nah, sweetheart, it was mine," He lowers his voice even more as he talks, careful not to make your head ring anymore than it already is, to not jostle your injuries (and brain) and more than they already have, "I should have seen him. Should have warned you," he tells you, slowly and methodically carrying you out of the alley, away from the carnage he created.

If your eyes were open, you'd see exactly how driven he was to get to you– how he left bodies broken and mangled in his one purpose of protecting you. Instead, all you notice is the familiar smell of leather and gunpowder radiating from him.

You shake your head, "Red–" You cut off your own words with a wince, hiding your face deeper into his neck as your whole body seems to pound with pain. You really just want to tug his mask off, to listen to the way his voice dips to a soothing tenor without the modulator, to watch the way his eyes linger on your face, but you're quick to push the notion away, to blame it on your jumbled thoughts.

You suck in a breath as the nausea passes, "You're not responsible for my mistakes." You sound weaker than you mean to, words more slurred than you'd like, but you hope you get your point across.

His breathing seems to stutter in his chest for a moment, and his fingers dip a little tighter into divots of your amour, "Feels like it, though. I hate seeing you get hurt like this."

The confession should be heavy, but it just makes heat bloom straight from your heart, makes you lightheaded in all the best ways. You don't hide the smile that threatens to take over your face, "Yeah. Me too. About you, I mean." You hope that he understands, even if your words aren't as poetic or eloquent as you want them to be, you hope he knows what you're trying to say.

The tension seems to drain from his body at your words, and he lowers his head to press his mask to the top of your head, the mirror of a kiss. Both of you go quiet, basking in each other's touch– the rise and fall of your chest– alive– as your pain finally fades into a dull ache.

Later, you'll protest being taken off of patrol for two weeks. Later, you'll complain that Jason gets to take out the Two-Face shipment you've been planning for weeks. But for now, he's warm. He's holding you close. And there's nowhere safer for you than his arms.

#jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd #x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you

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springtyme · 1 year ago

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𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐀 𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲 ♡

afab!reader x König, Ghost, Price, Gaz, & Soap

warnings: Allusions to sex/sexual themes, some angst but mostly fluff, König picks reader up, unplanned pregnancy, references to Simon's past (I've tried to keep it very vague cause that is a really rough topic), implied ptsd, mention of painful (IUD-related) period cramps (18+ mdni!)

word count: 5k

part two

König ♡

Your hands instinctively find their way to König’s hair, as the kiss deepens, tangling your fingers in the soft strands as the intensity of the moment increases and the atmosphere around you grows more and more steamy. Despite your wish to fully emerge yourself in the euphoric feeling, something in the back of your mind keeps nagging at you.

You have all evening had an underlying feeling that you have forgotten something, but without being able to figure out what, but as König’s hand starts to wander downwards, grabbing a handful of your arse it dawns on you.

Condoms. You forgot to pick up condoms earlier…

You have recently gotten your IUD removed, due to heavy period cramps. You had hoped and believed that it would get better over time but it had seemed like you had been one of the unlucky ones for whom it just didn’t get any better.

You don’t regret your decision, your last period was way less painful than before, but after being on contraceptives and in a committed relationship for so long, you have still not gotten back into the habit of buying condoms again.

“Fuck…” You groan out as you curse yourself out for your forgetfulness.

“What’s the matter, meine Liebe?"

You sigh as you bury your face into his broad chest. He gently strokes your back and holds you closer. Taking a deep breath, you lift your head and meet his concerned gaze. “I forgot to pick up condoms earlier," you admit, your voice filled with frustration. “We're all out, and I didn't even realise until now.”

König's face softens, understanding the reason for your sudden frustration. He gently cups your face in his hands, his eyes filled with love and reassurance. “It's alright, Schatzi," he says, his voice calming. “We'll manage,” he lets out a low chuckle. “Besides, I'm skilled with my hands and mouth, no?”

You let out a sound, somewhere between a sigh and a chuckle, at his words. He is, truely, very skilled. But you have to admit that you haven’t been able to stop thinking about having him inside of you, to have him ravish you with his cock, all day. You’re currently ovulating, and like always, when you’re at this point of your cycle, your hornyness-level increases immensely.

“Yes, you are skilled, my love,” you assure him, “Very skilled, I had just hoped that I would have been able to ride you tonight without worrying about you cumming inside me. You confess, “I haven't been able to stop thinking about it all day,” you feel a tiny bit embarrassed by your blunt confession - but only a tiny bit. You don’t think that you ever could feel truly embarrassed about confessing anything like that to him, you are too comfortable with him, too secure in your relationship for that. That is one of the most beautiful things about your relationship with König. He makes you feel so loved and seen and protected. The way he can look at you and make you feel like you’re the only woman in the world.

You feel how he squeezes you a little tighter by your confession, but also how his bulge hardens even more by your words. The burning fire that has been smouldering in your abdomen the entire day is now fully ablaze, and you feel how your pulse is throbbing between your legs.

The thought of bouncing on König’s cock, of having his mouth buried between your legs, of having him on top of you, of cuming on his cock as he fills you up till you’re leaking with his release, infiltrates your mind.

“I’m not going to lie, that would have been nice to do, Schatz,” he says and you can only agree.

But before you can voice your agreement, König continues, his voice filled with a mix of vulnerability and determination.“Would it be so bad if we said screw it and did it anyway?”

Surprised by his suggestion, you pause, unsure of how to respond. The idea of not using protection has not been something you have seriously considered before. Curiosity gets the better of you, and you ask him, “What are you thinking?”

He takes a deep breath, his eyes filled with a mix of nerves and excitement as he meets your gaze. “I've been thinking a lot lately… Well, I have actually been thinking for a while now and I realised that I would really like to have a baby with you. That I’m ready to start a family together,” " he confesses, his eyes never leaving yours.

His words catch you a little off guard, and you feel a flurry of emotions rushing through you. The idea of becoming parents together is not something you have discussed yet, you take a moment to gather your thoughts before responding, “Having a baby is a big decision.”

“I know and I know that we haven’t talked or planned for this, and it may not be the ideal situation or timing, but… I can't help but want it, and I don’t know… this just feels like maybe it’s a sign.”

You're taken aback by König's revelation, a mix of surprise and uncertainty washing over you. However, his unwavering gaze and the love in his voice give you a sense of comfort and reassurance.

“I've seen how amazing you are with children,” he continues, his voice filled with warmth. “And I can't think of anyone else I'd want to start a family with. We may not have planned for it now, but I can’t help but want it.”

His words touch your heart, and you find yourself considering the idea. Despite the initial shock, a part of you has always known that you wanted to start a family with König, despite the two of you not having had a serious conversation about it yet.

As you take a moment to collect your thoughts, you realise that this situation could be an opportunity to grow together, to embark on a new chapter in your lives. You look into König's eyes, a mix of hope and determination shining within them.

Now that it’s said out loud, and you have seen the want and longing in Königs eyes, the idea of starting a family with him seems right, downright logical.

“Maybe you're right,” you say, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “Maybe it is a sign.”

König’s face lights up with joy, relief evident in his expression. He pulls you closer, his strong arms enveloping you with love and excitement. “Wirklich?!” His eyes now shining with unshed tears of joy.

“Yes, my love, really.” You grin up at him, before letting out a surprised shriek as you’re suddenly lifted from the ground.

König’s spinning you around as he lets out a deep laugh of pure excitement. You feel how tears start to form in your own eyes. You lock your legs around his torso as he finally stops spinning, your hands cupping his cheeks and your gaze finding his again.

“You really want a baby with me?” He whispers, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, the air filled with a thick tenderness.

“I do,” you assure him, before kissing him softly. “Let’s make a baby.” You whisper into his lips.

Ghost ♡

This isn’t happening…

This can’t be happening.

Simon doesn’t even know how to describe what he is feeling. Is shock a feeling? It doesn’t really matter–a feeling or not–shock is the only thing that he is feeling after the words have left your mouth. Or maybe, in reality, he is feeling so much all at once that shock is the only thing his overstimulated brain can register.

Simon has been in situations that would leave any other person in a state of paralysing shell shock, more times than he will ever be able to count, but he always finds himself able to push through it, but not this time. No, this is about the most petrified he has been in years.

His mind is running a hundred miles an hour and has gone completely blank at the same time as he tries to process what you just told him. He finally manages to pull himself somewhat out of his trance and his eyes finally find yours again.

The look on your face pains him, and what pains him, even more, is the knowledge that he is the reason that you are pulling that face. His instincts, the protective side of him, scream to take you into his arms and comfort you but he is still too paralysed by the situation to do so.

“Ar-are you sure?” He manages to say, his voice cracking. He sounds uncharacteristically frail, the usual husky gruff of his voice weakened.

“I took three tests, Simon…” You say.

He just nods as the reality of the situation fully hits him, he feels how his heart sinks as he absorbs the weight of your words. The room feels suffocating, as if the walls are closing in on him. He takes a shaky breath, desperately attempting to maintain the little composure he had managed to gain.

“And you really want to keep it..?” He hates how the words sound as soon as they leave his mouth. You don’t deserve this reaction, but he had never thought he would be in this situation.

It has always been a secret wish of his, a wish he knew he never would be deserving of getting granted. It would be too pure, too good for someone like him. But it has not kept him from secretly dreaming about it. All those late nights over the years when he has laid in his bunk on employment and couldn’t sleep, with no distractions other than his own head. On nights like those, he has let his mind wander, let his imagination run wild, and dreamt about it. Something wholesome and good, so different from the stress and terrors that come with his line of work.

On the worst nights when the nightmares keep him up or the adrenaline just won’t leave his body and let him get any rest, he lets himself indulge in the fantasy. It used to be more vague, but after he had met you they got clearer, more evident, almost tangible, which had scared the shit out of him. The fantasy of someday having a family of his own, of getting a chance to do everything right, of doing it differently from how he grew up himself.

But that was all it ever was, all it ever could be, a fantasy… How could it ever be anything else?! How could someone like him ever be a good dad? It was a thing that might not be that unrealistic of a wish if he was anyone else but himself.

He is too broken for that, has seen and experienced too much fucked up shit, and committed too many sins. But, fuck, now that it is actually within reach actually a real possibility he can’t help but yearn for it, even though it scares him shitless.

“I know that we have never discussed this and that it was nowhere near planned and I’m sorry if this fucks up everything between us but…” You trail off, nervously fidgeting with your sleeve, your eyes have left him, as you chew on as you take a shaky breath as if you’re gathering courage to continue, “I think I want this, Simon,” you finally say, your voice low and shaky, close to a whisper, but you take another breath, this one deep and certain, as you again lock your eyes with his, “I want this baby, Simon.”

Your eyes shine with a certainty that sends a rush through Simon’s entire body. You want this baby… His baby. It is like the entire world stops, a whirlwind of emotions runs through him in this moment and he can’t deny it anymore. He wants it too. He wants this baby, to become a family, to be the man that he always secretly has dreamed of being.

“I want it too,” He is still trembling slightly but a tone of determination has returned to his voice.

“You do..?” Your voice close to a whisper, but a hopeful tone lacing the unsurety.

“Yes,” and he does, he really does. “I want to be a family.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Don’t get me wrong, I’m scared shitless, but I do want this, sweetheart,” he reaches out a trembling hand towards you, wanting to offer some form of comfort, and to reassure you that he means what he is saying, “I really do.”

“I love you, Simon,” your beautiful eyes now shining with happy tears, “so, so much.”

“I love you too.” His protective instincts fully resurfacing, overriding his initial fear. He pulls you into a tender embrace, holding you tightly against his chest. “And I already love our kid too,” he adds, as he squeezes you a little tighter, protectively holding you in his strong arms. You and the child you’re barring, his child.

His own father had fucked him up so severely, taken so much from him, but this is not something his father will be able to take. As terrified and scared as he might be Simon knows, in this moment with you in his arms, that he will do everything to not become his father and that he will do anything to keep you and your unborn child safe, that he will make sure that they will grow up to know nothing but love and security and that he will do everything in his power to make sure that you never are gonna regret having him as the father of your child.

Simon's heart swells with a newfound determination. He knows it won't be easy, that there will be challenges and sacrifices along the way, but he is ready to face them head-on. He has spent years battling his demons and overcoming his past, and now he has a reason to fight even harder - for you, for his family.

Price ♡

As you sit across from John in your usually so cosy living room, you can't help but notice the nervous energy radiating from him. You’ve noticed a change in your husband's behaviour lately, and it's left you feeling puzzled and a bit concerned. John’s been acting distant, withdrawn and you can't help but worry that something might be wrong with him, that there might be something he isn’t telling you which is so out of character for him.

Unable to bear the uncertainty any longer you take in a deep breath, you have been gathering up the courage all day to confront him.

“Jonathan?” You say, voice close to a whisper, but still strong enough to be heard clearly. He removes his eyes from his book, in which he has been staring down into for the last thirty minutes without turning a page, seemingly without reading a single word. “Is everything okay? You seem different lately, and it’s been making me worried. Can you please tell me what’s going on?”

His gaze shifts between you and the floor. Sensing that something important is about to be revealed, you lean in closer, waiting for him to speak.

John hesitates for a moment, his eyes filled with a mix of emotions. “I'm sorry for acting distant. It's just that... I've been feeling nervous about something important, and I didn't know how to bring it up."

Your heart races as you anxiously wait for him to continue. "What is it?" you ask, a mixture of anticipation and concern in your voice.

“Darling,” he begins, his voice filled with both excitement and trepidation. He takes a deep breath, gathering his thoughts before continuing. “I've been thinking a lot lately, about our future, about the life we’ve built together."

Your heart skips a beat, you feel a little pang of fear in your chest but you’re also curious to know where he’s going with this. “What is it, John?” you ask, your voice filled with anticipation.

“love, I think I want to try for a baby.”

The words hang in the air for a moment, and your mind races to process the magnitude of what he's just said. A rush of emotions floods through you – surprise, joy, and a hint of uncertainty. You’ve dreamt of having a family with John, but the thought of bringing a child into the world amidst the challenges and uncertainties of his military career has always given you pause.

You take a moment to collect your thoughts, reaching out to hold his hand for support. "John, I…" you begin, your voice filled with a mix of emotions. "I've always imagined us having a family, but I worry about the dangers you face, the time we'd have to spend apart."

John's grip on your hand tightens, his eyes filled with determination. "I understand your concerns, darling, and they are valid. But we've faced countless challenges together, and we’ve always persevered. I believe we can navigate this journey too."

His words resonate deep within you, reminding you of the strength and resilience you both possess. You find yourself nodding, a smile tugging at your lips. “You're right, John. We have overcome so much, and I believe we can face this too.”

The relief and joy that washes over John’s face is palpable. He pulls you into a warm embrace, holding you tightly as if never wanting to let go. “Thank you, darling,” he whispers, his voice filled with gratitude. “I promise, I'll do everything in my power to protect our family, to be there for you and our future child.”

In this moment, as you hold each other tightly, you realise that together, you can face anything that comes your way. The journey ahead will be filled with uncertainties, but with love as your anchor, you know that you and John are ready to embark on this new adventure – the adventure of parenthood, embracing the joys and challenges that lie ahead, hand in hand.

Together, you begin to discuss your hopes, dreams, and plans for the future. And as the evening unfolds, you find solace in the knowledge that love, support, and a shared vision will guide you through whatever lies ahead on this new and exciting path.

Gaz ♡

You wake up to the sound of your alarm blaring in your ears. Groggily, you reach over to turn it off, but as you do, you feel a sense of excitement bubbling within you. Today is the day Kyle is coming home from deployment for a short visit. It has been months since you last saw him, and the anticipation of seeing him again fills you with a mix of nervousness and pure joy.

You get ready quickly, making sure everything is perfect for his arrival. The butterflies in your stomach flutter wildly as you make your way to the airport. Finally, you spot Kyle standing amongst the sea of people, his eyes scanning the crowd. As soon as he sees you, a wide smile spreads across his handsome face, and you can't help but match his enthusiasm. You run towards each other, embracing tightly, cherishing this precious moment as you kiss each other deeply.

Over the next few days, you spend every moment together, catching up on all the missed conversations and stolen kisses. It feels like time has stood still, and the world revolves solely around the two of you. But one evening, as you're cuddled up on the couch, a casual conversation takes an unexpected turn.

Kyle's arm is wrapped around your shoulder, his voice low and comforting as he recounts some of the experiences he had while deployed. He talks about the sacrifices made and the hardships endured, his eyes filled with a mix of sadness and determination. In a moment of vulnerability, he accidentally says, "I hope our kids never have to go through any of that."

You freeze, the weight of his words hanging heavily in the air. The two of you have never discussed having children before, and the mention of it catches you off guard. mind races, trying to process his words. You turn to face him, searching his eyes for answers.

Kyle’s eyes widens with embarrassment as he realises what he just said. You can tell that he hadn’t meant to blurt out his thoughts so suddenly. He takes a deep breath, gathering his thoughts before he speaks. “I’m sorry, I've just been thinking a lot about thre future lately, you know, about what I want in life and all. And despite our age, despite everything going on, I can't help but imagine a family with you.” Kyle confesses, reaching out, his hand gently caressing yours. “I don't want to rush anything. But I want you to know that I genuinely see a future with you. I can't imagine a life without you by my side.”

His honesty touches your heart, and you can’t help but smile, feeling a warmth spread throughout your body. You take his hand in yours, intertwining your fingers, the sudden image of a beautiful little baby with Kyle’s eyes looking up at you is filling your head, “Kyle, I honestly never imagined having this conversation now, but I can’t deny that the idea of starting a family with you is really tempting. We may be young, but if we’re together, I believe we can face anything.”

Kyle’s face lights up with relief and happiness. He pulls you closer, his embrace tighter than before. In that moment, you both realise that the love between you knows no limits, and that sometimes, life has a way of surprising you when you least expect it.

You know that this unexpected conversation has opened the door to a new chapter in your relationship, one that holds the promise of a beautiful future.

Soap ♡

You sink into the soft pillows with a content sigh, getting comfortable under the soft covers. You and Johnny had attended a family gathering at his parent’s house and now that you’re finally home and in bed you begin to reminisce about the day, recalling your favourite moments, the cheerful atmosphere that had filled the air, the delicious home cooked food and all the laughs and easy going conversations.

But one conversation had taken you a little aback, a comment made by one of Johnny’s relatives had stuck with you. You know that it had been meant in good humour but it had weighed on you. You had tried to push it aside but now that you’re home the words keep ringing through your mind. You ponder over what had been said to you but you’re pulled out of your thoughts as the bedroom door creaks open.

Johnny enters the room, a gentle smile on his face. In his hands, he holds a glass of cool, refreshing water. He knows you well, understands the little things that bring you comfort. A wider smile appears on his face as he approaches the bed and offers you the glass, his blue eyes filled with tenderness and care as he lets out a low laugh. “Can’t believe Rob’s having another boy!” He gently shakes his head from side to side. You had learned earlier in the day that Johnny was having yet another nephew.

You take the water from him, feeling the coolness of the glass against your palm as you smile up at him. The gesture touches your heart, a reminder of his thoughtfulness and love. Taking a sip of the water, you feel a sense of rejuvenation wash over you, as if his kindness has quenched not only your physical thirst but also your emotional weariness.

As you set the glass aside, Johnny slips into bed beside you, his presence a soothing balm to your soul. You snuggle closer to him, feeling the warmth of his body radiating against your skin. His touch is gentle, his embrace a source of comfort and security.

“Yeah, seems like boys just run in the family.” You smile up at him.

Johnny chuckles and jokingly comments, “You know, I think mam secretly hoped it would be a girl this time. I think she's secretly always wanted a wee girl to spoil since she only got sons.”

“Well, Hannah seemed rather serious when she told me that this kid will be their last.” You chuckle as you recall the conversation you had had earlier with Johnny’s sister in law. But the topic also again makes you recall the comment said to you earlier by Johnny’s aunt.

It had been amidst the cheerful atmosphere, when the news about Rob and Hannah expecting another boy had broken. The news seemed to ripple through the room, prompting everyone to offer their congratulations. You couldn't help but notice a sly smile from Johnny's aunt as she turned to you and said, "Well, now it's up to you and Johnny to bring a baby girl into the family!"

You had blinked from surprise, caught off guard by her comment. The weight of her words settled on your shoulders as you realised that the expectation for a future child had somehow fallen on you and Johnny. You had looked over at him, he was in the other end of the living room playing with his two young nephews. You couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of love and admiration for him by the sight of them. Seeing him interact with those little boys, his blue eyes twinkling with joy and his deep laughter filling the air. But you also felt very put on the spot. "I... uh," you had stammered, searching for the right words. "We haven't really talked about all that yet."

Aunt Maggie chuckled softly, patting your arm. "Well, dear, there's no rush. But I'm sure everyone here would love to have a wee lass in the family someday and I’m sure you and Johnny would do a great job."

Her words had lingered in your mind for the rest of the day. You didn’t know if you should mention it to Johnny or not, you have no idea how he will react. But now as the two of you are in the secure atmosphere of your own bedroom you think that you might should.

You take a deep breath, gathering the courage to bring up the topic that has been weighing on your mind all day. As you snuggle closer to Johnny, feeling the warmth of his embrace, you softly say, "Johnny, there's something I wanted to talk to you about."

He looks at you with concern in his eyes, sensing the seriousness of your tone. "What is it, love?" he asks gently, his fingers tracing soothing circles on your back.

You hesitate for a moment, unsure of how to begin. Finally, you gather your thoughts and speak from your heart. "It’s just… Maighread made a comment about us having a baby girl to balance out all the boys…”

Johnny's eyes widen slightly, surprise evident on his face. He takes a moment to process your words

"Wait, she really said that?" Johnny's surprise is evident on his face as he takes a moment to process your words. He gently moves closer to you, his fingers still tracing soothing circles on your back. “I’m sorry if that made you uncomfortable, love. I guess my family has a tendency to be a little too brash sometimes.” He says in an apologetic tone.

“It’s okay, I love your family, it just caught me a little off guard I guess,” you assure him, placing your palm on his cheek, gently stoking your thumb over the rough stubbles of his beard. A long silence breaks out between you, both absorbing what had just been said between you.

But Johnny finally breaks the silence. “It isn’t a terrible thought though," he whispers, his voice filled with a mixture of excitement, nerves and tenderness.

You pause for a moment, taking in Johnny's words, honesty and vulnerability shines from his eyes.

“No, it isn’t,” you finally say, finally letting yourself imagine it without any sense of fear or doubt about what Johnny would think of it. The idea of him holding a little girl, makes a smile tug at the corner of your mouth, and you suddenly feel like you’re about to cry. Just earlier today the idea seemed scary to you since you and Johnny never have talked about children, but now as you look into his eyes, your smile mirrored on his face, you aren’t that scared anymore.

“It’s actually a little weird that she said that, because earlier when I was playing with Noah and Oliver I couldn’t help but imagine us having a wean of our own… It’s actually something I’ve been thinking about for a while now..."

Your heart skips a beat at his confession, the weight of his words sinking in. You can see the sincerity in his eyes, and a wave of emotions washes over you. “Really?” you ask softly, your voice filled with a mix of joy and curiosity. “You want a baby with me..?”

“Yeah, I really do, love," he says softly.

"I think I would like that,” you say, your voice filled with sincerity. Johnny smiles, his eyes reflecting his love for you.

You lean in and press a gentle kiss to his lips, feeling the connection between you deepen. In that moment, you both know that this conversation is just the beginning of a new chapter in your lives. It's a chapter filled with love, hope, and the possibility of bringing a new life into the world. As you both cuddle in the warmth of each other's embrace, you feel a sense of peace and excitement wash over you. The weight of Aunt Maggie's comment no longer lingers heavily on your shoulders. Instead, it's been replaced with the knowledge that you and Johnny are on the same page.

With a renewed sense of love and purpose, you close your eyes and drift off to sleep, knowing that the future holds endless possibilities for you and Johnny, both as a couple and as future parents.

Part two

7K notes · View notes

whimsyprinx · 2 years ago

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do you think we suffer for the same reasons our ocs do, any gods out there are venting their feelings through us in order to feel better?

#whimsy whispers #another night of me trying to rationalize why I suffer #idk maybe I’d be less resentful if this were the case #I do this to my creations and if there’s a god doing this to me because it helps them feel better then maybe that would be okay?#but also like how would I possibly know if that’s how any of this works #every day I have a new reason to blame my suffering on #the universe hates me god is laughing at my suffering I’ve been cursed since birth or maybe i was a bad person in some past life and this is #my punishment for that #anything to make everything make sense and idk give me something to blame #because im aware a lot of my problems are my own fault but not everything is #ofc the more realistic answer is just that the world is bad in so many ways and I simply wasn’t raised in a great way but idk thinking that #cosmic karma and divine intervention played some role makes it easier for me to come to terms with #plus it’s better than ‘some people are just unlucky some people jsut suffer’ because that’s unfair #at least with the other prompts im serving some sort of purpose #if im suffering for amusement or an outlet for pain or to make up for some kind of sin I feel less mad and bitter #but like i already said im just being dumb #sometimes life just sucks for no special reason

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luveline · 1 year ago

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maybe a bombshell!reader where she is OBSESSED with touching and making out with glasses!reid and he is so confused why she is always all over him. i think bc he never went thru that horny teenage phase, or even the "honeymoon" phase of a relationship, he doesnt quite understand why she is acting that way (not that he's complaining)

tysm for requesting ♡ fem, 1k

There's something soft under Spencer's cheek. His lashes brush against it like the wing of a trapped butterfly as he wakes, his fatigue a weight on his tongue. He wonders where he is for a worrying moment, hand stretched out to feel the couch cushions beneath him.

The sounds of you reach him from down the hall. The crinkling of your coat set up on a hook near the door, the squeak of your shoes on hardwood, and the familiar lilt of your voice as you sigh, speaking to yourself in quiet tones, "Unlucky."

He rubs his eyes and sits up. "What's unlucky?" he asks, his throat burning. He must've been sleeping open-mouthed, which is perfect. Attractive, he thinks scathingly. He's less annoyed and more disgusted when he feels the dried drool in the corner of his mouth.

You don't answer him. Spencer forces his tired eyes to work, sitting up on knees on the couch to try and get a look at you. He can't see into the kitchen from here, to his dismay, but he can hear the contents of your fridge door clinking together.

You turn the corner with a bottle of water in your hands. When you see him waiting for you your smile bumps up a notch, pretty to cataclysmic, world-ending and life-ruining, all manner of awful as you hurry down the hall in your socks to kiss him.

Why you'd want to is anyone's guess. He can imagine how he looks, curls matted at the back and frizzy at the sides. Spencer can't help cringing as your fingers weave into the hair at the nape of his neck, your lips a soft pressure against his for a few more blissful seconds.

You pull back concisely. "You fell asleep?" Your hand comes up, your thumb rubbing gently at his nose bridge. With your other hand, you press the bottle of water to his shoulder. "With your glasses on?"

He nods in defeat. If he didn't look like a mess, if he hadn't face planted into your fancy couch in his rumpled jeans, even if he were at his best, he's still hopeless, because they messed up his contacts again. You're vocally fond of them even if he hates them.

"I remember the first time I saw you without them," you say, your kind thumb moving to rub a fond quarter circle into his cheek. "You were," —you steal a kiss, your nose pressed to his, pulling back and pushing in between words— "chasing the tail of that movie star." Kiss, kiss. He loses his grip on the water in favour of your arm. "You looked," —your kisses turn melty warm and impossibly softer— "so, so shy."

You pull away to card his hair back. Not particularly gentle but never cruel, you rake his curls out of his face swiftly. "How come you never get shy with me?"

"Don't pretend I never did," he says. It's embarrassing but it happened.

"Fine, you did." You tuck his hair behind his ears. "Not as often as everyone thought you would."

"You were kidding. Or, I confidently thought you were kidding. I could write it off as a joke, pity–"

His timidity with you rose and fell and rose again. These days it simmers, waiting for you to surprise him or tease him or do as you're doing now, rounding the couch to push at him until he sits. You ease into his lap, mostly off of him, a knee to his right and a knee between his legs as your arms circle his back. He's quick to hug you rather than have you slip backward out of his arms.

"I never pitied you," you say, kissing him again, no signs of stopping. "Don't say that. It's not true. I saw you were a catch before anyone else did, that's all."

Spencer can't argue with you. He's honestly not interested, distracted by your weight and the heat of your lips as they part against his. To go back and tell the Spencer from a year ago that his bombshell of a coworker, the one who flirts with a sticky charmed smile, who sits on the lip of his desk making eyes at him, and who never takes the easy blows, wasn't joking? It would stunt his brain. It might send him into a cardiac episode.

To tell him that she's in his lap more often than not?

Spencer's lucky to be alive. He laughs as he thinks it, his stomach stirring while you scratch carefully at his scalp.

"What?" you ask, voice a stretched murmur, close enough to husky to wind him. "Tickles?"

"No," he says, "nothing, it's nice."

He's greedy and a total amateur, pulling your face back down to his in hopes of sparking another heavy kiss. You're enticed for a bit, but Spencer knows his laugh is bothering you, so he steals a last rough kiss before dropping his forehead into your cheek.

You pet his neck softly. "What, Spence?"

"It's just unreal, sometimes. It's weird." He can't hide, his glasses jabbing into his eye.

When he lifts his head, you breathe out a laugh and take the glasses from his nose. You fold them, set them carefully on the couch beside you, and meet his gaze fondly. Your lashes kiss in the corners with your smile, pretty lips a balmed pout. He can feel the waxy transfer your kisses have left on his own lips and the skin around them. You're enthusiastic.

"What's weird?" you ask.

"How much you like me."

"Have you ever heard of the honeymoon phase?"

"The romance feeling very intense at the start of a relationship until we're used to one another," he answers.

"Right. Well, I'm used to you. I intend on honeymooning with you until you die. And you're in your prime, sweetheart, so…" You lean in with your head tilted heavily to the side, pausing with your lips only just touching his. "You'll have to get used to it," you whisper, waiting.

Spencer kisses upward slowly. You sigh into his mouth, double when he paws at the small of your back and squeezes you close to his chest, thankful you took off his glasses.

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