Kinktober Day 8 - Breeding
John Price x Reader - 1k (on ao3)
summary: You worry that your boss sees your relationship as more long-term than you do. (Reader POV, second person)
cw: implied stealthing, under negotiated breeding kink, one-sided daddy kink
You tell yourself it’s just a kink.
You’re not ready to become a mother - you’d like to be married for at least a year before even trying for a baby, and you’d like to have an established career before even getting married. For you, the idea of a bun in the oven is so far down the line it’s not even visible on the horizon yet.
But you know it’s not the same for Price. He’s older than you, has lived a far wilder life and lost it what must be nearly a dozen times over. He’s a weathered man, with deep lines on his forehead and wrinkles around his eyes, just the tiniest hint of silver creeping into his beard.
You know it’s not smart to have a fling with him. Not only is he your boss and a controversially older man, but he’s also the exact opposite of a commitment-phobe like you. He’s always looking for more commitment in fact, something you hadn’t expected considering the illicitness of your relationship with him.
You'd assumed an affair with your boss would involve mostly quickies in closets, a refusal to be in the same room as one another during the workday, maybe even pretending to dislike each other around other coworkers. Instead, he talks to you more once you start sleeping together than he had before - he parks himself on your desk at any time he pleases, invites you to have lunch in his office with him (alone), and laughs when your co-workers call him your work-husband.
So you know that he wants more, that he wants you to really be with him (he hints at far more than just that, but doesn’t dare say it aloud, which you’re glad for) past just being his secretary and his fuckbuddy.
In fact, he’d nearly torn you into two when you’d giggled and called him a “bootycall” after he called you back into work hours after you’d gone home. His face had gone from eager and affectionate to what you can only call scolding, and he’d been rougher with you than normal. You enjoy a few smacks to your ass, but that night he’d spanked you hard enough to leave you squirming the next morning when you sat at your desk. You’d been pouty about it, had glared only half-playfully at him when he smirked, but the way he ate you out on his desk for lunch more than made up for the discomfort.
And he makes these… comments sometimes, while he’s buried inside you. Things that allude to a future you’re not ready for.
Gotta come after me, sweetheart, it takes better like that.
Hips up, don’t let any of me drip out.
Gonna make me a daddy, pretty thing? Huh? Gonna take my cum and grow me a baby?
My good fuckin’ girl, lettin’ me breed her pretty cunt.
Gonna look so pretty, all round for me. Gonna take such good care of you.
C’mon, honey, wanna make sure it sticks this time.
You tell yourself it’s just a kink. He plugs you up with a couple fingers once he’s finished, says “Just to make sure you don’t lose any of my cum, can’t be wastin’ it right now,” and licks your clit until your legs shake.
He hardly fucks you in any position that isn’t bent over his desk, no matter how much you whine and beg for me. He just smacks your ass, gives you an extra orgasm or two to keep you placated. More often than not he leaves you bent over the desk after he’s finished, tilts your hips up a little higher and gives you a kiss on the temple as he sits back in his seat to get back to work.
You’d told him to use a condom the first few times, even though you’ve been on birth control for years. You’ve always been responsible with flings, been more than willing to send a man packing at the first hint of whining if he didn’t want to wear protection. A baby has never once crossed your mind as an option, and it certainly doesn't now.
So it was instinct to tell Price to put on a condom before he fucked you the first time. And he had, without kicking up any fuss about it past a furrowed brow and a grumble or two.
But then the condom broke, and you were left with his cum dripping down your thighs. You’d had a moment of panic, but he’d given you money for Plan B, and you told yourself the odds of getting pregnant with Plan B and birth control were so low it wasn’t worth stressing out over.
The condom broke the second time. And the third. And the fourth. And the fifth. And every time after that you asked him to wear one.
At some point you stopped asking, and he never remembered himself. A few muttered questions about what brand he’d been using between fevered kisses, thick fingers at your cunt a distraction, and eventually you told yourself it wouldn’t matter as long as you kept taking the birth control pills.
It would be rude to demand Plan B after every round, right? Plus, asking for cash minutes after you'd both gotten off always made you feel a bit... dirty. When you feel him drip down your thighs, when you pull your panties up and feel the mixture of both of you gather there, you tell yourself that the birth control will surely do it's job, and you try not to worry.
Now, pulling open the drawer where you keep your pills, you wonder if maybe all his talk of babies and his cum taking is more than just heat-of-the-moment dirty talk.
You stare down at the empty drawer and every time he’s called himself Daddy echoes in your ear like a choir.
2K notes
·
View notes
Rinii, what do you think kuroo would say or react when reader starts feeling self-conscious about readers body, like if reader asks "am i getting fatter" or "do you think im fat?"
ohhhhhh i did not plan to do this but this is something that is so personal to me
warnings. gn!reader, fluffy and probably cheesy as always, chubby!reader is implied but i tried to keep it as inclusive as possible, reader is insecure. again, apparently i can only write self indulgent things my bad
you were supposed to be ready to leave the apartment half an hour ago. you weren't usually one to be late to anything, in fact it made you incredibly anxious when you were. however, today your insecurity outweighed your need to be punctual, and you just couldn't leave while looking like this.
actually, today you couldn't leave looking like anything. pieces of clothing lay strewn across the room, hangers discarded on the floor next to the closet. you had tried on every single one, and still there were none that looked flattering on you.
"oi! are you ready yet? i mean, take your time 'n everything, but technically we're late."
kuroo's voice calling from the other room pulls you out of your thoughts momentarily. he never rushes you, which is something you appreciate greatly. it helps that he knows you well enough to know that you would never be late without good reason.
"is there something i can help with orrrr?"
you could hear his voice getting closer and you really didn't want him to see you in this state right now.
he pokes his head past the doorframe and makes a noise of astonishment.
"a tornado go through here while i was gone or somethin'? or are you just trying to spontaneously reorganize things again."
you roll your eyes at that second thing.
"noooo, i just can't decide what to wear. nothing looks good on me today."
he's standing fully in the doorway now, hands in his pockets as he raises an eyebrow and looks you up and down.
"then wear nothing, it looks great on you."
he smirks and you make a futile attempt not to crack a smile as you feel your face start to burn. suddenly you're even more self conscious, so you grab the nearest piece of clothing to hold in front of you.
"tetsurou, i'm being serious! we needed to leave like forty minutes ago and i can't wear any of these clothes without looking-"
you stop yourself just before you could say fat. you hate giving the word a negative connotation. there's nothing wrong with being fat, nothing that should make you feel like this, anyway. like you wanted to crawl out of your skin. usually you were pretty neutral about your body, on very rare occasions could even love things about it. sometimes, it all catches up to you, though.
all the whispers in your head that come from no one but yourself, degrading you and making you feel worthless because of how you look. logically, you know those thoughts are complete and utter bullshit, but it's so hard to continuously fight against them. today, you're slipping a little.
"i know exactly what you're thinking over there. something about your clothes not fitting quite right and that somehow it makes you unloveable."
you don't even have time to pretend to be shocked that he knows you so well before he just keeps on going.
"well i've got news for you, babe, i've never seen you manage to look bad. i actually think it's impossible for you or something."
for a few moments too long, you just stand there gaping at him. he takes that as his cue to walk towards you, remove the sweater that you've been using as a shield, and toss it off to the side.
"there. better."
you finally snap out of it and smack him on the arm, but before you can pull away, he catches your wrist. he brings it up to his lips slowly, and kisses right where your pulse is probably hammering away at the moment, locking eyes with you as he does.
how are you ever supposed to argue with him if he keeps stunning you into silence?
"i don't think you'll ever understand how much i love you, doesn't matter if you change physically or not. and it doesn't matter what you wear either, so can you pleaseeee put on something so we can go. we both know you'll look perfect in anything."
"ugh, fine! but you get to help me pick."
he rubs his hands together with a devious grin, and you know he'll be grabbing the most revealing thing he can find. you know him well, too, after all.
"something appropriate."
"awww, damn."
303 notes
·
View notes
This yours?
[DP x DC fic]
[Love at first... murder? - part 12]
<< Prev | Next >>
Part 1
Ao3
---
Somewhere else, in a seemingly abandoned building on the outskirts of the city, a figure shrouded in darkness and wearing a dark cloak plots.
In front of them is a whiteboard. It’s covered in pictures, sticky notes, and illegible texts. Some of the notes thrown about that are legible are ‘fight…’, ‘draw blood.’, and ‘DEATH!!!’.
There’s a crude stick figure drawn in the corner of the board, it’s impaled. Other small doodles can also be found all around the board.
Most of the information and pictures are connected by red strings, like you see in movies.
In the middle is a picture of 2 people sitting on a motorcycle, the arms of the person sitting in the back are around the waist of the person sitting in the front. The picture has some arrows pointing towards it and the people in the picture are very obviously circled.
Though the face of the person driving the motorcycle is obscured by their helmet, the other person seems to be heavily blushing and grinning broadly.
“Yes… yes! That’s it! I know what to do…” They seem to be speaking to themselves.
Quickly, the person scribbles down a barely legible ‘sacrifice!!‘.
They start cackling.
“Mwuahaha!”
It’s an evil laugh they’ve been working on for quite a while now, and they’re pretty proud of it.
However, the effect is slightly ruined when a fly enters their mouth, cutting off their cackling with choking as they gasp for air, grasping at their throat.
A few good thumps against their chest, with some coughing out their lungs, helps them dislodge the fly from their throat and they spit it out on the ground. They take a few deep breaths before straightening up again.
“Curse you” the person exclaims, angrily waving their fist at the fly as it flies away.
---
Bruce’s face gives off nothing as he stares at the streets down below. He’s dressed as Batman, crouched at the edge of a building with Damian by his side as Robin. Spoiler, Black Bat, Nightwing, and Red Robin are further back on the rooftop.
They watch in silence as another group of the Joker’s goons passes by. They’ve been all over the city, wandering around, not doing anything obviously illegal.
They don’t stay in one place and they don’t seem to have much of a purpose. No attacks… No stealing… No smuggling or transport of goods… No, instead they’re inspecting every single inch of the city.
They don’t seem to have any weapons on them. All they’re carrying on them are some flashlights. While most don’t give anything away with their body language or expressions, some seem to give off a bit of anxious energy.
Spoiler claimed she even saw some of them climb down into the sewers earlier and then climbing out again sometime later somewhere else, but this time ‘dejected and stinky’.
One thing seems clear to the Bats.
They’re searching for something… or someone.
“This basically confirms that not even the Joker’s henchmen know where he is. He’s missing.”
“I’m not sure if this is a good thing or a bad thing”
“Good… thing?”
“It’s… something. That’s for sure.”
“We don’t know if he’s really missing. For all we know it could be a trap. What if the Joker is hiding, pretending to be missing to have us bring our guard down? Besides, how could he be missing? He’s the Joker. No one’s just gonna kidnap him”
“For all we know he could be lying dead in a ditch somewhere”
“I highly doubt that”
“Everyone, focus” Bruce speaks up, having them draw their attention to him.
“It’s unclear whether the Joker is simply hiding away or missing. Instead of focusing on the why, we need to focus on the where. Missing or not, we need to find him and get him back to Arkham. Oracle, have you managed to find out anything from the footage yet?”
“Nope, still nothing. All the files from the moment he enters Crime Alley are wiped and any attempt at recovering them only brings back corrupted files.”
“We need Red Hood. Where is he?” Bruce asks.
“He still has his phone on silent and he has removed the trackers and cams. We haven’t placed any new ones on him yet”
“Let’s visit him on his turf then. And keep an eye out for anything suspicious in the meantime. Oracle, try recovering the missing files. If that doesn’t work, go back to the breakout footage. Perhaps he left some kind of clues about his plans or whereabouts behind there.” Bruce states.
“Roger that.”
---
Red Hood has his arms by his sides as he gazes down upon the street below from the rooftop of a random apartment building in Crime Alley.
He’s lucky to have avoided the Bats so far. But he doubts his luck will last for long.
Red Hood stiffens as he suddenly feels something clamp down on his arm. As a reflex, his other hand has already drawn his gun.
He slowly raises the arm he felt something clamp down on and looks at it, only to make eye contact with a girl with black hair and blue eyes who has sunk her teeth into his arm and is now hanging off of it.
The teeth are sharp, as the girl seems to have some small fangs. They’ve gone through his jacket and sunken into his skin.
It doesn’t really hurt all that badly though, probably hasn’t even drawn much blood, and that’s one of the only reasons Jason hasn’t flung the kid off of him yet. Another reason is the fact that it’s a kid.
They both stare at each other for several seconds.
As Jason takes her appearance in, he notices that she seems rather familiar. In fact, she looks like a more feminine version of Danny, or if Danny had a twin.
The person hanging off of his arm looks younger than Danny though, probably a teenager around 13 or 14, if he had to make a guess.
Slowly, he puts his gun away and takes out his phone with his other hand, watching the random girl’s eyes follow his movements. He raises it level with her face and snaps a picture, quickly sending it to Danny and ignoring the girl’s curious gaze while she’s still hanging onto his arm by her fucking teeth.
---
Meanwhile, Danny checks his phone to see Red Hood sent him a message. He opens it and is greeted by a picture of Ellie in human form biting down on Red Hood’s arm with the caption ‘this yours???’
---
Taglist:
@i-always-say-yea @uraniumwizard @why-must-i-be-like-this @griffinthing
218 notes
·
View notes