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sequinsmile-x · 1 day

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Forever

It's Mother's Day, and Aaron and Jack have a special plan for Emily.

-x-

Hi friends!

It may not be Mother's Day in the UK today, but I know it is in a bunch of other places, so I thought I'd write a fic to mark the occasion.

Happy Mother's Day to those of you have celebrated, and if it's a difficult day for you just know I am holding space for you <3

As always, please let me know what you think <3

-x-

Words: 3.3k

Warnings: none - so fluffy you should floss after xo

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

“Daddy!”

Aaron smiles as he bends down, opening his arms just in time for Jack to throw himself at him, his arms tight around Aaron’s neck as he hugs him, “Hi Jack.”

“You’re home!” Jack says enthusiastically, squeezing his father before he steps back, his eyes wide with excitement, “I thought Aunt Jess was picking me up from school.”

He ruffles Jack’s hair and stands up straight, taking his son’s hand as he starts to lead them back towards the car, “We finished the case and made it back,” he explains, smiling as Jack beams at him, “So I came to get you.”

Jack’s smile slips away slightly as he looks towards the car and sees it’s empty, “Where’s Emily?”

Aaron never felt anything less than in awe of the love his son and his girlfriend had for each other. It felt like a privilege to witness it, to see Jack receiving the maternal love that had been stolen from him at such a young age and to watch Emily be the person to give that to him. To watch her be the amazing mother he always knew she would be, one she would continue to be for Jack and any future children they would hopefully have.

“She’s gone to the store to get what we need for dinner,” he says, pulling the car door open so Jack can get in. He feels an ache in his chest as he watches him climb into the car and pull his seatbelt across himself, something that not all that long ago he needed Aaron to do for him. Aaron checks the belt is secure and gets into the driver's seat, “She said something about getting you that ice cream you love.”

He flicks his gaze to the rearview mirror and Jack smiles impossibly widely at him, “She loves it too!”

Aaron chuckles as he starts to drive, his girlfriend’s sweet tooth one of the many things that had first drawn his son towards her, “Yes, she does. How was school?”

Jack sighs and shrugs, his eyes fixed out of the window as he avoids Aaron’s eye contact through the rearview, “Okay I guess.”

He’s immediately concerned. Jack usually loved school. He was emphatic about it, always enthusiastic whenever he told him or Emily about his day, regaling them with facts his teacher had taught him. They never had to hassle him about homework, something that Aaron hoped would continue for the rest of his education, and there had been times when he’d woken them up to tell them it was time to go to school. Aaron clears his throat to push down the anxiety only Jack or Emily could cause in him.

He had a feeling he knew what the issue was, a familiar date looming in the not so distant future that always seemed to come around so fast.

“Only okay?” He asks, probing gently as he casts a quick glance back at his son.

Jack blows out a breath, a habit he’d picked up from Emily, “Miss Grisham told us we’ll make Mother’s Day cards tomorrow,” he says, looking down at his hands, “She told me before like Miss Keane did last year, and told me I can do something else,” he sighs again, “But I don’t want to be the only one who doesn’t.”

Aaron tightens his hold on the steering wheel, guilt and anger he could only ever aim at himself threatening to choke him as they climb up his throat, the taste bitter on his tongue. The school had always been excellent when it came to this kind of thing. They always spoke to Aaron first, who in turn spoke to Jack to remind him of any difficult dates coming up. Aaron and Emily had reminded him about Mother’s Day just a few days ago and he’d nodded along, his smile sad as they told him they’d visit Haley’s grave and leave her flowers like they always had.

Last Mother’s Day, he’d only been with Emily for just over 6 months. She’d taken a step back, an understanding smile on her face as she kissed his cheek and told him it was important that he and Jack did what they’d always done just the two of them. This year, as they were curled up on their new couch in their new house, Jack had asked her to come along as soon as they mentioned it and she’d agreed, smiling as she ran her fingers through his hair.

“Do you think…” Jack starts before he drifts off, sounding unsure, his focus on his hands again when Aaron casts a look into the back of the car.

“Do I think what, buddy?” Aaron asks, “You can tell me anything, you know that.”

Jack nods, “Do you think Emily would mind if I made one for her?”

Aaron smiles, the love he’d felt only minutes ago swelling in his chest again, “I think she’d love that,” he says, his smile getting wider at Jack’s sigh of relief, “It’s a great idea. What made you think of doing that?”

Jack shrugs, “Miss Grisham was talking all about what a mom does. That they look after you, and make you feel better when you’re sad or sick. She said mom’s make you feel safe and Emily does all of that for me. I think she’s my mom,” he says, scrunching his nose up, “Even though Mommy also is my mom, and I think we should do something for Mother’s Day for her,” he sounds more confident than he had since they started this conversation, “Miss Grisham says Mother’s Day is to say thank you. And I should say thank you to Emily.”

He isn’t sure if he wants to laugh or cry, stuck somewhere between the love Jack has for Emily, and the simple way the 7-year-old had worked through a complicated issue, focused only on what their family looked like now - the three of them against the world. All of a sudden all he can think about is the ring he has hidden in his desk drawer at work.

“Jack,” he starts, smiling as his son nods, their eyes meeting once again in the rearview, “There’s a question I’ve been meaning to ask Emily, want to help me ask her?”

His son’s wide, enthusiastic, smile is the only answer he needs.

___

Emily rolls her shoulders as she walks out of the bedroom, yawning as she comes to a stop at the top of the stairs, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly when she hears her two favourite people in the world whispering to each other, neither one of them being particularly quiet. She smiles as she walks down the stairs, ready to spend her Sunday morning with her Hotchner boys.

As soon as she’s downstairs, they are on her, both standing in front of her with matching grins, their hair and pjyamas adorably mussed by sleep as they each grab one of her hands.

“What’s going on?” She asks, smiling when Aaron leans in to kiss her, stamping his lips against hers and then her cheek.

“Close your eyes, sweetheart,” he says instead of answering, winking at her when she narrows her eyes at him, and she opens her mouth to reply, to argue with him, but Jack cuts her off, both of his hands squeezing hers.

“Emily, it’s a surprise,” he says, his eyes pleading with her, “Please?”

She shakes her head lovingly and leans down to kiss his forehead, “I can’t say no to you,” she says, making a point of raising her eyebrow at her boyfriend as she stands back up straight, “You two better not let me walk into anything.”

Aaron smiles at her as she makes a show of closing her eyes and he kisses her cheek again, his free hand on her back as he starts to guide her towards the dining room, “Never.”

She squeezes his hand as they lead her through the house. They’d only been living here for two months so far but she knew the layout already, knew how many steps it took to get from room to room. She loved it here, it was the home she’d never had, but she knew that had everything to do with the two people leading her towards the dining room and nothing to do with the walls surrounding them. They come to a stop and she laughs when they don’t go any further, wondering why they weren’t going any further.

“You can open your eyes.”

She gasps as she does, a delighted laugh catching in her chest as she looks around the dining room. Breakfast was set up - plates of chocolate chip pancakes already on each place setting, and there were presents, flowers and a card set next to the plate at her usual spot. She looks up at Aaron and then down at Jack, her smile so wide her cheeks were aching.

“What’s all this?”

“Happy Mother’s Day!” They say in unison, both squeezing her hands tightly as they once again flash their matching smiles at her.

She knew it was Mother’s Day. She’d bought her mother a card and sent it to her, and she would send her a text slightly later that likely wouldn’t get a response. She’d bought the flowers and the card they were going to take to Haley’s grave after breakfast, had helped Jack make the perfect selection as they stood in the store for what felt like hours. Aaron had even told her that Jack had mentioned he’d make her a card, giving her the heads up so she wouldn’t be entirely surprised, but he’d clearly kept some of their plans to himself.

“Thank you, sweetie,” she says, turning to Jack first, holding his face in place whilst she leans down to press a few kisses to his cheek, only stopping when he giggles and starts to pull away. She looks up at Aaron and kisses him, smiling into it as he cups the back of her head. She pulls back just enough to speak, making a point of rubbing her nose against his, “Thank you.”

He smiles at her and he has to kiss her again to stop himself from proposing on the spot, “Let’s eat the pancakes before they go cold.”

“Dad put extra chocolate chips in yours,” Jack adds as they walk towards the table, the three of them only disconnecting from each other when they sit down.

“Well they look delicious,” she says, settling into her chair, her eyes flicking to the couple of presents next to her plate. They eat their breakfast, taking time to enjoy it and talk about anything and everything. It still took her aback how normal moments like this were, how ordinary and precious - something she would have once believed she wouldn’t ever get to experience.

Aaron, the slowest eater in the family, has barely put his knife and fork down when Jack announces it’s time to open the presents, his excitement so intense he practically vibrates with it. All Aaron can do is laugh as he stands up, still eating his last mouthful of pancake as he piles their plates up and takes them to the kitchen. When he gets back into the dining room, Jack is sitting on Emily’s lap, her arms wrapped tightly around him as she holds him in place, and he doesn’t think he’s ever loved them more.

Over the last week, he’d wondered if this was the right thing to do, if proposing to her in such a simple way was enough. She deserved the world and he’d give it to her if he could. He’d undo every terrible thing anyone else had ever done to her and rip them apart with his own hands if they tried to hurt her again. He feels any anxiety disappear the moment he sees her, still in her pjyamas with her face bare of make-up and her hair piled on top of her head in a messy bun, his son on her lap as he excitedly spoke at her, because he knows this was right. It was them.

“Present time,” Aaron says as he takes the seat next to them, and Jack smiles widely at him, mischief at the thought of the secret they’d been sharing for a week now shining brightly out of his face.

Emily smiles and tilts her head down to talk to Jack, pressing a kiss to his temple, “Where should I start?”

“With the card and present from me,” he says, grabbing the bigger gift and pulling it towards them before he points at the small box, “That one is from Daddy.”

She hums as she looks up at her boyfriend, unable to stop herself from smiling as he looks at her with nothing short of adoration before she turns her attention back to Jack, “I’ll open yours first then.”

She’s careful as she opens the envelope on the clearly handmade card, and she presses her lips together as she pulls it out, glitter spilling out onto the table and their laps. She sighs happily at the drawing on the front of it, cartoon stick figures of the three of them and Sergio outside their house, Jack’s messy handwriting spelling out “Happy Mother’s Day” on the front of it. She opens it and her smile gets impossibly wider as she reads the inside of the card, her lungs stuffed so full of happiness and love that she can’t breathe.

To Emily

Happy Mother’s Day.

Thank you for everything you do for me and Daddy!

Love Jack

She blows out a slow breath and looks at Aaron when he places his hand on her knee, squeezing it gently as she kisses the top of Jack’s head, “Thank you, Jack,” she says, resting her cheek on top of his head, “That’s so sweet.”

“Now open the present!”

She chuckles at his impatience and she nods, carefully placing the card down before she picks up the box and pulls off the wrapping paper and then removes the cardboard lid. She lifts a mug out of the box and sighs happily when she sees her favourite picture of her and Jack screen-printed onto it. It was a photo Aaron had taken a few months ago at the park. The two of them were cuddled together on a bench, wide smiles on their faces as they looked at the camera.

“Thank you, sweetie,” she says, kissing his head again, “I love it, I needed a new mug for work.”

Jack turns to look at her and nods, “I know! Uncle Derek won’t be able to steal this one.”

“You’re right, he won’t be able to.” She says as she laughs and pulls him into a hug, she sinks into the embrace with the little boy she loved as her own, closing her eyes as she breathes him in. She and Aaron had talked about having at least one more baby and she knew she’d love Jack the exact same way as she would love a baby she carried herself, “I love you, Jack.”

“Love you too,” he says, smiling as he pulls back to look at her, “You should open Daddy’s now.”

She knows they are up to something because of the way they look at each other in the brief moment before Jack slips from her lap. Aaron stands up and kisses her, cutting off any questions. He pulls back to look at her, one of the corners of his mouth curling up into a smile.

“Close your eyes.”

She scoffs and rolls her eyes, “Aaron-”

“Sweetheart,” he says, his voice soft and kind as he smiles at her, “Close your eyes.”

She presses her lips together and nods, doing as she’s asked. She hears shuffling as if they are moving and she sighs, jumping ever so slightly when Aaron holds her hand.

“You can open your eyes.”

Time seems to slow down as she does, the sarcastic comment she’d had all ready to go dying on her tongue as she sucks in a breath the moment she looks at them. They are both kneeling on the floor, an excited smile on Jack’s face and a nervous one on Aarons. The smaller box now in his other hand, opened and offered to her, showcasing the most beautiful ring she’d ever seen.

“Aaron…”

She doesn’t recognise her own voice, the rest of her words caught in her chest as she stares at them, her vision going blurry as tears gather in her eyes. They’d talked about marriage, and she knew he had a ring, but she hadn’t considered this as a possibility when she woke up this morning, hadn’t thought that this was where the, in itself unexpected, Mother’s Day breakfast was going. Even though he hadn’t asked the question yet, she knew what her answer would be.

She wanted him, wanted them, for the rest of her life.

“Emily, I love you so much,” Aaron says, his voice surprisingly steady given that he feels like he is shaking, “I love how much you love us,” he says, nodding towards Jack, “How you make us both feel safe, how you saved us after everything. And I want to spend the rest of my life trying to make you feel even half as loved as you’ve made us feel,” he smiles softly when the sob she’d been holding back finally escapes her and he squeezes her hand, “Will you marry me?”

He barely has the words out before she’s nodding and leaning forward, her hands curled around his head, her fingers sinking into his hair as she kisses him. She pulls back just enough to speak, her answer passing from her lips to his.

“Yes,” she says, choking on a noise between a laugh and a sob, “Yes I’ll marry you.”

He slips the ring onto her finger, briefly pulling away from her enough to do so before he’s kissing her again, pulling her into another hug as he kneels on the floor and she’s still sitting in her seat.

“I love you,” he says, kissing her lips and then her cheek and her jaw, “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” she replies, pulling back to look at him, sniffing as she wipes a tear from his cheek, “I love you.”

“Can I join in on the hug now?”

They both laugh as they turn to look at Jack, the little boy’s patience running out as he all but bounces on the spot, his smile so wide Emily’s surprised his face hasn’t split in half. They both nod and unhook one arm from around the other to make space for him. He steps forward and wraps his arms around them both, his head against Emily’s shoulder.

“Emily?” Jack asks, lifting his head to look at her. She hums in response and looks at him, sinking into the feeling of their embrace, of Aaron’s hand rubbing soothing patterns on her back, “You know what this means?”

“What, honey?” She asks, smiling at him.

“This means you’ll be my mom for real!”

Her breath stutters in her chest, and she feels Aaron hold her even closer, his hand even firmer on her lower back as he turns his head to kiss her temple. She always loved how simply he looked at things, that despite everything his innocence was still largely intact, and she’d spend the rest of her life protecting it with everything she had.

“Yeah,” she says, smiling as more tears gather in her eyes, her heart so full she’s sure it will burst, “It does.”

-x-

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thesilentbard · 8 months

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Cover for chapter three of @seaglass-skies's fic Take me back to the time loop.

This is probably my favorite cover of the whole batch. The gears turned out super well! Also, Clockwork and Danny having tea together is just *chef's kiss.*

Peak behind the curtain, the original sketch had them in chairs, and then I was like "wait, they're ghosts, they can just float." XD

Here's the inline illustration for this chapter as well:

#invisobang #invisobang 2023 #danny phantom #clockwork #silent pictures #it's an excellent fic you should go read it

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spifflocated · 1 year

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The Vetinari Hogswatch shipping calendar Day 19 - Moist von Lipwig/ Adora Belle Dearheart/ Havelock Vetinari OT3

You like the idea of two goths and their sparkly chaos boyfriend, or alternatively a sparkly criminal and his two very, very competent goth partners. Either way, Moist is probably a bit of a wet blanket, and Vetinari and Adora need to sort out who’s in charge, which sounds like it could be quite fun.

Bonus: Drumknott isn’t scared of Adora, because he’s much tougher than everyone thinks (as he has to be, working at the palace). However, he doesn’t understand why, with both Vetinari and Spike on the case, Moist is still getting away with stealing all his stationery.

#Spifflocated's 2022 Hogswatch Calendar #Discworld #Havelock Vetinari #Moist von Lipwig #Adora Belle Dearheart #Proud of myself getting this posted before midnight as I'm accidentally drunk and got delayed crying over S4E4 of Ghosts #This is absoluely an 'inspired by fanfic' ship for me #You should definitely go read Ololon's EXCELLENT fics on AO3 (after checking the tags thoroughly ofc) if this in any way appeals #Also read Ololon's fics in general they write some of my favourite Vetinari/Drumknott

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ravenpuffheadcanons · 1 year

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Any recommendations for a book that isn’t sad (or, if sad in places, nonetheless ends hopefully)? I will read almost anything except horror or open-door romance. My ten favourite novels are in at least six different genres/writing traditions.

#I also welcome fic recs with the same criteria #hey even if you have a favourite fic in a completely new-to-me fandom maybe I’ll give it a go #I met Lord Peter in a swallows and amazons fic to start with! and now he’s a forever favourite #I am personally fine but there is a lot of ambient sadness in my life right now because of friends and colleagues going through stuff #and some of my students are having a tough time also #which always makes it harder for me to leave work at work #basically I want either escapism or absorption #or BOTH #but my last few reads have all been excellent but depressing #Judith Hearne: deservedly a masterpiece and a classic but not a book you should be reading when everyone around you is miserable

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solar-wing · 6 months

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⚣ Five & One 💪🏻

⚣💪🏻 A/N → This is a re-post and, once again, it was inspired by this post by @gone-batty-fics. I'm leaving the full NSFW version up here since it's not that much, so no need for an extra link. I hope you guys enjoy reading this around a second time and sorry if any of you have been missing it. This was my most popular post on my previous account and I'm sad I gotta start it over, but oh well. WARNINGS: Breathplay/Choking, Implied Size Kink, Jealous and Possessive Behavior, Rough Anal, Violence, etc.

⚣💪🏻 Summary → Five times people thought you needed rescuing from your boyfriend, Jason Todd. And the one time, someone needed rescuing from you.

⚣💪🏻 Words → 7.8k

REBLOGS & replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛

Also, vote in my Omegaverse/Yandere poll here!

⚣ ENJOY 💪🏻

Okay, you got it.

Your boyfriend was a very intimidating and scary guy when he wanted to be. But, that didn’t mean people had to keep asking you if you needed saving like you were some damsel in distress. You weren’t even a damsel! You were a damsmen. Damsman? A Damson?

Oh, forget it. Point still stands, people needed to stop treating you like you needed rescuing. You were fine! Besides, when he wasn’t out hunting criminals, Jason was literally the least threatening person in the world. It was you bitches should be worried about! And if bitches didn’t believe you, bitches could just find out on their own.

Bitch.

The first time wasn’t bad. You considered it actually sweet and could see how under the circumstances someone was not aware of the dynamic between you and the vigilante.

It was a sunny day in Gotham for once. Everyone was out, enjoying the sunshine while having barbecues in the parks, strolling down the street in sunhats and sandals, and going swimming at the local pools. You were no different, seeing the usual moody and depressing atmosphere absent from the sky and deciding immediately to take advantage of it and drag your boyfriend Jason out, making the whole day a date between you two.

You and Jason decided on simple outfits since the sun was out and the temperatures were warmer than usual. You decided on a regular button-up, leaving the top three buttons down to show some skin, which your boyfriend both loved and hated since he could ogle your chest with no shame, but anyone else could do the same. You paired it with some boat shoes and simple shorts that did an excellent job hugging your ‘boo-twah,’ a nickname Jason gave your ass for its large-hand-friendly size, as he liked to say.

“Instead of like boo-tee, it’s boo-TWAH. It’s just out there.” He explained one morning when you had spent the night at his place. Jason, sitting and ogling at his boyfriend in his well-fitted yoga pants and sleeveless hoodie while you made breakfast.

“You are such a nerd.” You laughed at him.

“Well, this nerd scored big,” He responded before landing a heavy smack on your behind, which you chastised him for since he made you almost fling the eggs you were scrambling out of the pan.

Back to the sunny day, Jason dressed simply too but was more relaxed than you. He went for a comfortable pair of joggers, one of his nicer gym shoes, and a tank top covered by a sleeveless hoodie since he got hot easily.

A few months after you and Jason got together, he told you about his double life and his family’s. It explained why when he would spend the night at your house a few times, you’d play doctor while wondering where he was getting all these bruises and wounds. As you and Jason grew closer and began to explore your ‘interest’ in each other’s bodies, you’d find he was actually shy about his body even though the man was built like a tank.

It wasn’t necessarily his body he was ashamed of. It was his scars he actually didn’t like. All things he saw as painful reminders of his more than rough past, especially the bigger ones he had received from Joker. You were patient with him and reminded him at every possible chance that his scars were nothing to be ashamed of. Instead, they were to be celebrated and seen as trophies. Reminders that in the face of everything thrown at him, he came out on top stronger than ever.

Over time, Jason became more confident and comfortable in his body. He bought more shirts, tank tops, and shorts that showed his arms, chest, and legs. Even going as far as cutting the sleeves off some of his hoodies since you owned many pairs, and he loved how they looked on you. He’d prefer to wear yours, but since you were much smaller than him, he’d end up stretching or ripping them. Now, you were no dainty stick or anything like that. You had some meat on your bones and were taller than the average guy. But again, Jason is built like a tank and very much dwarfed you in size.

You weren’t complaining.

He also loved the benefit of the sleeveless hoodies as they made him look more intimidating, which helped whenever he noticed other guys and girls at the gym ogling you a little too long for his liking. He didn’t care who it was, Jason would always look out for and protect you.

Yet, others seemed to see it differently as you walked down the street in Gotham, going in and out of the various stores. You were both sipping on some slushies while chatting about whatever, Jason holding your shopping bags in one hand. You tried to snatch the bags from him multiple times since you didn’t want to feel like Jason was your butler or servant. Besides, you worked out too. Look at your arms! You could carry Jason if you wanted to.

Okay, yes, you knew that was a lie but you were allowed to dream. You’d get there…someday.

“Jason, give me my bag. I can carry it myself!” You said, trying to reach for the bag again.

“Sorry, Bugs, you know the rules. You’re not allowed to carry anything in my presence. Well, except my love for you. That’s heavy enough as it is.” Jason said with a cheeky smile.

You rolled your eyes at your boyfriend’s corny behavior and another one of his nicknames for you. You’d made the mistake of bringing Jason around your best friend during a study session for one of your classes. He revealed your childhood obsession with Looney Tunes and how many times when you reacted to a situation, you were a carbon copy of Bugs Bunny with his sarcasm and behavior.

“Get away from me dude,” You said, putting distance between yourself and the brick wall of a man.

“Ah, get back here.”

Jason grabbed you by your waist and pulled you to his side, nuzzling his face into your neck while tickling your sides.

“Jason, stop!” You shouted in laughter, trying to push him away.

“Never! You are now my hostage.” He joked back with you.

You stood there for a few more seconds wrestling with each other on the sidewalk. Someone should really scold you two for acting so cutesy and loving out and public like that. WE GET IT! You’re in love! Stop rubbing it in our faces.

When you broke apart, you found yourselves outside a bookstore. You saw Jason’s eyes light up even if his face didn’t show it. He turned towards you, giving you his best puppy-dog eyes and pout.

“Oh, get in there you dork. But, don’t max out your dad’s credit card!” You said, successfully pushing him off you.

He leaned down to plant a kiss on your lips before shooting into the store like the Flash. “No promises!” He yelled over his shoulder.

While he was in the store living out his childhood fantasy, you decided to let your ankles rest since you had been on them for a few hours. Jason offered to carry you at one point, and though it was tempting, you declined.

You sat on a nearby bench while scrolling on your phone for a bit. Your head shot up when you spotted someone approaching you from the street. It was two girls, both who looked to be in their late 20s to early 30s, carrying concerned looks on their faces.

“Hi!” You spoke with a smile, waving to the women walking up to you.

“Hey, are you okay?” One of them asked when they got to you.

Now, you had a confused expression on yours.

“I’m sorry?” You responded with a puzzled eyebrow raised.

“We were across the street when we saw that guy grabbing you. We can walk with you to the police station if he’s harassing you.” The other woman said.

‘Were these chicks on crack?’ You thought.

“Um, I think there’s been some confusion–” You started but was interrupted by the door swinging open, an excited Jason springing out of the store.

“BABE! THEY’VE GOT A MINT-CONDITIONED PRIDE & PREJUDICE! Can I get it?! Please!!!” Jason shouted while running up to you and grabbing you by your arms.

You could barely keep off the amused smile on your face while looking around your boyfriend’s shoulder to see the two girls looking shocked and embarrassed by your giant for a boyfriend, begging you for a book like a kid.

Jason turned around as well, seeing the two women staring at you two while he just pulled you closer to his body, wrapping his arms around you.

“Who are your friends, Bugs?”

“Just some nice girls being friendly,” You answered before using your hand to turn Jason’s head back toward you. “Don’t you already have three copies at home, Jason? Why do you need another?”

“Okay, but those are all old copies and are falling apart. This one is BRAND NEW! Never been opened. Please!!!”

You could only sigh at his antics before turning back to the girls, “I’m fine, ladies. But, thank you for asking.”

They both nodded with embarrassment before walking off down the street, Jason watching them with a confused expression before looking down at you.

“What was that about?”

“Don’t worry about it.

This one also wasn’t so bad, but it was still annoying.

Your parents were out of town for a month for their anniversary, so you invited Jason over. When he got there and saw how your cupboards and fridge were damn near empty, he was upset at you for not telling him you had no food and your parents for not supplying you with anything.

Truth be told, they literally just forgot to go before they left. Jason always wondered where you got your forgetfulness from. Now, he knew.

So, he dragged you to your local wholesale store once again with his adoptive father’s credit card to stock and load your cabinets so you wouldn’t go hungry. Well, really so, Jason wouldn’t go hungry since he would be spending a lot of time at your place now. Again, the man was like a mountain, so of course, he ate like one.

You had been in the store for about 15 minutes, and already your cart was damn near half-full.

“Jay, don’t you think this is enough? We don’t have to get a bunch of stuff today.” You voiced, eyeing the growing basket with concern.

“Bugs, you can’t stay in your house for a month and not have any food. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I let you go hungry?” He responded while grabbing four boxes of your favorite cereal brands off the shelf and placing them neatly in the basket.

If it’s one thing that shocked you to learn about Jason was that he was very clean and organized with anything. You expected that trait more out of his brothers like Tim or Damian. But in truth, Tim was more of an organized chaos type of guy, and Damian was very simplistic, so he didn’t really need to organize much, except for his drawings and paintings, which he sometimes left scattered all over his desk.

Dick was a mess that couldn’t be saved. God bless the soul that ended up with that man.

But Jason was the cleanest out of all of them. The man could barely go two days without scrubbing down or re-organizing something. Again, you weren’t complaining. Every time he came over, he’d clean your room without you even asking.

“Okay, but my parents did leave me money to order out. Plus, I don’t want Bruce thinking I’m using you for money, or anything like that, especially since you keep taking his credit card.” You pointed out to which your boyfriend scoffed in response.

“Please, as much as that man has put me through, maxing out his credit card is the last thing he’s worried about me doing. And don’t worry, he and the rest of the family love you. Honestly, if it wasn’t for you dating me and the fact that you have great parents, I wouldn’t be surprised if the old man didn’t try to adopt you, which, if I haven’t mentioned this already, I don’t recommend.” He finished while heading further down the breakfast food aisle and grabbing boxes of Pop-Tarts.

“Fourth time.” You stated. Jason does not hold back regarding his tense relationship with his adoptive parent.

That was something you’d also been watching him work on.

When Jason met your parents and saw the relationship between your father and you, it opened up an emotional wound he wasn’t prepared for. And though he still had some resentment toward the Billionaire Playboy, aka the Dark Knight, for not sending Joker to the seventh ring of hell after his death, it didn’t mean he didn’t still care for and love the man. He just had mental blocks he needed to work through, and you’d be there to support him.

Jason was about to give you one of his dorky responses until he realized he forgot the credit card in your car.

“Shoot, I forgot the card in the car. Where’re your keys?” He asked.

You handed them to him, and he gave you a quick kiss and a slap on the ass with a warning to not put anything back before rushing towards the entrance/exit of the store. Rolling your eyes, you moved down the aisle scoffing at his warning. Of course, he knew you were going to try and put some of the items back. Just like you knew him better than himself sometimes, it was the same for him with you. He could predict your next move before it popped into your head which you found very cute but extremely annoying at times.

While you stood there for a few moments scrolling on your phone out of boredom, you heard a voice speak up behind you.

“Excuse me.”

You turned around to see two guys around your age standing behind you. You figured they were trying to get to something behind you, so you moved yourself and your cart out of the way.

“Oh, my bad. Here ya go.”

“No, no! Not that. We were just wondering if you needed help getting your car or getting away from that guy. We saw him drag you in here.”

You barely held back the eye roll that was itching in your skull. Yes, Jason did somewhat have to drag you into the store since you insisted that you didn’t need to go grocery shopping. But, what happened to common sense? If Jason truly was holding you hostage or had bad intentions for you, why in the world would he bring you to a grocery store out of all places?!

Seriously, what were they thinking? That he was going to stick a Fruit-Loops box over your head and torture you with your most hated juice flavor?

A small sigh escaped your mouth before you responded to the boys, “Okay, this is not what it looks like. That guy is my boyfriend, and we’re just grocery shopping. I promise I’m fine.” You assured the guys.

“Are you sure? He isn’t forcing you to say any of this, right? I know that guy’s intimidating, but we can call security or the police to help you.”

Before you could respond, you both heard the sounds of quick footsteps approaching from around the corner. You turned to see him holding a plate with two large slices of pepperoni pizza and a large orange soda.

“Babe, I got you two slices of pizza and your favorite soda from the food court. I know you haven’t eaten today, so I figured you could snack on this, and then we can get you some chicken tenders and fries from your favorite restaurant after we leave here.” He offered while handing you the plate, looking at you with the most adoring gaze.

This boy really did have your whole heart. You could only wonder what you did to deserve someone like him.

When Jason took note of the two other guys standing by you looking dumbfounded, his arm instantly found its way around your waist, pulling you into his side while eyeing the two boys suspiciously and on guard. Anyone that wasn’t your parents, best friend, or his family, Jason saw as a potential threat. Even his family sometimes was included in that list a few times, and living in Gotham, you could never be too careful.

And any excuse for Jason to show you as his to anyone else watching was always an appreciated opportunity.

“Can I help you, fellas?” Jason said, a stern tone in his voice while eyeing the two down with every menacing look he could muster in his eyes.

You’ve never seen two guys who looked like they wanted to shit their pants so bad and run in the opposite direction. They started stuttering out a response before you took pity on them.

“They’re fine, Jay. They were just trying to grab some cereal behind me. I was just moving out of their way.” You threw a look toward the boys, who looked at you confused before they caught on to what you were trying to say.

“Y-Yeah m-man. Just ... um gra-grabbing some Frosted flakes.” One of the dudes said, pointing his fingers toward the boxes right behind you.

Jason eyed that finger with malice before he felt your fingers turning his face toward you.

“Hey, stop it. I’m good. Now, are you going to let them get their cereal and let me eat my pizza before it gets cold?”

A small smile crossed his face while he backed you both up moving the cart as well. You ruffled his hair watching the two boys grab a box and run down the aisle with their tails between their legs. He let out his usual whine, using his other arm to fix his hair.

“Shut up, you big baby. You promised me chicken tenders and fries, so get a move on before I get a food attitude.”

Jason smirked at your words before the hand around your waist moved to your butt, palming and squeezing your cheeks under the ‘hoochie’ shorts you were wearing.

“I know something better that’ll fill you up and take care of that attitude for you.” He whispered in your ear before giving a nip.

At least you weren’t in front of the salads when this was happening.

This wasn’t bad. It was actually funny, and you got a friend out of it.

You and Jason were at the gym, getting a workout in. You decided you both liked going in the afternoon when it was less busy. It was leg and glutes day for you (per usual) while Jason was working chest and shoulders.

Two of your favorite body parts on him, including his arms, but that’s not important.

Now, you both agreed when you went to the gym that you would do your workouts separately but your warm-ups and cardio together. So, at some point, Jason was on the Smith machine doing a shoulder bench press while you were on another bench doing Bulgarian split squats.

Of course, the gym was a place where people met each other all the time. And, in many of those meetings and interactions, people would find others attractive and want to date or hook up with them. You were no exception to these rules. You were approached many times by both girls and guys, but you always politely declined. Well, you tried at least before Jason walked over and made it clear who you were with.

It was no secret to anyone that Jason did not only get easily jealous at the thought of you giving your attention and time away to someone who was not him, but he was also the living definition of anger issues. Match that with his very selfish and possessive attitude towards you, and you had a man ready and WILLING to do just about anything to anyone who dared lay a finger on you in the wrong way.

So, whenever someone deemed themselves stupid brave enough to approach you and flirt a little or leave a teasing touch to one of your arms, you’d try to give them a warning but it was always too late. They’d quickly find a towering shadow looming over them and turned to see a less than pleased Jason staring down at them with his bulging arms crossed over his chest. These being one of the few moments Jason gladly showed off his scars because they communicated his message quickly and effectively.

Back. The. Fuck. Off.

That was usually enough to get them to do just that. Most of the time, at least.

There always ended up being at least one guy or girl who wouldn’t take no for an answer. This time, it was a guy who kept finding himself next to you during your sets. Jason was watching you from afar with hooded and irritated eyes as he also noticed your gym shadow moving around with you.

The guy decided to play smart and keep his hands off you since he could tell your brute of a boyfriend was watching his every move. The only reason he didn’t do anything was because he knew if he did, the guy could claim Jason as the aggressor, and since this was your favorite gym because your college’s gym was always crowded, he didn’t want to risk you getting in trouble and banned.

So, when Jason went to the bathroom, the creep took advantage of the moment and offered to ‘spot’ you on your set of squats with the smith machine, which you were sure was just an excuse for him to get behind you so he could ogle your ass and ‘accidentally’ grind his dirty crotch into it.

Luckily, a girl working out nearby noticed your uncomfortable stance when the man came over to ‘help’ you while you were setting up and immediately stopped her workout to shoo him away.

“Dude, he’s clearly not interested. So either go and finish your workout or pack up and get out!”

He tried to get defensive and argue with her, but when she revealed her boyfriend was one of the owners and threatened to have him kicked out and banned, he finally backed off. He made sure to point out how you weren’t even all the hot anyway to mask his hurt pride while you threw an appreciative look toward her.

When he left and Jason returned from the bathroom, the girl unleashed her rage on him as well.

“And you too! I’ve seen you harassing and stalking him all over the gym. I’ll kick your ass out too and have you banned if you don’t leave him alone.” She scolded the dark-haired man.

Jason looked confused while you just laughed before grabbing his arm and pulling him to you, “Nah, don’t worry about him. This one’s good.” You said, reaching up to ruffle his hair, even though you had to stretch a little bit.

Jason pouted down at you in childish anger, “I told you don’t do that! Do you know how long it takes to get this in the right floppy position?” He whined while trying to fix his hair.

She looked back and forth between you two before realization dawned upon her.

“Boyfriend who’s a menace to everyone but is a total baby when around you?”

You gasped, “Girl, how’d you know?”

“Mine’s the exact same.”

“Oh, we’re gonna be great friends.” You declared.

Okay, this time, it was lowkey your fault, but still. People should be able to tell the difference between an actual cry for help and a joke.

Jason decided to take you to one of his favorite cafes in Gotham since you were in desperate need of a study break. You picked up some classes over the summer, so the schedule was much more tightly packed since they had to speed up a four-month course into two with the semester being divided into two sections.

Jason was sitting on one of the lounge chairs reading while you were sipping on some apple juice and reading a fanfic story on your phone. Whether or not it was smut was not important and nobody would be able to tell by the look on your face. At least until you read over one particular part that had you gasping out loud which managed to catch your boyfriend’s attention.

“What?”

“Nothing.” You quickly said, liking the fic quickly and closing the browser, knowing Jason was not going to drop it.

“Uh uh, Bugs. What were you looking at?” He asked, setting his book on the table and moving over to your side of the table.

“Nothing Jay! I promise it was nothing.”

“Oh really? So you wouldn’t mind if I looked at your phone then?”

You felt your cheeks heat up while Jason took notice of your tense stance, peering at you and your phone while slowly leaning toward you from his crouched stance.

“Let me see your phone.”

“No.”

“Give me your phone.”

“I said no.”

“Bugs,” Jason said, now mocking a stern look on his face, “Give. Me. Your. Phone.”

He held out his hand for emphasis, and you felt your fingers reflexively tighten around your smart device. You stared back at him with your own dour expression, “No. Means. No.”

You both stared into each other’s eyes for a moment before he suddenly grabbed at your phone, attempting to snatch it from your hand. It became a tug-of-war over the device while you both consciously tried not to be too much of a disturbance to the other patrons of the cafe.

This is where it accidentally was your fault.

“Help! Assault! Violence! Thief!”

You thought you were shouting it quietly, but there was a reason your family always told you to quiet down when you thought you were speaking at a normal volume. You got it from your mother really. Strong voices and all…

“Dude, fucking back off!”

You both heard the deep voice shout before you watched a guy tackle Jason to the ground, feeling hands coming to your side.

“Oh my god, are you okay?!” This random brunette said while checking you over to make sure you weren’t hurt.

You were FINE. However, you were worried as hell now. Not for Jason at all, cause… Well, ya know.

You were scared for the other guy that had tackled Jason. Your boyfriend did NOT do well with physical touch, considering how long it took him to get comfortable with just cuddling with you. Let alone sudden physical touch? And the man is used to fighting criminals at night and having to be on guard 24/7 if he feels something suddenly grab or touch him? Yeah, you were hoping this didn’t end in a trip to the precinct like last time.

Don’t ask.

“I’m fine. But, I do suggest you quickly get your friend off my boyfriend before he has to go to the hospital.” You assured the girl while warning her at the same time.

She looked at you confused, “Boyfriend? Wait, huh? We thought that guy was attacking you and trying to steal your phone. And don’t worry, my boyfriend’s a professional kickboxer. He can handle him.”

‘Yeah. Mine has anger issues and was trained by Batman and can re-load two guns in under twenty seconds with his arms tied behind his back.’

“AH!”

You both turned your heads to see Jason holding the other guy in a chokehold while looking up at you.

“Aww, man! He spilled my coffee over my book.” Jason whined, “Babe, can you get me another one, please?”

“Yes, Jason. Can you do me a favor and let him go before you break his neck?”

Jason rolled his eyes before releasing the guy, who went into a coughing fit on the ground as he caught his breath.

When he sat back at the table as the girl went to help her boyfriend off the floor after giving you both weird looks, he set your phone on the surface, eyeing you with a quizzical look.

“What?” You asked after he stared at you for a few more minutes.

“Really? Yandere?”

Your heart jumped in your chest, and you were ready to bolt for the door.

“So, all those times you swore you weren’t trying to make me jealous just to get a reaction outta me, were you actually just trying to get me to tie you up and lock you in my room?” He said with a dark look in his eyes and a cheeky smirk on his lips.

HOT BOY DOWN! I REPEAT, HOT BOY DOWN!

Now, this was just ridiculous. Of course, it made sense, but you were thoroughly pissed off when it happened.

You and Jason had returned to his apartment after having dinner with his family at Wayne Manor. Bruce decided he wanted to have at least one family dinner a month, and since you were considered an honorary Wayne and everyone loved you, of course, you were invited. Jason, on the other hand, was still hesitant.

Even though he was working on his relationship with Bruce and trying to move past his mental scars, his family still brought up some sensitive subjects for him. Typically, they made his insecurities flare up a lot more. You were Jason’s safe space. So, he wasn’t really keen on mixing the things that made him question himself and the person who made him feel the most loved and secure together.

You didn’t push, still wanting to go at his pace and let him bring you around more when he was ready. The day of the dinner, you figured he either had a change of heart or somebody had talked to Jason and convinced him to bring you along, and you had a great time. Jason was a bit quiet throughout the evening, but you could see a small part of him was happy at seeing how you integrated well into his family dynamic. He took great pleasure in how you humbled Dick a few times as well.

But, something was off, but you couldn’t tell what it was. You knew Jason was usually the quieter one out of the rest of his siblings. When you were around, he showed more of his goofiness and playful side. You barely saw that at all tonight. You knew he was watching you as you made conversation with Bruce, argued back and forth with Damian, repeatedly told Tim he needed to get more sleep, snapped photos with Steph, joked with Duke, and even learned a little sign language from Cass.

He watched as you offered to help Alfred with the dishes, who respectfully declined, but did make his appreciation known to you and the others, especially Tim.

“I offer to help you sometimes, Alfred!” Tim shouted while chasing after the butler offering his help.

Usually, Jason would laugh at any moment that came at the expense of Tim’s sanity.

None of that happened.

So, when you got back to his place, you asked him what was wrong. He remained silent as he just looked at you, but you could see there was a storm behind his eyes. When you came up to rub his arm and hug him, his hands shot up to your neck, wrapping around it firmly but not tight to where you couldn’t breathe.

Your hands grabbed his wrists as he maneuvered you against the wall that connected the living room to the kitchen. He placed his lips roughly on yours, forcing his tongue into your mouth while never loosening his hold on your neck.

“Mine. Not theirs, mine.” He muttered against your lips before quickly taking his hands off your neck, ripping your clothes off while ridding himself of his.

In less than two minutes, Jason had you pressed back against the wall, your legs wrapped around his waist, and his long and girthy member tucked deep inside your ass, fucking you with hard and menacing thrusts. His large and rough hands were back around your neck, now squeezing around your neck as you moaned breathlessly against him.

Jason took immense pride in your sounds of satisfaction and whining, increasing his already brutal pace in your guts while slowly stealing more of your breath away. Jason’s hard breaths pounded against your face as he stared at your now sweaty and ragged body, limping weakly against him. You placed your arms on his shoulder but were careful to avoid his neck, knowing that along with some other areas on his body were off-limits unless specified otherwise.

This was the dynamic between you two always. Anyone could see how Jason was wrapped around your finger in public and even in private whenever you two were just lounging around and relaxing. In these moments, you were fully under Jason’s authority. You lay completely at his mercy while he dominated your body and controlled where, when, and how you got pleasured.

The who rarely came into question as though your boyfriend had considered it a few times, you didn’t see a day likely where Jason’s jealousy and possessiveness would let him allow someone else to see you in this manner. No, you were for his eyes only.

And the why, well that was simple. Jason had needs, you had needs. And, no one was better suited to fulfill those needs than your boyfriend. Though with him, anything could spark those needs at any given time. Whether the dark-haired boy was just feeling horny and wanted some ass. You decided to wear a tempting outfit, and he decided he was going to right then and there he would have you, whether in the house, in the car, or in public, it didn’t matter. If he felt you were being a little too friendly with someone else, he’d be happy to remind you about who you belonged to. The why was simple; if Jason wanted you, he would have you. No ifs, and’s, or but’s about it.

“J-Jason... nngh p-please-” You begged, feeling yourself nearing the edge as your dick was crushed between Jason and your hot and sweaty abdomens.

“Say my name again,” He ordered, feeling how he flexed his dick inside you while still pounding your sore hole.

His name fell from your lips in a needy moan as you felt his fingers pressing against your windpipes. You could feel how the wall behind you became slick from your sweat as your body jutted up and down against it with Jason’s increasingly erratic thrusts.

He grunted in approval of your increasingly loud whines as you both approached your climaxes. Jason fully squeezed your neck at this point as he punched your insides with his cock. Your own member was feeling the pressures as well as it repeatedly smashed against Jason’s abs before you reached your end, screaming out in blissful agony.

Jason came to his finish with his own groan as you felt him bury himself with his cum deep inside you. You let out soft little whines feeling his appendage throb against your walls. Even though you knew he didn’t like hands around his neck, he didn’t object to you rubbing a hand down his nape. He gave you a warning glance at first, but when he felt your soft hands rubbing up and down his skin, he visibly relaxed, placing a kiss on your cheek.

The quiet and sweet moment though was abruptly ruined by the sound of Jason’s front door being kicked in and heavy boots rushing into his apartment.

“GOTHAM P.D.!” You heard the intruders shout.

Of all the fucking things…

Well, when the cops came around and found you and your naked boyfriend against the wall, and his hands around your neck, you had to admit it didn’t look good.

You had to quickly explain to the officers it wasn’t what it looked like and that everything was consensual. Against the orders of the cops, Jason did not move one inch off the wall, keeping your body covered with his. He’d sooner dip himself in another Lazarus Pit than let these arrogant blue caps have even the smallest peek at you.

So, with a little charm and finesse, you convinced the cops to walk out and let you and him get dressed. Jason couldn’t decide what he was more upset about.

The fact that his door was off its hinges, or that one of his neighbors called the cops on him thinking Jason had been abusing you, or that your private moment was intruded upon and some pervy cops basically saw you naked.

Yeah, he was going to be extra brutal on patrol tonight.

After a call was made to Commonionser Gordon at Jason’s request, the cops dropped everything and left you two alone when Gordon made it clear this was a bogus call. “Jason? Abusing Y/N? That boy is the biggest simp this city’s ever seen. Whoever called that in was obviously misinformed.”

Even if it was true, Jason didn’t appreciate being called a simp. He didn’t deny it, though.

You could barely hold back your laughs to which your boyfriend responded with a harsh smack to your very sore ass. It was a wonder how you were even standing on your legs as they still felt like jelly.

“I’m sorry, but I just can’t see him in that manner.”

“No way, he’s way too sweet and innocent to be like that.”

“Dude, have you met your own boyfriend?”

These were all things said to Jason when he would complain to them about how he was tired of everyone thinking he was a threat to you and not seeing the truth. If anything, you were more of a threat to Jason and honestly, should be placed on a national security watch list for some of the things that have come out of your mouth.

The only one who really knew and understood what Jason was talking about was your best friend, who was the first one to warn Jason. The boy didn’t believe him either at first and ended up finding out the hard way.

Well, it looked like Jason’s brothers were also about to find out as they had come to your school’s campus looking for him. You were happy to see the Wayne siblings, as some time had passed since the last dinner. For some reason, seeing how easily you interacted with his brothers drove up Jason’s jealousy to a new level. As soon as they showed up, Jason placed you on his lap, and you could feel his prominent bulge throbbing under you. You knew immediately you were in for it when you both got home.

When you got up to go to the bathroom, Jason was going to follow you, intending to give you a little preview of what to expect in the stalls, but was stopped by Dick, who said they had something important they needed to talk to him about.

Before that could happen, a new presence appeared at your table, and your best friend visibly and audibly groaned at who it was.

“Hi there.” Jason heard a sickly sweet voice say, turning to see another boy he’d heard of.

“Xavion.” Jason heard your best friend mutter under his breath.

He knew that name. He’d heard you curse it and mutter it in irritation and anger plenty of times. He purposefully went out of his way to piss you off and pick with you on multiple occasions. He also thought that because his dads were rich and gave him everything he wanted, he was entitled to anything and everything, including other people’s significant others.

No one knew what started the rivalry between you two, but they knew it got cemented when he had sex with your first college boyfriend while you guys were dating and then went on to sleep with any guy you had the slightest attraction to.

So, Jason would be no different when he placed himself a little too close for the dark-haired boy’s liking, trying to maneuver himself away.

“I’ve seen you around on campus before. Are you a student here?”

“Xavion, don’t you have someone else to harass and stalk?” Your best friend commented with an irritated eye roll.

The boy in question only threw a dirty glance at your comrade before turning back to your boyfriend, taking considerable delight in looking him up and down, “Damn, aren’t you a big boy. You’re Y/N’s boyfriend, right? Gotten bored yet?”

Everyone tensed at that, watching how Xavion only got bolder in his flirting, “I’d understand if you did. Y/N’s just not that interesting, and honestly, a little ran through. I’d be happy to show you other options though,” He voiced with a suggestive tone.

Dick, Tim, and Damian watched with slightly nervous eyes as the promiscuous boy moved his hand that was caressing Jason’s arm and placed it around his neck, waiting for the ball to drop as the second Wayne kid's hands began to twitch on the table.

Before anyone could move to stop it, they saw Xavion get literally yanked off of Jason and onto the ground. Your boyfriend and his siblings along with your best friend who began to cheer your name watched as you dragged the slut onto the ground by the back of his shirt and proceeded to WHALE on him.

No one had noticed you coming back from the bathroom, too busy watching Xavion rub his hands all over your boyfriend. When you got closer and saw what was happening, you immediately saw red and picked up your pace, only to dash into a mad sprint when you saw his hand touch Jason’s neck.

Jason after breaking out of his stunned trance immediately ran over to pull you off the screaming boy who was crying for help. Dick and Tim ran over to pull Xavion out of your grasp, just barely managing to save him from what would have been a devastating kick from your boot to his face.

“Touch my boyfriend again and see what happens bitch!” You shouted out at the boy. Luckily, you were in a secluded part of campus, so no one had seen the fight. But, when Xavion had gotten off the ground looking thoroughly fucked up, he tried to run up on you, seeing Jason holding you back and thinking he had an open shot.

Little did he or Jason expect, you used your smaller stature to slip out of Jason’s hold and rushed the boy before kicking your leg up and landing that hit that was taken from you earlier. You took sick satisfaction hearing and feeling the crunch under your foot as it connected with his nose.

Dick, Tim, and Damian watched in complete shock seeing you beat the shit out of this boy. Now, they could really see why you and Jason were such a good match for each other.

When Jason got you back in his arms, he made sure to hold on a little tighter to you so you couldn’t slip away again. Dick and Tim had to help the sobbing boy cradling his broken nose, saying they would take him to the emergency room.

Jason pulled you both back towards the table, sitting you down on his lap as he held your hands down. He could not help how hard he was under you and didn’t care to hide it. Watching that display had him a different level of horny and he frankly couldn’t wait to take you home.

After a few moments passed and you settled down, everyone looked up to the sound of a throat clearing.

“Todd, I don’t know if I ever told you this before,” Damian started, looking at you both with his usual judgemental stare, “...Good job.” He said with a nod toward you.

You were both surprised, Jason especially, as neither of you had ever heard the youngest Robin give out a compliment.

“If you screw this up somehow, which I have little doubt that you’ll find a way, I will not hesitate to end you.”

There was the Damian you both knew.

“I second that motion,” Your best friend added to which you just laughed.

“Shut it, gremlin.” Jason retorted before squeezing you against his body.

“Don’t worry, Damian. I don’t think Jason will do anything to screw this up. Besides, if he does do something stupid, he’ll have me to worry about.” You said, a mischievous twinkle in your eye.

You heard Jason growl lowly against you before grinding you into his lap, letting you feel his hardness poking you through your shorts. You popped his arm to which he responded with a pinch on your ass, your best friend watching in disgusted amusement.

“You two make me sick.”

“Back at you, ugly.” You responded.

Damian turned his head, looking in the direction where Dick and Tim took Xavion to an ER room, “I despise harlots.”

“OH! Speaking of which, thank you, Damian, for reminding me.” You said before leaning over Jason to grab your bag and pull out your laptop.

“What are you doing?” Your boyfriend asked.

“Insurance. I knew the day would come when that hoe went too far. So just in case he decides to go to the university about this little spat, I’m emailing a detailed description of how everything went down, along with photos and evidence of his affairs with various teachers and staff. To them, it will look like Xavion attacked me out of retaliation because he thought I would snitch on him about his sexual misconduct. Now, tell me, babe, did you feel physically violated?” You asked while making various edits to your already drafted email.

“Huh?” Jason replied confused.

“Just say yes.” Your best friend told him with a smirk.

“Um, yes? I think…”

“Perfect! Putting that down for the record, so, if that slut decides to try to get me in trouble, I can show I had completely justifiable reasons to hand him his ass on a concrete platter.” You stated a little too cheerily to be considered not disturbing.

Your best friend was not surprised by this at all, while Damian and Jason looked at you like you had two heads.

“Isn’t the expression ‘silver platter?’” Damian pointed out.

“Yeah, but I dragged his ass up and down on concrete, so it’s a concrete platter today.”

You looked up to see the two Robins staring at you.

“What? Bitches fucked around, so bitches found out. Don’t blame me.” You said while continuing to type.

“I fucking love you,” Jason said while biting at your ear lobe, making you laugh.

Damian could only scoff as he watched you two.

“And people swear Todd’s the threat.”

☀️ | Jason Todd/Red Hood | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

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navybrat817 · 3 months

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Focus

Pairing: Motocross!Steve Rogers x Motocross!Female Reader Summary: You have a crush on Steve Rogers, but you don't think you're his type. Word Count: Over 1k Warnings: Crush, longing, slight insecurities, swearing, nicknames, Curtis is a good friend, Motocross!Steve Rogers (he's a warning, okay?) A/N: Finally an intro for Champ and Daisy in our Dialed In AU! Took me how long, @yenzys-lucky-charm ? Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @saradika . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated! ❤️

A 450 rider like Bucky with a lot of wins under his belt, Natasha was serious when she said Steve was one of the best riders in his class.

It was one of the reasons people called him “Champ”, a nickname he wasn’t overly fond of since some of the guys liked to tease him after races where he didn’t place first. It also gave him flashbacks of when he was younger and smaller, virtually ignored or told he wouldn’t excel in anything physically.

With a lot of heart and a late growth spurt, he proved them wrong.

Bucky said once that his nickname should be “Adonis” because of his now statuesque looks and the pit lizards fawning over him or “Golden Boy” because of his success and admiration.

Steve never let any of that get to his head and refused to let the pit lizards distract him. He worked hard to get where he was and continued to give it his all on and off the track every single time.

His determination was one of the many reasons you found yourself drawn to him. He was the kind of rider and person many aspired to be.

Your crush only grew the day you two actually met.

A rider yourself, you earned the nickname “Daisy” thanks to the flowers on your helmet and general sweet demeanor.

The helmet was the very thing Steve complimented you on when he walked by you at your first pro race.

You hadn’t meant to stare when he walked by, but his reputation preceeds him. Clad in red, white, and blue like a patriotic God, his blonde hair sparkled in the sunlight and his eyes looked like the sky on a cloudless day.

The sheer size of him almost made you whimper when he got closer. How a man was able to walk with such confidence and dominance yet still had an air about that said he was humble was a gift.

He even stopped to speak to a few kids who were eager to meet him and you couldn’t stop smiling when one little boy wrapped his arms around his legs in a tight hug.

Who wouldn’t fall for him?

You were certain you still had a dopey smile on your face when he looked your way.

“Beautiful.” The deep timbre of his voice sent a shiver down your spine when you realized he was speaking to you, which you tried to blame on pre-race jitters. “Your helmet. It’s beautiful,” he said when you didn’t reply.

You deflated slightly because of course he didn’t think you were beautiful. You were just a rider and not like the girls who flocked to him.

“Oh, thanks,” you croaked, clearing your throat immediately to try and save face. “I like daisies,” you added, mentally kicking yourself for stating the obvious. Why else would they be on your helmet?

The lopsided grin he gave you brought your smile back to your face. “You’re Daisy. Heard good things about you.”

Biting your lip and glancing away briefly, you didn’t catch his gaze following the movement. “You have?” You asked, slightly surprised that your name made the rounds.

“Yeah.” He nodded toward the track. “And I’m eager to see what you do out there.”

Your stomach did a somersault, but you held your head high. “I’ll try not to disappoint.”

“I doubt you could disappoint anyone,” he quietly spoke, looking over his shoulder when Bucky called out to him. “Gotta go. Good luck out there, Daisy.”

“Thanks, Champ,” you said, shifting back and forth on your feet when he stood up straight and flexed his gloved fingers. Maybe you shouldn’t have used his nickname. “I mean, Steve.”

You couldn’t read his expression, but you felt better when he gave you one more lopsided smile. “Champ sounds nice coming from you,” he said before he walked away.

You tried not to swoon or check out his ass when he went on his way, but Curtis clocked you immediately.

“You might wanna wipe that drool off your chin before your race,” he said, nudging you with his shoulder when you glanced at the ground. “Nervous? Don't be. You’re gonna kick ass out there.”

“Not nervous,” you said, biting your lip again. “He said he heard about me.”

“Yeah. Riders talk, you know that. And the guys saw you practice, so they know you have skills,” he said, sighing when you lifted your head and longingly stared after Steve. “Look, don’t let him distract you.”

“I’m not letting him distract me,” you argued, moving your helmet between your hands. “It’s just nice to get a compliment from such a skilled rider,” you said, especially since a lot of guys had a tendency to ignore you once they knew you loved to race.

Curtis narrowed his eyes. “I’m a skilled rider and I compliment you. I don’t see you walking around with hearts in your eyes and having a little crush on me.”

Your cheeks flamed before you hit his arm. “More like you bust my nonexistent balls. That’s not the same thing,” you said.

He didn’t move an inch when you hit him, the wall of muscle that he was. “Perk of being my friend,” he deadpanned, looking in the direction that Steve went, too. “I’m not one for gossip, but Champ is single.”

You put your helmet on so your friend couldn’t see your face. “Good to know, but I doubt I’m his type,” you said.

Because why would he like you?

“Rogers is a fucking idiot if he doesn’t want a girl like you,” he said sincerely before he hit your helmet with the palm of his hand, the familiar grumpy stare back on his face. “But enough of that shit. Get out there and win your fucking race.”

Which you did.

Steve's heart skipped a beat when you removed your helmet and smiled.

Because the truth was, you were exactly his type.

And he’d sweep you off your feet if you let him.

They're sweet, okay? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Steve Rogers Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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fayes-fics · 7 days

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Textual Encounter

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, modern AU

Summary: Text fic. Wrong number meet-cute over text.

Warnings: none... this is fluff and humour.

Word Count: 1.4k

Summary: Fic request fill for Anon (HERE). I kept it fun and fluffy, but yeah, I can see a sequel where they sext. Thanks to @colettebronte for the read-through. Enjoy! <3

Y/N: Hey Liz, it’s y/n y/l/n. Kindle Spa gave me your mobile. Said you had moved to another salon. I don’t trust anyone else to wax me tbh. Big date this week, kwim 😉 Can I get an appt? I’ll come to you. Doesn’t matter where.

BB: Errr, I think you have the wrong number…

Y/N: Not Liz?

BB: Nope, Ben here.

Y/N: Not a waxer, I presume?

BB: I may have waxed lyrical in my time, may even have lit a few candles. Have not waxed anyone no - my own body or anyone else’s. Yet. But I’m game to try anything once...

Y/N: Lol.

BB: Big date, eh?

Y/N: ….Yeah. Not that it's any of your business, stranger Ben.

BB: Fair. BB: Does it hurt?

Y/N: ??

BB: Getting waxed.

Y/N: Oh. Yeah. Like a motherfucker. But you sorta get used to it, tbh. And it’s so much less itchy than shaving regrowth, especially in sensitive areas… Wait, why am I having this convo with a complete stranger?!

BB: We don’t have to be strangers. BB: I’m Ben, 33, London. BB: I have no strong opinions on hair removal methods.

Y/N: lol. K. I’m y/n, 28, also London. Y/N: I, as you can see, do have some opinions.

BB: Hi y/n 👋 BB: I hope you can find Liz. Or someone else to assist with your hair needs.

Y/N: I would like it stated, for the record, I’m not hairy like a troll. I just like to keep things neat.

BB: The lady doth protest too much…

Y/N: You are cheeky for a stranger.

BB: Hey, I thought we agreed. Not strangers. Me Ben. You hairy troll.

Y/N: BLOCK.

BB: Just typing it doesn't work, you know.

Y/N: You should work at the Apple Genius Bar.

BB: Hmm, possibly. I do look good in blue. Or so I've been told.

Y/N: Always glad to provide career counselling.

BB: 🫡

4 days later.

BB: How’d your date go?

Y/N: That's odd. I don’t see a Genius Bar appt in my calendar…?

BB: iCal is a lying bastard. BB: I also assume you now can move faster through water.

Y/N: ??

BB: Waxed smooth like a dolphin…?

Y/N: 😆 Y/N: Entirely none of your business, but yes, actually. Well mostly. I leave some. Why am I telling you this?! Y/N: The guy was such a dud tho, I didn't get to show it off 🙁

BB: Please don't stop on my account. This is just delightful. BB: I apologise on behalf of all men.

Y/N: For what?

BB: Having 4 sisters, I find the safest answer here is usually… everything, of course. BB: But specifically, your rubbish date.

Y/N: Apology conditionally accepted. Y/N: 4 sisters?!

BB: Only conditional? What do I gots to do to make it unconditional? BB: Yeah, I know… I’ve got 3 brothers too. My parents were really into each other.

Y/N: IDK, serve a mean martini? Y/N: Understatement.

BB: That could be arranged. I took an online mixology course during lockdown. BB: My sister El declared I'm better than Stanley Tucci. Admittedly, that was after 4 espresso martinis… but I'm taking it. She's opinionated but the best one. They are a weird bunch tho 🤔

Y/N: WOAH WOAH WOAH. That's a bold claim.

BB: Well, there’s only one way to dispute it: try one for yourself…

Y/N: Smooth, Genius Bar, smooth.

BB: I do my best 🤷

1 day later.

Y/N: I can't get my AirPods to work.

BB: You do realise I didn’t actually follow your career advice?

Y/N: Urgh. Inconvenient. What use are you then?

BB: As I said. Cocktails. I’ll try my hand at waxing if you want.

Y/N: Best stick to the day job. Which is…?

BB: Graphic design.

Y/N: Oh, that’s quite cool.

BB: It pays the bills. You?

Y/N: MI-5

BB: Wow, you're a shit spy.

Y/N: It could be an excellent double bluff…

BB:

Y/N: Oh, we’ve graduated to memes now, have we, Genius Bar?

BB: It was called for.

Y/N: I’ll take it. Purely cos it's a Hemsworth.

BB: I would too, tbh.

Y/N: Bi?

BB: For a Hemsworth? Always.

Y/N: Anyone else?

BB: I’ll keep you posted.

Y/N: I'm on the edge of my seat.

3 days later.

BB: Oscar Issac.

Y/N: Good non sequitur evening to you, too, Genius Bar Ben.

BB: For the bi thing.

Y/N: Ahh. Got it. I can respect that.

BB: This is me, btw: www.instagram.com/benbridgerdesign. BB: Figured you can decide for yourself if I'm a creeper.

Y/N: Appreciated.

3 minutes later.

Y/N: You paint?

BB: I dabble

Y/N: Modesty will only make me like you more.

BB: You like me?! 🥹

Y/N: You didn't mention you were handsome.

BB: There is no way to respond to that without me sounding like a twat.

BB: But thank you 😊

Y/N: This is me: www.instagram.com/ynhandle

7 minutes later.

BB: Oh, Amalfi is so beautiful, isn't it?

Y/N: Wow. That's a deep cut. How far did you scroll back??

BB: 👀

Y/N: Yeah, it's beautiful. Shame it's tainted for me now. Was there with an ex.

BB: I saw. Very handsome.

Y/N: Are you sure you're not just into men full-stop?

BB: 🤷 BB: You’re very pretty, too.

Y/N: I’d believe it if you didn't mention my “very handsome” ex first…

BB: I call it like I see it. BB: I have had 4 whiskeys, tho, so make of that what you will.

Y/N: On a school night?!

BB: It’s my brother Ant's birthday. This is like non-optional drunk, I’ll have you know.

Y/N: Happy birthday to him.

BB: He says thanks. He’s also told me to get off my fucking phone. Which is rich. He is texting his wife nonstop.

Y/N: Hah! Safe travels through Whiskeytown, BenBridger 🫡

BB: I kinda miss Genius Bar…. 😞

Y/N: I can't win…

2 days later.

BB: Settle an argument for me.

Y/N: 🍿

BB: Col, younger brother, never stops eating... He claims Katz Deli is overrated. I argue it's touristy but still good. You’ve been. Where do you sit on this matter?

Y/N: You really did go thru my Insta, didn't you?? Y/N: Thanks for the follow, BTW.

BB: It's a compliment, I assure you. BB: Welcome. And same.

Y/N: Not complaining. And yeah, I agree with you, actually.

BB: Hah! Excellent!!

Y/N: Wait… your older brother is Ant, and your younger brother is Col? You’re Ben. So, like ABC?

BB: … I already warned you my family was weird.

Y/N: You did. You did.

BB: Now, please excuse me while I go gloat.

Y/N: 👍

5 mins later.

BB: Hi. This is Col. You must be the famous y/n. Ben’s in the bogs, and the mug left his phone on the table unlocked, so this is on him. BB: He like really likes you. Like a lot. Will you go on a date with him pls?

Y/N: Err, ok, hi Col. Y/N: Umm, I think Ben should be the one to ask me that. Don’t you?

BB: He’s too scared you’ll say no.

Y/N: I won't…

BB: EXCELLENT.

2 minutes later.

BB: I am so SO sorry about that 😬 He’s such a shit. BB: But… do you mean it?

Y/N: Ask me properly…

BB: Would you, y/n, like to go on a date with me? Please?

Y/N: I would be delighted to Ben. 😀

BB: 🙏 BB: Are you free on Thursday? Could I take you to dinner?

Y/N: Sounds wonderful.

BB: 7pm? Meet at Picadilly Circus? By Brasserie Zedel?

Y/N: I’ll be there 😀

BB: 😀

10 days later.

BB: I think you should know… Liz is an artiste 😮‍💨

Y/N: Stop texting me from my bed, you dork. 😘 Y/N: How do you take your coffee?

BB: I'm like 10 meters away. Why not just ask me?

Y/N: You started this, Genius Bar…

BB: Come back to bed, Mostly Hairless Troll.

Y/N: I asked for that, didn't I? 🤦

Benedict taglist, pt 1: @makaylan @longingintheuniverse @iboopedyournose @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kmc1989 @desert-fern @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @sya-skies

#benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton fluff #benedict bridgerton imagine #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton #bridgerton fluff #bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x female reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x female reader #bridgerton x you #bridgerton x y/n

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such-expensive-mistakes · 6 months

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When Oliver Queen was dead, he ended up in the Infinite Realms, where he inadvertently became the mentor to teen ghost hero Phantom. After Ollie came back to life, he made a point of reaching out to Phantom, just in case the kid needed anything.

DCxDP Week prompt: found family

Author's Notes: I've tried to make this accessible as possible to those of you who aren't familiar with the Arrowfam, but here are links to character primers on Oliver Queen, Connor Hawke and Mia Dearden if you want them. If you are familiar with GA comics, then just know that this is set loosely during the 2001 run. And finally, the idea of a hero in the Infinite Realms helping mentor Danny was largely inspired by Blueseabird2's fic Grave Promises. (It's excellent! If you haven't read it, go do that!)

"Do you remember it?" Ollie asks, looking at Superman out of the corner of his eye. They're standing in front of Oliver's grave. Always made the right enemies. It's a hell of an epitaph; Ollie wonders who came up with it. Roy or Dinah, probably.

"Remember..." Superman says.

"Being dead."

Supes gives him that same look everyone seems to be giving Ollie these days, like he's not quite sure if Ollie is all there in the head.

"Never mind." Oliver waves a hand. "Just thinking."

He does remember it, is the thing. He remembers the endless Infinite Realms, as green as any of Hal's constructs. He remembers the ghosts-- the ones who had originally been alive like him, and the ones that had never lived at all. Humans and aliens and otherdimensional beings, all together in one place. He remembers being in the same costume he'd died in, only color-flipped to red. (That was just wrong. Red was Roy's color, not Ollie's.)

And he remembers Phantom.

He'd met Phantom pretty early on. Time in the Infinite Realms was tricky; it didn't move like time did on Earth. Sometimes it went slower, sometimes faster, sometimes it even seemed to go backwards. So he didn't remember exactly how long he'd been in the Realms before coming across Phantom, but it didn't feel like long.

Phantom had been chasing down some magical artifact when he'd come across Oliver-- or rather, Red Arrow-- who had picked a fight with an asshole ghost way more powerful than him.

Some things never changed. But hey, ghost arrows were pretty nifty.

Phantom had helped him out, and in return Ollie had offered to help Phantom with tracking down the artifact he was looking for. As they talked, it quickly became obvious that Phantom was doing the whole teen hero thing-- and not just in the Realms, but on Earth. He clammed up when Ollie asked too many questions, but it was pretty clear that he didn't have a mentor or anything.

"Do you have the Teen Titans in your world?" Oliver asked, having learned by that point that the Infinite Realms connected every dimension out there.

"Yeah," Phantom had said, looking wary.

"You should talk to them," Oliver said. "It helps to have someone out there on your side, who knows what you're dealing with." The Titans had been good for Roy. Not just friends, although they were that, too, but an extra support system.

But Phantom shook his head. "I can't." And then he'd gone on to describe the Anti-Ecto Acts and the GIW.

Ollie had never exactly been a fan of the government-- too much corruption, too many rich assholes using the system to protect themselves-- but this still managed to surprise him. And while he was pretty sure his own world's Teen Titans wouldn't stand for this kind of thing-- or even the JLA, no matter how badly they sometimes overreached-- he had no way of knowing whether Phantom's Teen Titans were the same ones he knew.

"Tell you what," Ollie said. "Next time you get a chance, track me down and I'll show you a few things. I don't know how much help I'll be with superpowers, but--"

"Really?" Phantom had asked, then surprised Ollie by hugging him.

That was the start of it. They'd tracked down the artifact, Phantom had left the Realms to go back and do his hero thing on Earth, and Oliver was left to second-guess himself until the next time Phantom came around.

Oliver wasn't exactly a perfect mentor. He'd done his best for Roy, but there were so many things he would do differently if he had the chance. But he was better than nothing, which was what Phantom had been working with before.

Phantom didn't need to learn archery; he had superpowers. But Ollie managed to teach him a thing or two about picking your shot and waiting for the right moment. About trusting your instincts and dodging bullets (or ectoblasts).

Phantom was cagey about anything that wasn't hero work, but Oliver managed to glean a few details. He had a couple of living friends who helped him out, he was frequently chased down by ghost hunters, and most of the town he was based in didn't think particularly highly of him. And that was on top of his whole rogue's gallery of villainous ghosts, not to mention the GIW.

"You can't make people like you," Ollie advised him. "Even if you do all the right things. You just have to trust yourself and ignore the public opinion." God knew plenty of people had hated the Green Arrow over the years.

It had been rewarding, in a way Ollie had almost forgotten, watching Phantom grow as a hero. Watching him grow more confident and more skilled-- and Ollie wasn't giving himself credit for all of that, but he'd helped bring those qualities out.

And then, Oliver came back to life.

"Where to next?" Roy asks, as they drive out of Central City. Ollie appreciates that Roy is willing to follow his lead on this, even though it's clear Roy thinks he's being ridiculous. Sure, Wally would probably have let Ollie have that old ring of Barry's if he'd asked, just like the JLA would probably have let him have the diamond-tipped arrow. But those things weren't theirs to keep or give in the first place.

"Amity Park, Illinois."

Roy gives him a skeptical look over the top of his sunglasses. "The hell is in Amity Park?" He's bracing himself to hear about some other memorabilia Ollie left behind upon his death, something else that wasn't disposed of the way Ollie had requested. Something else that other people-- even Roy-- think insignificant.

That would be easier to explain than this.

"Maybe nothing," Oliver says. "But I need to be sure."

Finding Amity Park in the first place is a task and a half. It's not on the map Roy keeps in his glovebox, and they have to ask directions at multiple gas stations across Illinois before they arrive.

It's immediately clear that they're in the right place. Amity Park is a small city-- barely even a city, really. But the property damage evident on the streets and the buildings is on par with the aftermath of an alien invasion.

Roy slides off his shades. "What on earth..." He glances at Oliver. "Ollie, what is this?"

A green streak shoots across the sky, followed by a white one.

Phantom.

"Follow them!" Ollie points at the ghosts.

By the time they arrive, it's a stand-off. The other ghost has disappeared, but Phantom is hovering twenty feet off the ground, dodging blasts from a couple in brightly colored hazmat suits.

The Fentons. Ollie had heard a few stories about them while he was in the Infinite Realms, though Phantom had been reluctant to talk about them.

"Ollie," Roy says. In his voice, Ollie can hear all the suppressed rage he himself is feeling, watching a child-- a superpowered child, but a child nonetheless-- getting shot at.

"Not yet." Ollie wants to help, but he doesn't want to make things worse by jumping in without thinking. Their help isn't needed in the end; Phantom manages to disappear from sight while the ghost hunters are distracted.

Oliver tells the whole story to Roy over dinner at the local fast food joint.

"Jesus Christ," Roy says.

"So you see why I want to talk to Phantom," Ollie says.

"Aren't you already training two kids already? You gonna add all of this on top?"

"Connor doesn't need training. He could probably teach me a thing or two. And no one is training Mia in anything." Okay, that last part isn't quite true; Oliver knows for a fact that Connor has been giving Mia lessons in archery and hand-to-hand. But as long as she's not trying to put on a costume and fight crime, he'll pretend he doesn't know. Hell, it makes him feel better, knowing that she has a trick or two up her sleeve.

"Phantom can't be much older than she is," Roy says, a hint of judgment in his tone.

"Phantom is already dead," he says. Roy flinches a little. "And he doesn't have a Hal Jordan to bring him back."

They go back to their burgers. It's not until Oliver is crumpling up his wrapper that he speaks again.

"Look," Ollie says. "This is a lot bigger than Phantom. And based on what I know of him, he's not going to want to leave Amity Park. But I want to let him know that someone's got his back."

Roy claps him on the shoulder. "More than just one person."

Tracking down Phantom for a conversation is harder than it sounds. Oliver doesn't know how much time he even spends out here, rather than in the Infinite Realms. Not to mention the handy ghost power of invisibility.

He suits up and stakes out a rooftop downtown, with Roy doing the same on the other side of town. He's just getting ready to pack it in for the night and try it again tomorrow when a familiar form materializes next to him.

"Arrow?" Phantom asks.

Oliver smiles. "Hey, kid."

"What-- how-- you're alive?" Phantom sputters a little.

"Am now," Ollie says. "A friend of mine brought me back." He gives a quick overview-- Green Lantern, godlike power, decided what the world was missing was one Oliver Queen.

"I'm going to do what I can about the Anti-Ecto Acts and the GIW," Oliver says. "But if you ever need anything, give me a call. Or just track me down in Star." He hands a slip of paper with his phone number and email on it to Phantom.

"Danny," Phantom says.

"Sorry?"

"My name. It's Danny."

"Oliver." Ollie holds out his hand and Danny shakes it. "Good to meet you, Danny."

For a while, he only hears from Danny through irregular emails and the very occasional phone call. Ollie leans on his Justice League acquaintances to help repeal the Anti-Ecto Acts and get rid of the GIW. It's slow going-- much slower than Ollie would like. Too many JL members are advising caution, wanting to find out more about ghosts and how dangerous they might be before they take a stand. Luckily, neither Superman and Wonder Woman were happy about Oliver's news, and hold a lot of sway with the American public. And rather conveniently, a number of reporters have suddenly begun looking into the Anti-Ecto Acts, stirring up public sentiment against them even more than before.

Things are looking good. And then, Danny shows up at the front door of Oliver's brownstone.

Oliver is making himself a sandwich when he hears the knock at the door. Mia (who had finally gotten Ollie to agree to let her be Speedy a few weeks back) is with the Teen Titans for the weekend, and Connor is working at the youth center for most of the day, so there's no one else here to answer the door. Ollie wipes his hands on a kitchen towel, and opens the door.

Ollie doesn't know it's Danny at first. The Danny he met was a ghost, complete with jumpsuit and white hair and superpowers. The kid that shows up at Ollie's front door is a living, breathing kid. He's got pale skin and dark hair and he can't be any older than sixteen. He's a little on the thin side, though given his age, he could just be going through a growth spurt, and the backpack slung over his shoulder is decorated with a NASA patch.

"Ollie?" the kid asks.

"That's me," Ollie says. "What can I do for you?"

"It's Danny. Phantom," he clarifies in a low voice. "From Amity Park."

He can see it, now that he knows to look. The face and build are the same, just color-swapped.

“I need your help,” Danny continues.

The kid looks like he’s about to fall over from exhaustion or stress or both.

Ollie opens the door a little wider. "Come on in. I was just making myself some lunch. You can tell me what's going on."

Danny follows him into the kitchen and takes a seat at the counter. Ollie finishes the sandwiches and slides one over to Danny.

Danny doesn't pick it up at first, busy fidgeting with the sleeves of his hoodie. “I don’t know where to start."

"Well, I gotta say," Oliver says. "You're looking pretty alive for a dead guy. I mean, same could be said for myself, but I told you how that happened."

Danny grimaces. "About that. It's kind of complicated."

Oliver leans against the opposite counter. "Hit me with it."

He already knows it's bad. He was worried about Phantom in the first place; that's why he gave Danny a way to contact him if necessary. Whatever made Danny travel halfway across the country to see him? It can't be good.

"My parents are the Fentons," Danny starts.

Immediately Oliver knows the story is going to be worse than he anticipated. "The ghost hunters. The ones who built the portal." Ollie had heard all about that portal during his sojourn in the Infinite Realms-- some from Phantom, some from other ghosts.

"Yeah. Well, the portal didn't exactly work at first. My friends wanted to see it, and..." Danny shrugs. "It worked better than anyone gave them credit for, it's just that they accidentally put the switch on the inside."

He can see where this story is going. "And you accidentally turned it on."

"Yeah. It killed me, but all the ectoplasm coming through the portal brought me back to life. So I'm only half-dead." Danny finishes up his sandwich but Oliver, who is familiar with the eating habits of superhero teenagers, hands him another one.

"I'm guessing your folks don't know."

"My sister does. My parents don't." Danny fidgets with the sleeves of his hoodie. "That's not important."

It seems a little bit important.

“It don’t know if there’s anything you can do,” Danny adds. “I just… I didn’t know where else to go.”

“You can stay here as long as you need to," Ollie says. There's an extra bedroom that Stanley used as an office, back when this place belonged to him. He'll need to get the junk cleaned out, but it should work for Danny. "But it might help if I had a few more details. Is someone gonna come looking for you-- or for Phantom?"

"I don't think so," Danny says. "Well, the GIW might, but they're not super active outside of Amity Park."

"We'll handle them if they show up." Oliver would love the chance to put a few arrows in them, and he's sure Connor and Mia would feel the same.

There's obviously more to this story than Danny is currently telling him, but Ollie isn't gonna press. Not yet. Long and difficult experience has taught him how badly that usually goes when dealing with teenagers.

Danny finishes up his lunch, and Ollie shows him around, eventually leaving him to hang out in the living room and watch TV. Ollie himself starts packing up the junk in the spare room. Danny might have to sleep on the couch for a day or two, until they get a bed for him to use, but it's an alright couch. Ollie has certainly slept in less comfortable places.

He doesn't realize how much time has passed until he hears Connor call him from downstairs.

"Dad?"

His tone of voice is carefully measured, but it's enough to remind Oliver that Danny is downstairs-- and that he didn't let Connor know about their new guest.

He dashes down the stairs and, sure enough, Connor and Danny are watching each other warily from other sides of the living room. Danny in particular looks like he wants to bolt.

"This is Danny," Oliver says. "He's gonna be staying with us for a while. And Danny, this is my son, Connor. He's the other Green Arrow."

"Nice to meet you," Connor says to Danny. Then, "Dad, can I talk to you for a minute?"

Ollie follows Connor downstairs to the training room in their basement. He has no idea how far Danny's enhanced senses extend outside the Infinite Realms-- or even if they work at all when he's not a ghost-- but Ollie suspects this conversation might not be as private as Connor is hoping.

"Are you sure about this?" Connor asks.

"He doesn't have anywhere else," Ollie says. "What do you want me to do?"

Connor runs his hand over his face. "I don't know. But have you even talked to Mia about this? When did you even meet this kid?"

"It was a sudden development," Ollie says. "So no, I didn't. But I don't think Mia's gonna tell me to send him packing." He knows that's not what Connor is worried about; for all her bravado, Mia is still insecure about many things. "As for how I met him... that's a bit of a story."

"Okay," Connor finally says. "As long as you're sure."

Ollie clasps his shoulder. "I appreciate it."

They don't explain anything further to Connor that night, which is probably unfair to him. But Ollie doesn't really want to make Danny explain more than once, and Mia won't be back until the next day.

Danny sleeps on the couch, and in the morning, he helps Ollie and Connor clean out the spare room. Mia shows up a little after noon, having gotten a ride back from one of her powered friends, and finds the three of them eating pizza in the living room.

"You better have saved me some," she says, as she tosses her overnight bag on the floor.

"Didn't your friends feed you?" Ollie asks, but he passes her the box of pepperoni.

Mia takes a slice and perches on the back of the couch, right next to Danny. "Hi! I'm Mia." She gives Danny a look that is probably intended to be flirtatious.

Danny looks a little like a deer in the headlights. "Uh, hi?"

Connor raises an eyebrow at Oliver, and yeah, maybe having a teenage boy staying in the same house as Mia is a bad idea. Then again, he's closer to her age than the guys she usually hits on.

"This is Danny," Oliver says. "Danny, Mia is my other kid. She's also Speedy."

They give Connor and Mia the cliff's notes version on ghosts and the Infinite Realms. Danny knows a lot more than Ollie does about all of it, but he's much worse at explaining. He either gets lost on tangents about inconsequential details, or he assumes they have more baseline knowledge than they do.

"I'm sorry," Mia says. "Can we go back to the part where ghosts exist?"

"We've fought actual demons," Connor says. "How are ghosts harder to believe?"

"Ollie was never a demon," Mia says with a shrug. Then she narrows her eyes at Oliver. "Were you?"

Ollie laughs. "Definitely not."

The next week or so is pretty quiet, by their standards. The Green Arrows and Speedy go out and handle low-level crime in the city every night, though Phantom stays in at Ollie's suggestion; if the GIW is looking for him, it's better if he lies low. It's a little worrying how easily he agrees. It had never been that easy to convince him to do anything when they were training in the Infinite Realms.

Mia, who is better with technology than Ollie is, helps Danny send a message to his friends, letting them know he's safe.

"It's better if I don't give them too many details," Danny says. "Anyone who's looking for me will be watching them. All of our devices are encrypted, thanks to Tucker, but I don't want to take any chances."

Danny comes with them to help out at the youth center, even while Ollie tells him that he's welcome to stay home and play video games or whatever. Danny hasn't said anything about it, and so Ollie hasn't either, but Danny doesn't seem to want to be left alone for long.

Oliver wonders if that's because he's worried about himself or about them.

"So, where do your folks think you are?" Ollie asks at one point.

Danny shrugs. "Does it really matter?"

"Well, I'd like to know if I'm likely to be charged with kidnapping." Connor and Mia both shoot him judgmental looks, but it's not like either of them were under any illusions about Ollie's ability to be delicate. "I mean, I can handle it if I am, but I'd like to be prepared."

"I don't think you have to worry about that," Danny says, and that's the subject closed for the moment.

Mia corners Ollie one afternoon at the youth center, while Danny is playing basketball with some of the kids. Danny is losing, badly. Turns out he's incredibly clumsy when he's not using his powers. The kids don't seem to mind, though, and Danny is a pretty good sport about it.

"We're keeping him, right?" Mia asks.

Oliver gives Mia a level look. He hasn't noticed anything beyond some flirting on Mia's side, but that doesn't mean much.

"Not like that," Mia says, rolling her eyes. "I mean, he's cute, but he's kind of dense."

"Funny, I'm pretty sure the same has been said about me," Ollie jokes.

"Whatever he's not telling us... it's got to be pretty bad, right?" Mia says. "But he seems happy here. And we won't let anything happen to him."

There's a lot Oliver could say here: Danny has parents, he has friends, he has a home he obviously misses. By almost every measure, he's far more powerful than Ollie or his kids, and whatever has him scared is quite possibly out of their league. But the truth is, he feels the way Mia does.

"It's up to him," Oliver finally says. "But he's welcome to stay as long as he wants to."

Green Arrow and Speedy are crouched on a rooftop, taking aim at a couple of drug dealers, when Connor's voice crackles across the comms.

"I've got eyes on some guys in white suits," he says. "At Fifty-first and Green."

That's halfway across town, though nowhere near the brownstone. If something goes down in the next few minutes, Connor is going to be on his own.

"Don't engage," Ollie says. "We're on our way."

They break up the drug deal and make their way toward Connor, who has been updating them on the GIW's movements the whole while.

"I think they're looking for something," Connor says. "They keep stopping and checking some kind of device-- I think it's a tracker of some kind."

"They're looking for Danny," Mia says.

"How did they even know he's here?" Ollie wonders, but neither Mia nor Connor have any idea. He makes a split-second decision. "Mia, head back home and keep an eye on Danny. Tell him Connor and I are handling it."

Mia is obviously put out by being sent away from the action, but she complies. Oliver catches up with Connor, perching next to him on the edge of a roof. Down on the street, a couple of men dressed all in white exit a white van and wave around a couple of handheld electronic devices. They don't look up, which seems like a mistake from people who ostensibly deal with ghosts. Convenient for the Green Arrows, though.

Trailing the GIW agents is a piece of cake. Their all-white getup makes them clearly visible from a distance, and they seem to rely on their equipment rather than their eyes or ears.

Their apparent incompetence makes Oliver get a little cocky, and that's where things go wrong. He lands on the building closest to the agents, sure that they won't look up and see him-- and he's right.

Unfortunately, their device starts beeping just at that moment, and the two men are suddenly on high alert. Ollie gets the bad feeling that something about him is what set it off. They pull out their guns and look around wildly, until one of the geniuses gets the bright idea to look up. That's when they start shooting wildly at Oliver and Connor.

Their aim isn't great, and whatever kind of energy weapons they're using are only powerful enough to do some superficial damage to the building facade, but Ollie isn't eager to find out how it would feel to get hit by one of those. Fortunately, he and Connor are both much better shots than these guys.

They shoot the weapons out of the agents' hands first, then Ollie puts an arrow through one guy's hand while Connor puts one through the other guy's foot.

For a minute, it seems like it's going to be that easy. Then, three more white vans come peeling down the street and a dozen more agents pour out. Now, it's Oliver and Connor who are pinned down, ducking behind the roof's edge to avoid getting hit by those energy weapons.

Ollie puts an arrow through another guy's shoulder, and is just a smidge too slow getting back out of the way. The energy blast is going to hit him right in the shoulder. He braces to take the hit--

A green shield appears in front of him. The energy blast hits it and dissipates.

For a moment, Ollie thinks it's the work of a Lantern. And then he sees Phantom, a bright white and glowing target hovering above the street.

The GIW agents have completely disregarded Ollie and Connor, and are frantically shooting at Phantom. Phantom is dodging the blasts easily; there's no sign of the clumsiness that he's beset with when he's a normal human. One of the agents gets an arrow through his shoulder, and Ollie spots Mia perched on a roof across the street.

In hindsight, he really should have expected this. Neither of those kids are the type to sit at home when they could be helping instead. Even so, he doesn't like it.

With Danny distracting the agents, it's much easier for Ollie, Connor and Mia to hit them. They may be outnumbered, but the GIW agents are terrible shots. At some point, the agents seem to realize this, too, and flee back into their vans, limping and bleeding, and drive away.

"Follow them?" Connor asks.

"No," Ollie says. "I don't think they're going to try anything else tonight."

The four of them make their way back to the brownstone.

"I told you to stay here with Danny," Ollie tells Mia, once they're inside and putting away their gear.

"Did you really think I was going to listen?" Mia asks.

Ollie runs his hands over his face. "A man can dream."

"Besides," Mia adds, "from where I was standing it seemed like we bailed you two out. Right, Danny?"

With a flash of light, Danny transforms back to his human form. "I'm sorry," he says. "I don't know how they knew I was here."

"I'm not sure they did," Connor says. "They were looking pretty hard for something before they went after the two of us."

"But they were looking for me specifically," Danny says.

Ollie gives Danny a closer look. He's clearly nervous. More than just nervous, he looks like he's on the verge of taking off and running.

"What makes you so sure they're here for you?" Oliver asks. It's not that he doesn't trust Danny's instincts, but he doesn't feel like he's got the whole picture.

Danny leans against the workbench, almost knocking a set of half-finished arrows to the floor. "They've been trying to catch Phantom since the beginning," he says. "I kind of made their lives difficult."

"Good," Connor says, crossing his arms.

"Plus, a lot of Amity Parkers kind of... don't like Phantom? So the GIW heard about what a menace I was, and that didn't help. But then you got Superman and Wonder Woman and all of them to talk about how bad the GIW and Anti-Ecto Acts are, and that helped, and-- I had it handled. "

"So what happened?" Mia asks.

"My parents found out. And I kind of freaked out? And I flew off, and the GIW caught up to me." Danny looks around, takes in their stricken expressions, and hurries to add, "Not for long! But then I headed back home and my parents were telling everyone I was dead. I didn't know what to do, so I came here."

Oliver's head hurts just thinking about this mess. He walks across the room and wraps an arm around Danny. "We'll get this figured out," he promises, though he's not entirely sure how. "First things first. What do you want to do about your parents?"

Mia scowls at him-- she's clearly already formed her opinion on Danny's parents. Ollie can't say he disagrees, but he's made his own share of mistakes in the parenting department. He hopes that the Fentons might be able to come around, if only because Danny clearly loves them.

"The GIW..." Danny begins.

"I've got a few ideas about them." Ollie is a little torn between hunting them down himself, pointing Supes or someone in their direction, or letting it leak to the public that these government lackeys chased a kid halfway across the country. "Do you want to go back to your parents?"

"I don't know," he says. "I miss them, but... I don't know if they'll believe I'm really me. They think all ghosts are evil. But even if they believed me..." He trails off.

"You can stay here," Mia insists. "Right, Ollie?"

"Of course he can." He didn't actually need Mia's prompting for that. "You're welcome to stick around as long as you want, but you should at least stay until we get the GIW shut down."

Danny looks around the room at the three of them. Whatever he sees must reassure him because after a long minute, he nods. "Okay. At least until then."

#dc x dp fic #dcxdp #dpxdc #green arrow #arrowfam #dpxdc week 2023

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honestsycrets · 10 months

Text

dedication | young!miguel o'hara x reader

❛ pairing | young geneticist!miguel o'hara x scientist!reader

❛ type | oneshot, explicit.

❛ summary | alchemax is a dangerous place to work. miguel's new assistant may be over her head. maybe he can help her, though.

❛ tags | virgin reader, f!reader, shitty science, plot heavy, loose canon references, literary liberties, loss of virginity, overprotective Miguel o'hara, jealous miguel o'hara, some objectification, workplace politics, aftercare (as requested), corruption (is it tho?), bc what bc, Spanish is not translated, young!miguel, heel-foot fetish, somewhat romantic.

❛ fulfilled request | can we please have a miguel x virgin reader and he didn’t even know until he was already putting it in?? And then voila his corruption kink unexpectedly growS? @a--dedicated--fangirl

❛ sy’s notes | miguel sort of works on that whole corruption aspect throughout this fic, but i wanted to meld these two ideas together to create a reader who is entirely dedicated to Miguel. This piece was a bit long for me.

“Miguel, your new assistant is here.”

On paper, you’re an excellent candidate for the genetics program.

An excellent GPA, renowned company internships, decent publications, and a diverse upbringing. It was all good. Great, even. But as the head of the genetics program at Alchemax, he has a little thing called priorities. Interviewing everyone himself was low on the rung of shit he felt like he should be doing. There was, however, one little, itty bitty, tiny problem with bringing you on board.

“Dr. O’Hara? ¿Estas bien?”

That shirt-- is not meant to hold those-- His brain was left field, glimpsing at them. A slightly sheer button-up revealed the outline of your bustier and its inability to conceal your body. They should have been illegal. He was pretty sure they were illicit in the handbook on his table. He should really read that again. Maybe then he wouldn’t be salivating over something as simple as a co-worker-- He needed to get out of the lab. The bleached walls tightened around him, the space smaller than he remembered. He was going to get caught.

Realistically, the lab was full of witty people. Many of them were witty men with subpar looks and stupider dicks. He couldn’t bring himself to say anything about it. Not only because your lips were plump, painted petal-pink, and kissable or because the depth of your sultry eyes went straight in the dick. No, but because that would be improper of a man of his stature to tell one of the only women in his care that she was too gorgeous for the job you were clearly qualified for.

“Sí, coño,” He fixed his glasses, crooked on his broad nose. He stood up from his desk and grabbed his lab coat, swirling it around his broad shoulders. If he wasn’t mistaken, you tracked the movement with your eyes. “Do you want a cafecito? Miss…”

You told him your name. He mulled it over on his tongue, lathing it in a gentle acknowledgment. Cemented it in a place he wouldn't forget. You tinked your head to the side, your lashes fluttering when he cleared his throat. Great, just shocking--

“After you,” he headed for the door. He held it open for you, plastering his back to the wood. It didn't matter. You slid by closer than he’d prefer, your hand catching on his belt buckle with muttered apologies. This wasn’t going to end well.

Cafecito is an excellent excuse to pull his dumbass together.

It also calms his nerves, centers his mind, and allows him to compartmentalize. Whether or not you could hold your own wasn’t his issue, his issue was the necessity of someone he could trust. Ugly, beautiful-- so long as they were efficient, Miguel would make due. The cafeteria was a large and clean space. The many tables were crowded with wrap-around stations for poorly crafted, misery-inducing meals. Miguel paid and took a seat at a creaky table. One where he could see the door open, shut, and keep an eye on the comings and goings of meager scientists and annoying managers.

“You’ll be working with me.”

You pursed your lips around the warm cup of coffee, taking a ginger sip. He noted your lipstick stain that remained as you pushed the cup toward the middle of the table you shared with him. This damn suit vest was stifling. He gave you a long, slow look, tilting his head to the fact that you’d not drunk anything. It’d be rude to acknowledge.

“Delgado told me,” you smiled warmly. “He said you’re a genius. I don’t know that I believe in geniuses.”

Hmph. Delgado, things fell into place. That sycophant knew what he liked. He also knew that Miguel was better than him, always was, and always would be. Miguel offered you a slick smile, convinced he could assure you otherwise if he needed to. “Delgado says a lot of things. I’m surprised he gave you to me.”

“Why is that, O’Hara?” the way his name slipped off your tongue was a hot sin. If only he believed in a god. His eyelids shifted over his eyes, heavy-lidded and dark.

“You’re beautiful. He likes to collect beautiful things,” Miguel tried, curious. Your nails clicked in succession over the table. A repetitive click, click, click. He would be annoyed too if he were no more than a ploy. A distraction. Miguel wasn’t sure that it wasn’t working. His eyes flickered down, catching one of your palms curling into a tight fist, tension rolling through your fingers and up your arms. “He knows I do too.”

You leaned in, close enough that he could spot the unique freckles spread out in a crescent moon beneath a layer of makeup on your face. Beautiful. “I’m not here to belong to you, O’Hara. I hope you know that.”

He was off to a great, fantastic start.

“Understood.” Miguel leaned back in his chair, a smirk creeping up his lips. Or, believe that you believed that. You spared him any more mincing comments. Appeased by his suggestion, you brought your drink back to your lips.

“Good. What are we sequencing?”

“Me.”

You swallowed. “You? You can’t be--”

Mhm, he stared, lips pressed tightly together. “You’ll code my DNA. Then we’ll splice it.”

"With what?"

"You'll see."

“Is this your little,” you swirled your finger in a circle. “Pet project?”

Unfortunately not, he would have liked to say. That information was confidential, and though you worked on the project, there were levels to his willingness to involve you in the delicate flow of workplace politics. Still, you might make a healthy distraction from his work. Miguel took a swig of his cafecito, boring into the black substance.

“Something like that.”

Having a pretty assistant means things don’t always get done according to schedule. Not quickly enough, not by far. There is a time limit to everything at Alchemax. The quicker, the better. Thus this project demanded more hours of his time. The project was spliced between the work required of him by superiors and you, your quirks, and your preferences.

Miguel has learned a great many things about you in a short amount of time. You don’t appreciate misplaced pet names. You actually can’t handle coffee because of the caffeine or the sugar. He also learns things about himself. How little he likes when Delgado comes to check on progress because he isn’t actually checking on shit. He's checking you out.

He likes to weasel his nasty fingers around the door, peering in to try and find out what specimen he’s actually working on. Miguel was much too smart for that. His beady eyes caught Miguel over your shoulder, mumbling up to him about a new finding in tests you ran earlier that day. Your face mask twirled around your index finger, finally free and at a documentation workspace. Funny, because he clearly redacts information from your well-recorded notes on the daily. You refuse to include less.

“Hey Mike,” he said. “How are things… Oh hey, you. You settling in, honey? Mike treating you ok? I can discipline him for you.”

“As if you could,” Miguel huffed.

But Delgado spying on you, the way you record progress by pouting out your lips, shifting between paper and your lab reports, was intolerable. Because... well, he has sensitive information on there. Your nose scrunches in distaste, but you bow your head just slightly as a hello. He might be his supervisor, but Miguel doesn’t need one to know why this asshole is in his lab turning his smarmy brown eyes over the way you sit: one leg over the other. You seem to realize it too, trailing your eyes over his gaudy suit to Miguel’s sinewy hand on your shoulder.

“Stop being a creep,” Miguel complained, “She has actual work to do.”

“Actual work? As opposed to--“

“Yes, what you do.” Miguel spat out. You eschewed a giggle, turning your face over a pristine white lab jacket that thankfully, you had no qualms in wearing. Otherwise, he might not finish any work in the lab at all.

“I supervise--

“You’re still talking but we’re not listening,” Miguel waved him off, plucking up papers by your side. Your eyes snap up to Miguel’s deep chocolate eyes hidden behind the thin frame of his metal glasses, waiting for a proper response. “Goodbye, Aaron.”

Miguel walks to the door, locks it with a click, and returns to your side. You glance at his white lab coat, fluttering around his tapered waist. He loves the way your eyes look at him with a soft, inviting expression, beseeching him to come to sit by your side as he always did. “Not a fan of Delgado, I take it.”

“Are you?” Miguel sits with his legs spread, his fingers threading through his thick brown hair. You set your papers down, swiveled toward him. The wheels of your rolling chair squeak on either side of his thick, black boots. His eye catches your thick thighs, squashed between your midi skirt, its atrocious slip causing him discomfort. His hand leaves his thick hair, dropping in unison side by side.

“I can’t stand being called honey, Mike.”

“Shut up.”

The days proceed similarly. Days filled with brushing past him as he slides in samples and reagents. He might lose a sample, clattering on the floor, and you always rush to help him clean up. Lunch together, because no matter how late he eats, you’re there beside him. Then as night falls, you stay until he has finished whatever he needs to do.

“Time to eat something,” you slipped into his office. The clock ticked past midnight. Miguel flicked through handwritten pages of information that did not need to be recorded in computer files. You watched his eyes scan over the ink on the page, acknowledging you with a grumpy grunt. Not now, not when he was so close to finishing the last section of the project.

“Empanada,” you turned his palm over, placing the flaky pastry in his hand. Caramelized apple. He loved a good apple empanada. He watched as you walked over to the coffee maker, drawing him a warm cafecito just how he liked it. Miguel dropped his pen, stretching out his aching spine.

“Gracias. From where?”

“I made them,” you set down the cup a little harder than intended. The surface rippled, throwing hot coffee drips onto his pages. His eyes flickered up from the pages to your eyes. Without thinking, he blathers:

“That so?” A pause. “Don’t you have a man?”

“Miguel. With this sequencing project, you’re the only man in my life. Shut up and eat the empanada.”

“Huh. Good. I like that.” He swallowed the empanada with a bob of his head, his tongue lathing over his teeth for any more of the sweet sugar. He stood up, finding your expression soft, drawn out by a sense of longing that he couldn’t imagine he saw.

“You like my sad love life?”

Yes.

“No, we have a company event. A ball,” Miguel chided, his tone gentling as he slipped away from his desk, abandoning his steamy coffee on his desk. He backed out of the doorway, “It’s all Stone’s politics. You know how these things are. I have to go. Come with me.”

“Is that a request or an order?”

“A date.”

I’d love to. Your words were the only thing that made tonight bearable. Slinking his tanned skin into a dark blue suit that cinched everything too tight was… unbearable. It clung to his skin like a second skin and choked off his air. But it might be worth it to see your face-- just maybe. He tracked the fluttering tails of fish behind bulletproof glass, following them as they fluttered away into their rock. He wished he could too.

“Miguel?”

“You’re here,” he turned around, dropping the champagne he idly held in his hand. It went forgotten by his boot as you called his name again. His gaze fixed on yours, the slinky navy blue dress caused his heart to thrum through his chest, chasing the sight of your body at his feet, picking shards of glass up with the aid of a worker, apologizing profusely for the mess. A soft puff of breath slipped from his lips as you stood back up, gripping your purse a little harder in your hands. He ran his hand over his jaw, drawing himself back to his senses.

“Miggy,” he husked out. “Call me Miggy.”

“You look handsome, Miggy,” his name felt unreal on your lips until he felt the pressure on his elbow. Your soft hands slunk around his, cradling him for some security in the face of the large doors. He shook himself back to his senses. Right, there was a reason he was here. “But shouldn’t we go?”

He should have-- but did he want to? No, not really. He didn’t want to see Stone’s greasy face, let Aaron take a peek at how you looked dolled up, or any of the rest of these fuckers. What he wanted was something else entirely.

“Listen.” Miguel stopped, his other hand coming to the jeweled bracelet on your wrist. The doors to the ballroom lapsed, groups of older men filtering in and out with their pieces of the night: doting wives, longing husbands, and partners that their wives or husbands probably didn’t know about. “Don’t wander off from me. They’re all snakes. All of them.”

“Even you?”

“Hermosa,” you didn’t leer at him. “I’m the least of your worries.”

He wasn’t wrong. The ballroom was dolled up in lush fabrics, fine china, and a copious amount of food as it was every year. Miguel found the attempt to distract from what really went on behind closed doors at Alchemax a bit cloying. This year the music was at least tolerable. It filtered out into the ballroom in a syrupy melodies driven on by the soft, promises of rich men for the exchange of sex. For much of the night, he could stomach the various men poking and prodding at him about his impending research. So long as you were here.

“Miggy,” you breathed, a hot puff of air against his ear. He leaned down, his hand atop of yours. “Will you dance with me?”

Dance? Miguel had two left feet-- it’s why he was a geneticist. For all the work you did on his behalf in the lab, including this very night, he owed you the benefit of whatever you wanted. He searched out a quiet area, one where the only disruption could be the stream of moonlight in through a window. You preferred it over the wall of vivacious men and over-powdered women. He preferred it over the atrocity of his footwork.

“It’s not much of a date,” Miguel’s hand slid around yours. He encompassed your small palm with his large hand, the other gliding across the soft, exposed skin of your back. You swayed with him, side to side. He was an awful dancer, but there was something endearing about that. He saw it in your eyes, the glimmer of curiosity, gliding your dark heels against the inside of his foot. Damn, he still sucked.

“No,” you agreed, shifting to take the lead. He followed your steps. Right, back, left, up. Maybe he stepped on your long dress once or twice, too. Shock, he cursed again, stepping over your foot.

“You’re remarkably bad at this.” You settled your head on his chest, letting your box steps fade into little more than the shifting of your hips.

“I know. Let’s just-- sway?”

“Swaying is good.”

“O’Hara,” boomed Stone. But of course— peace couldn’t last forever. Like a bullet through the chest, a voice caused him to turn in startle. His tan cheeks flushed with warmth, feeling cut off from the cover of others. He was dressed in the most gaudy of clothes that almost seemed to match the crooked expression on his pale face. No matter how many times he tried to fix it, it always looked… wrong.

Stone’s hands came together, clapping multiple times to force the crowd of politicians, scientists, and bought-in participants to fade away. His voice caused Miguel to growl, a low rumbly noise that you soothed with your breasts pushing gingerly against his arm. He could do it. He could handle this pompous little shit-- “And who is this beauty? A new girlfriend, perhaps? Fiance? O’Hara could do with a wife. Settle him down, y’know.”

Miguel huffed out of his nostrils. “This is my lab partner,” he cleared his throat, leaning forward. “For… the project.”

“Her? A lab partner? Ha!”

Shock. He didn’t have to look at you to know you were insulted. Miguel pinched the bridge of his nose, rubbing out the tension as you smiled through the interaction, taking over for Miguel. “We have measurable results.”

“That’s what I like to hear, sweet thing. Now, Miguel, Aaron has found a test subject…”

“I’ll interview them.”

“No need! I--”

“Excuse me, Mr. Stone. I’ll let you two talk,” you slipped away, your heels clicking off into the busy crowd. Stone was talking. Miguel knew he should listen closely. His half-formed plan to see what the future held for his research was wafting into the air, wisps of it in his ear. Tomorrow-- test-- can you? Panic blinded his senses. He could find you nowhere in the room, and even if he did, would he be too late?

“Yeah, yeah, that’s fine, it’s… excuse me.”

The issue with falling for someone was the scythe of his fear. His position was inherently risky. No matter how many groups of people he cut through trying to find you, you weren’t there. No tiny little appetizers of shrimp on half a skewer. No booze, because your head would swim. Not near the bathrooms, either. He rushed down the steps when he found you, just before the large iron gates, staring up at the stars peppering the sky.

At your feet, Aaron. His drunken fingers trying and failing to guide the strap off of your ankle. You, of course, sat there staring dumbly down at his failed attempts to do something as simple as fix your damn heel.

“I’ll take it from here.” Miguel booted Aaron out of the way. Who, with his sloppy sloshed curses, tried to win a fight with him. He eventually won out. Aaron slunk away, somewhere up the steps. Miguel wasn’t counting. “You didn’t listen.”

“Hm?”

Miguel loosened both straps, sliding his open palm under your foot for one then the other. You gazed at him, sliding the black heels off your feet, tutting his tongue at the blistered back of your feet.

“I told you not to wander off.”

“I just wanted to see the stars. Besides, it was just Aaron.”

“It’s never just Aaron. It’s Aaron and Stone.” Miguel’s eyebrows pushed against one another, recording your failure to listen. You crossed one leg over the other, sliding your toes over his silk tie, kept beneath a vest. He knelt before you, searching your eyes for the right answer. “You don’t know… what you’re getting into. I’m trying to keep you safe.”

“I don’t need you to. I can take care of myself, Miguel. Please don’t--” you sighed. “Don’t be like them.”

He knew what you meant. Like Aaron, peeling off your shoes at the sign of discomfort because you were a pretty woman. Or Stone, who couldn’t comprehend your value as a scientist. Those who doubted you because of your color, gender, or a mixture of the two. His mouth twisted in frustration. He was in deep. Whatever you desired, he wanted to give. It came at a price.

“Are you mine,” the words came out stiff, “or theirs?”

“Miggy,” you turned the word over on your tongue, willing him to stand down. His dark eyes settled on yours, unmoving. “Why do I have to pick?”

“You can’t have both. You’ll have to choose. One day.”

Your mind worked. He knew from the way you pursed your lip out, then in, puncturing its pillowy surface with your teeth. You shifted your gaze to the water, the stream coursing down the unfeeling stone. Miguel's fingers ran across your inner thigh, causing you to gaze down at him. The steps of others on the other side of the fountain, fading into the depths of the night caused you to break his gaze. Miguel offered you his hand, fitting the shoes under his other arm as he walked toward the valet. You took his hand and interlaced your fingers.

“Do you trust me?”

“Of course,” you said, though the words felt thready and thin, nary a whisper. Something in the undercurrent of your voice concerned him. A thread that needed to be snipped, convinced of the vileness of the city-- of who you worked for.

He doesn’t make mistakes.

But he left the project code on his desk. It should have been there, yet, the corpse of a decrepit, awful creature withered on the lab floor proved otherwise. Someone had taken it because he was distracted. As a result, someone lost their life... even if it was Stone's doing.

Now, scouring through his papers, his hands tremored like a common drug addict. He supposed he was one, a druggie, tremoring like a shot hungry, Rapture crazed--

“Miggy?”

He snapped around. His gaze melded your figure into one beautiful blurb, even with the glasses on his broad nose. It was your voice, coded in something close to concern. Miguel ran his hands through his hair, long strands falling messily over his eyes and cheekbones. He flattened his hands out atop his head.

“What are you looking for?”

“The notes,” he weathered a breath. He doddered about the room, throwing a stack of paper onto the floor. They crumpled over the floor, mixed projects, notes on the specimen, but none were his. “Where are my notes?”

“You’re sick,” your voice broke gently, as if speaking them alone helped. A horrid crack of laughter slipped from his throat, drawing into a long lament as he repeated the words after you. Sick, you said, he was sick. If being sick was the least of his issues, he would have been a happy man. Your steps rang into his ear, heavier than before, painful and loud. He crumpled onto the couch in his office, his hands cupping them. Your soft hands coursed over his chest, unbuttoning his starched button-up and sliding it down his muscular upper arms. “This might hurt.”

No kidding, needles always hurt. But the instantaneous relief that flooded his system overrode the momentary pain. As your fuzzy figure came into focus, he recognized the drug that you set aside.

“You didn’t--”

“You were right, Miggy, about the-- Mr. Sims.” Miguel gazed at you, leafing through novels of notes with trembling hands. He cursed himself for subjecting you to seeing that. Not quite human, not quite... The twisted look on the poor man’s face. What months of research with one another had offered. He would fix it. He knew the research was on point. It was the application that was lacking.

“I have a copy of your notes,” you murmured as if someone could hear. They likely could. “¿Ay, puñeta, dónde está? Ah! Here, here it is. Your… profile.”

“You kept it,” he glanced down at the hastily scribbled note attached to the clip. ‘Miguel’s profile’ alongside a soft pink heart. He stopped your hands from thumbing through another leaflet. His eyes traced the dry ink of the heart. His thumb moved to stroke it, catching the sight of bubbling tears welling over in your eyes out of the corner of his eye. The tears slid down your full cheeks, triggering his discomfort to well up in his stomach. Miguel shifted closer, flicking fat droplets off your slight jaw.

“Hermosa,” Miguel shifted his head, cocking his eyebrow. “¿Que te pasa?”

“I should have listened to you Miggy,” you began, inhaling air forcefully through your nostrils. Breathe, you murmured. Miguel's soft hand cupped the back of your neck like a collar. You were happy to be collared by his hand, it felt safe.

His eyes narrowed, thumb caressing the loose strands of hair at your nape. “You should have. You know I'll take care of you."

You nodded.

"You have to be fully dedicated to me.”

“I am.”

“Show me.” You fluttered your eyes, the gears of your mind working to understand what he meant. His hand fell away to trace the bow of your black blouse. He tugged on the knot, slipping the bow loose and running his fingers over your exposed cleavage below. “Take off the blouse.”

Was it necessary? Some might have said no-- but sex, in its connective nature-- was the ultimate dedication. At the end of it all, that's what he craved: your eyes, your actions, all born with him in mind. With trembling fingers, you untucked your shirt from your black slacks. Miguel sat back, tracking the soft lace of your balconette bra teasing his eye. You loitered for a minute too long, enough for him to lift his thick eyebrow.

“Don’t stop now,” he said. Your knees knocked together, slipping the shirt over and off your torso before draping it on the arm of his couch. Your bra followed quickly after, slipping out of the twisted straps. You skimmed your hands over your breasts, holding them for comfort.

"No." Miguel flicked his fingers, motioning for your hands to move from your thick nipples. You pushed your breasts together, allowing him to marvel at them a second longer. “Que maravilla... You have no idea how long I’ve waited. Go on, take off the rest now.”

You suckled in breath, sliding the button of your pants loose. Then the zipper, its cloth scratching your thighs on its way to pool around your ankles. You stepped out of them, joining them too with your shirt. Miguel sat up, running his calloused fingers over the side of your hip and waist. His thumbs hooked in your panties, drawing them down over your pussy, a moist spot on your panties connecting a small string of wetness to your pussy. His palm slid between your thighs, pinned by your thighs pressed together, whether out of an innate need for more pressure or shyness to show him how wet you were. Hm. Miguel melded your ass, striking your skin with his large palm, it jiggled.

“Miggy,” you breathed, shy and intimidated. “I have to tell you something…”

“Lay down,” he told you.

“But Miggy, what if someone…” Your eyes darted away from his, chewing on his cheek as you slid back down beside him. You settled on the couch, your legs thrown over his thighs. The couch was stiff, hard against your neck. You stole a haughty glimpse at his face, focused entirely on coursing his palms over your calves and thighs, then back down to your slight toes. He ground your feet over his stiff cock, obscured by the fabric of his slacks. He felt big-- bigger than you could have imagined from the look on your face.

“¡Basta!” Miguel growled, “No one is going to come in. Let me see you.”

You flushed.

“You want me to…” you glanced down, your curls were soft to the touch.

“Touch yourself for me.”

With your heart strumming in your chest, you shifted your hand down, spreading your lips, soft and wet. You were so wonderfully shy to follow his orders, the pads of your fingers rubbing along your outer lips, massaging them warm and swollen. You buried your eyes into your other arm, dragging up and down, over and over. A delightful sigh greeted his ear, ensuring that though you were too embarrassed to look at him, you loved it. He allowed it for now-- because he was a gracious, forgiving man.

“Shock,” Miguel shuffled at the button and zipper of his pants, freeing himself from his slacks. He spat into his palm, stroking over his fleshy length, squishing his cock against your foot. Your toes curled over his cockhead, engrossed in Miguel’s rumbling pants, the soft pleasure that bloomed from his chest. Your eyes trained on his lips, the slight breath suckled between his teeth. Your fingers glazed over your stiff clit, pausing as though you needed his permission, just how he wanted it. Your sweet submission.

His eyebrow perked. “You can touch it.”

“Oh,” you glanced down, tracing the way Miguel fisted himself, swirling up to his cockhead, along fat veins and the bubble of salty fluid on his tip. His permission seemed to spur something else in you, flicking your swollen clit to the sound of his pleasured growling, your own pleasure growing in tandem with his.

“¡Ya!” he annunciated, watching as you failed to stop. All at once he stopped his ministrations. A sigh escaped his chest as he pushed himself up, smacking your hand away from your puffy cunt. His cock bobbed between your bodies. You wanted to touch it, but couldn’t.

"Wait," you cried out. His cock twitched as he lowered his hips down, drawing sweet lubricant on his cock, stroking your pussy. He leaned forward, capturing your mouth in a warm kiss. He dipped his hand down, his cockhead prodding and poking, dipping lower with the aid of his hand.

“MiggyI’mavirgin,” you said all at once, his cockhead nudged against your entrance. Miguel’s head about snapped as he looked up, eyes popped wide open in disbelief. Before he could quite form a coherent thought, your hands shot out to grip his suit vest, stopping him where he was.

“¿Qué dejiste? Say that again?”

“I haven’t… I haven't had sex,” you murmured. He hadn’t put it together. Your shyness, the awkward way you shuffled around, loosening your bra and hiding your perfect breasts from his eyes. The words were finally out in the open but didn't register.

"A..." Miguel fisted his cock, once, then twice, shifting back to kneel before you. Your eyes fell on his muscular thighs, the way his hand fisted his dick. “You’re a virgin?”

“I’m too old for this,” you mumbled, hiding your eyes with your palms. Miguel shifted to cast aside your hands from your eyes, his muscular body caging you underneath, looking for an explanation. “I just. Between school, work, I never had time.”

Not that he was complaining.

"No boyfriend?"

You shook your head. He couldn't believe his luck. Not only were you gorgeous, but you were untouched. His, completely and fully. He liked it better that way-- to be the first memory smeared in your head. So that when you looked back on this moment, right now, it would forever be marked by his face.

"It's mine," he blurted out all at once. "I want your first to be mine."

His hand dropped down to your cunt. The pad of his middle finger worked at your entrance as though he were exploring the truth of your statement, stretching you with the aid of his fingers. You were tight, it had to be true.

You nodded, face buried deep in your arm. It didn’t take but moments for him to draw his hand back, suckling the lubricant from his fingertips. You distantly registered his words, “Damn it, you... you don't know what you do to me.”

Before you could say a word more, Miguel positioned the head of his dick against your slippery virgin hole. You clenched, glancing down between your bodies again, as you had a dozen times, anxiously waiting. Miguel hushed you, the repetitive shushing of his lips soothing you into complacency, forcing your muscles to relax. “It might hurt. But the pain won’t last,” he assured you.

He rolled his hips forward. His sharp exhale shook with every centimeter that gave way. Your walls were forced apart, suffocating you on the shock of adjusting to having someone, no not someone, Miguel-- your Miguel, sinking into your tense body. He throbbed, twitching in your body. His hands fisted in the aged couch, catching the breath in his chest.

“Ay, Miggy,” your nails dug into his shirt, loose around his firm muscles. “Miggy, no puedo,”

“You can, you’re so good, eres tan buena,” Miguel swept your lips between his, taking the moment of your surprise to bury himself further, swallowed by your cunt that resisted his intrusion. Your lips fluttered in the kiss, keened out a cry. The pain of his dick, forcing its way through your passage is quelled by the knowledge that he’s here, with you, his girth forcing you apart, stretching you apart, seating himself flush against your womb. His voice was caramelized, sugared over, and so good. “Look at how well you’re taking me already.”

“Coño, that’s a tight pussy,” He slid his hips back, the warm sensation of his withdrawal pulling free before shoving back in, a cry shoving forth from your lips, filling his office and the connected lab with your cries. He might have heard someone draw the door open, his hips driving back in, centered on the magnificent groans that stuttered free from your chest with Miguel’s careful thrusts. You keened his name, a repetitious Miggy, Miggy, Miggy-- it was Aaron, probably. He recognized the way his feet drug on the floor.

He hoped he didn’t just hear it. He hoped he saw it too, the way his balls slapped against your ass, the mess of blood soaking the already unhygienic couch, the way his cock pulsed. You were blissed out, so full and well of him like no one else ever had-- because you were his, and his alone. It wasn’t just sex. It was more than that. From Aaron, whose shuffled steps fell out of his office, to any other little bitch in the office who had their own gain.

“Damn,” Miguel shifted back, hooking his hand around your thigh to drag you back onto his dick. He swirled his thumb against your stiff clit, whirling it around in one circle, then another, and by the third your knees knocked together, bearing down on his cock to hold him still. “I can’t--” you stuttered out, I can’t--”

“You’re going to,” he hissed. “You’re going to cum right here, right now, split open on my dick.”

With another circle, you croaked an ugly cry, a terrible, ugly cry that Miguel couldn’t find any more beautiful as your body buzzed around him, tightening and squeezing your already tight cunt around him. Blissful pleasure radiated there, riding his dick for the friction against your virgin walls, your thoughts fading into a realm of insistent pleasure, where thoughts were space mush.

Miguel withstood the pressure on his cock, clamping his hand down on your hip. His thrusts stuttered, filling your belly with whip after whip with his full hot cum. Your body twitched in the throes of his orgasm. He tracked his eyes down to your body, withdrawing with a bubbly pop of his dick from your abused hole, the intermingling of cum and virginal blood dribbling down your cheeks.

Your gaze tracked Miguel, pressing his lips toward yours one more time. You shifted on the couch, legs pathetically tremoring. Miguel chuckled and walked toward his electric kettle, papers crunching underneath his feet, “Don’t bother moving. Not that you could, anyway.”

He warmed a warm cloth with hot water, testing its temperature on his palm before sitting beside your crumpled legs, spreading your legs to clean his mess and sooth the abrasive way he took you. He spread your lips, ensuring you were clean before he would flip the cloth, dropping it on top of your vulva.

“You know you’re mine,” he asked, though it came out as a statement. With another cloth, Miguel cleaned his soft cock of the mess, exhaustion of the sex and what was to come returning to his gentle, deep voice.

“Sí,” you answered.

“And you’d do anything for me. Only me.”

The words were laced with something more than a suggestion, but an affirmation of your loyalty. Your love. You pushed yourself up, hanging off his arm after he tucked himself into his pants. “Para siempre.”

He leaned down, plucking the bundle with his sequenced DNA information. Your eyes coursed the information on the page, darting up to his tired eyes. You wanted to ask why or what he knew. Miguel knew it didn't matter. You were his now, from the top of your head to the bottom of your gorgeous toes. You trusted him fully. As you should. With the empty vial of Rapture sitting beside him, forgotten, he spared you a mincing smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes.

“Good. Let's fix our project.”

#miguel ohara oneshot #miguel o'hara oneshot #miguel o'hara x you #miguel x reader #miguel ohara x reader #spider 2099 imagine #across the spiderverse imagine #atsv imagines #atsv imagine #spider 2099 x reader #miguel o'hara/reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel ohara smut

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dreamofjoys · 11 months

Text

You became drunk in the heartslaybul's dorm due to the amount of alcohol that Ace and Deuce had sneaked in - a mini party between the 3 of you. And now, your drunken state has been crying and begging to see your boyfriend, Malleus. The duo could only brace themself with what's going to happen next as they bring you to diasomnia's dorm, praying that your boyfriend would not strike them down with lightning after seeing your current state.

— c/w: Reader is drunk, crack(??? im bad at stuff like this haha lmk if it's funny enough), injuries, underage drinking

— a/n: As i was writing this, i recalled that there are similar fics like this out there but this is just my own version. happy reading!

"I want Malleus!" You cried out, banging both of your fist on the table as the duo stares at you with panic on their face.

"No no, you don't need Malleus. You are a strong and independent person without that scary-"

"Malleus is not scary!" A plate flew past Ace's ear, nearly hitting him if not for his excellent dodgy skills. "Should we just bring them to Malleus-senpai? Maybe he will be able to handle them." Deuce suggested, to which Ace was about to rebut back if not for the sudden loud cry and wailing coming from you.

"Mal-Malleus!Wh-where are you..." You tried standing up from the chair, only for your legs to start wobbling before falling onto the ground, your nose and knees hitting first. "Be careful!" Ace and Deuce hurriedly step forward, standing on either side of you and linking their arms under yours to lift you up from the ground. "MALLEUSSS!!!!!" You wailed, not caring about your friends who are staring at you weirdly, and perhaps, a little anxious. You didn't know what was going on, or what invoked you to suddenly throw a tantrum to see your boyfriend. You had already met him early morning when he offered to send you to class. But somehow, the alcohol managed to make you feel cloud nine, and you wanted nothing more then to just go to your boyfriend and bask into his embrace.

The duo could only look at each other sigh, mentally preparing themself for what's coming next as they accompany - well, assist - you to diasomnia dorm.

The walk to diasomnia was agonizingly long. You would trip on your own feet here and there, occasionally stopping just to breakdown about how much you want to see Malleus. Deuce would comfort you, saying that they are bringing you to see Malleus now. Ace would groan, trying to wreck his brain to find if there's any excuses that he can say to save both their sorry ass. Nonetheless, they tried to prolong the walk to your boyfriend's territory so as to prepare themselves mentally.

When the 3 of you had finally reach the entrance to Diasomnia dorm, the double doors swung open before either of you could knock on it. Right in front of you stands your boyfriend in all his glory, his dorm uniform having just ironed into perfection, his shoes polished perfectly with a shine that leaves everyone staring in awe. His gloves were washed with the most expensive softener, just so that you would be able to hold his hands in the upmost comfort.

Malleus knew that you were here before you even reach the doors. He was delighted that his beloved has came to visit him first, and was preparing to greet you with his fanged smile, the one that you love so dearly. Until he saw your drunk figure slumping on Deuce.

Upon finally seeing your boyfriend, you immediately pushed away the two that was supporting your stance, launching yourself forward to Malleus. If it wasn't for Malleus quick reflexes, you would have suffered from another fall again. "Malleus!" You beamed in delight, immediately wrapping your arms around Malleus's neck while he adjust you in his hold, carrying you in bridal style.

The smell of alcohol was quick to invade his sense, and it didn't take long for the prince to figure out what had happened. The duo was known for being trouble makers, they must have dragged you into one of their mischievous plans. "Are you okay?" Malleus asked, noticing that your happy facade was gone, replaced with a sad expression. You looked up to meet your lover's gaze, and his heart aches at the sight of your red teary eyes, cheeks and nose flushed as equally red as a tomato. Your lips starts wobbling as you break down for the nth time of the day.

"My knees....it hurts....Uwahhhh!! Malleus, i-it hurts!" Oh, if only you know how much your cries are hurting Malleus. He turns his attention to your knees, finally realising the ugly blue black bruise that was littered on your kneecaps with a hint of blood. Suddenly, a flash of lightning strikes onto the ground, right behind both Ace and Deuce. Both of them sweat profusely as they watch Malleus wiping off the stray tears on your cheeks, whispering sweet nothings into your ear to calm you down.

When you finally fell asleep due to exhaustion, the duo was truly trying to prepare for the worst. They finally noticed how tall Malleus was, his figure looming over them, shadow long and big enough to engulf both of them in darkness. Malleus was strong enough to just carry you with one arm without any struggles. The hand that was previously wiping away your tears has now shift to the side of your head, guiding it to rest on his shoulder. His hand were large enough to almost cover your whole face, and he takes advantage of this fact to protect your head.

The duo gulps, finally getting to witness firsthand how protective Malleus is over you, and just how scary he is. "There will be no second time." Malleus's words cuts through the atmosphere like a knife. His tone was cold and deadly, with a hint of bloodlust. If anything, it doesn't help how Malleus's green slitted eyes constricts in the dark, that terrifying glare will hunt the poor heartslaybul students forever as they start to apologise profusely, before running off to god knows where.

Malleus scoff, finally glad that he was alone with you again. Teleporting the both of you to his room, Malleus climbs onto the bed with you, laying your body on his bed. Your head has been shifted to rest on his muscular thighs while he sits up to lean his back on the bedframe. With a snap of his fingers, magic blooms around you, and he had you changed to a comfortable night gown. The bruises on your knees were long gone as if they were never there in the first place.

He stares at your sleeping figure, a smile suddenly creeping up onto his face when he realised how cute you are when you sleep. You were quite adorable when you were drunk too, clinging onto him as if your life depended on him. He would have entertained you even more if not for your injuries. Malleus chuckles to himself, his hand wandering to your face, pinching at your soft cheeks before travelling back to your head, letting his finger comb through your soft locks.

He already had a concrete plan on how to deal with the duo. But for now, he just wants to spend some time with you, and take care of your needs.

#twisted wonderland #malleus draconia #dreamofjoystwst #imagines #y/n #diasomnia #twst malleus #twst malleus draconia #malleus hcs #malleus x reader #malleus x you #malleus x y/n #malleus x yuu #twst x reader #twst wonderland #alcohol

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auspicioustidings · 6 months

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/auspicioustidings/734619885087375360/i-cannot-write-for-shit-right-now-so-any-little

Hmmmm I’m seeing so many x single mom readers and not sure if this is something you’re even interested in BUT

Simon meeting his pretty new neighbor while she’s moving I and realizes she is either a.) heavily pregnant or b.) has a very young baby so Simon goes “hmmmm mine now :)” and helps her out a little? (Alternatively, if you don’t wanna do Simon for this, then maybe Price?)

(Also if you haven’t read @peachesofteal’s Light On fic, Simon x single mom reader, I implore if you to do so!!! It’s so good)

Peaches Light On fics, and I am being so deadass serious, give me such a flood of serotonin any time I see a new one. Everyone get your butt over there because they are the standard for single mother content as far as I am concerned!

That being said, I've put a bit of a twist on this so it's not really what you requested at all, sorry :') I could not do a similar idea to Peaches because there is nothing I can do to improve perfection!

Tactical Action

Words: 1.1k

CWs: mentions of death

“It's not a shame Price, it's fucking ridiculous.”

Simon Riley was furious looking at the paperwork. It wasn't often that TF141 kept tabs on a promising rookie so when they did he expected nothing but excellence. What he did not expect was a large ‘Early Service Leaver’ stamp over an otherwise exemplary record.

“Their brother died in that warship collision, can't blame them for wanting out.”

“My brother was murdered, I kept fucking going.”

He had met you once when Johnny had dragged him. His Sergeant was both excited and annoyed that someone had gotten the new record for the 3rd selection phase. It made sense to get some feel for you then, if you were as good at escape, evasion and tactical questioning as the test scores suggested then the 141 needed to have you on their radar because the PMCs certainly would.

You were a determined thing, shoulders back and addressing them with just the right amount of respect. Not arrogant, but not a pushover. Soap had been talking about how much he wanted to get his hands on you the whole drive back to base because he was a horny idiot and you were a challenge he found intriguing. Simon had just rolled his eyes and added your record to the small pile in Price's office.

He knew a little of your background. Both parents gone, one sibling in the navy. Well one sibling now KIA. He could have understood taking leave, but to quit entirely? It made him angry, he thought it was a waste of potential. Price could see how it affected him and he sighed.

“Go talk to them then. But do not get yourself reported for harassment and intimidation Simon, if they don't want back in then we make our peace with that.”

That was all the permission he needed. He probably should have taken Soap really, someone who could be comforting and coax you back. But fuck it, you were supposed to be good under pressure so he was going to give you some hard damn advice on not bloody giving up.

–

Exhausted didn't even begin to describe how you felt. This was the hardest thing you had ever done, but you were not going to just give up. You couldn't, not with this tiny thing relying on you.

She had never even got to meet her parents. Your brother died just before the due date in that accident and then his girlfriend had died from complications in childbirth. You had promised her you would look after their baby if anything happened, made an oath that you'd not let her parents anywhere near such an innocent little thing.

So you were on your own with nothing but grief and exhaustion and an ever dwindling death in service payment. They would pay part of your brother's pension out each month at least for the baby, but you were terrified that it wouldn't be enough to give her a life she deserved. She certainly deserved her parents and not her fathers ill equipped sibling, but you could only do your best even with the knowledge it would never be enough.

You flinched when there was a hard knock at the door of your flat, freezing but taking a breath when the baby remained sleeping in your arms. You needed to move at one point you knew, a flat in a bit of a rough area was fine for a soldier (ex-soldier you reminded yourself) but not so much for a baby.

The security you had upgraded as best you could at the moment and you checked the door camera to see Lieutenant Riley. Ghost. You had met him briefly once, but what was a legend like him doing here? Shit. You knew you looked a wreck but it wasn't like you could ignore him so you opened the door, bouncing baby girl gently to keep her sleeping.

Simon's planned tirade died the moment he saw the situation. You had a baby. Oh that changed his tirade significantly. Your marital status had listed single, so he could only assume you had gotten yourself knocked up by some casual hookup. That was unacceptable in a soldier, so bloody stupid.

“Shit” you cursed when she woke up, heading back inside and giving him a nod of invite.

You bounced her and tried to coo at her to go back to sleep. To please God go back to sleep. You never knew what she wanted, it felt like whatever you did was always wrong. And of course then she started wailing and the Lieutenant was in your flat closing the door behind him witnessing your absolute failure to take care of a baby.

“Oh for Christ sake, give her here.”

Simon took the baby and hoisted the little thing up onto his shoulder, rubbing hard at her back.

“When was the last time you fed her?”

“I- well, just before you got here. 10 minutes ago maybe? Just got her to sleep.”

“Did you burp her?”

“Oh. I…” you replied, straining yourself in an attempt not to cry. “No. I forgot.”

While his eyes were sharp on you his hands and voice were gentle and soothing for the baby. He was good at this. Did he have kids? Fuck was everyone just innately good at caring for babies but you?

“Didn't stop to think if you could take care of her before having her?”

“She's not mine. Well I suppose she is. I'm her only living relative, or only decent one at least. I, um… that warship accident from a few months back. My brother died during it and her mum passed during the birth. I'm her legal guardian now. I'm what she has sir, it was the best tactical action given the circumstance” you said, straightening up despite your exhaustion and prolonged terror at being responsible for such an innocent little thing.

Simon cocked his head to the side as the baby on his shoulder burped and gurgled, now trying to get back to sleep. You were still a soldier he saw then, you were fighting back your emotions to give him a report on the situation. He reevaluated after the sitrep and took a moment to find the best course of action.

“Marry me then.”

“Sir?”

“We can get it done tomorrow. Might take a bit of time to get a decent house but we'll stay in my flat until then, better area. Still going to be out on assignment a lot but any death benefit would go to you and the widows pension would set you up for life. I'm what you have rookie, it's the best tactical action.”

“Yes sir.”

#mhairiwrites #cod #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #well at least the implication is a slow burn in which they do fall in love #they just do it all very out of order #baby > marriage > moving in > sleeping together > dating #Soap is gonna be pissed

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il-predestinato · 5 months

Note

hello beautiful elle

since it is going to be a long 3 months without our boys could you please recommend some fics that you liked? cause i really like your writings and how realistic they are and i wanted to get some of you suggestions for the break!

love you loads

Thank you, lovely anon, for your very kind message! 🥺 I must admit I have fallen behind in reading fics. I am sure I am forgetting some excellent Lestappen fics/writers, but these are some of my all-time favourites!

Lestappen Fic Recs:

And in the end I will seek you out amongst the stars by mandzilkos (@geeeooorrrge) - rating: G, 22k words

Soulmate AU where you see in black and white until you meet your soulmate, and the world goes back to black and white after your soulmate dies. This is ALWAYS the first Lestappen fic that comes to mind whenever anyone asks for a recommendation, and it is probably my all-time favourite. The fic that inspired me to write Lestappen, if I'm honest.

getting half of you just ain't enough by shybear_styles - rating: E, 20k words

The friends with benefits story that spans the 2019 season. The only thing better than amazing smut is amazing smut with feels. For sure a top 5 fic in the Lestappen fandom for me. Also, this author is simply amazing in general and you should read all of her fics! I haven't given up hope that she will return one day and write more Lestappen. 🤧

you feel the mornin' feel by shybear_styles - rating: M, 3.3k words

Remember that time Sebastian Vettel asked Charles, "Is he [Max] pretty?" And we never got an answer because Charles descended into gay panic? Well, worry not! We get an answer in this fic.

Monaco Malaise by ProngsfootxJily (@cupidskissx) - rating: E, 8k words

Rivals with benefits, takes place after the 2021 Monaco Grand Prix. Yes, this one is delicious smut but also a character study. Both of them are written so well, and it leaves you begging for more. Don't forget to check out the equally amazing sequel! (Don't worry, I have been relentlessly harassing her to write the sequel's sequel.)

algorithm by Anney (@badboy-george) - rating: M, 17k words

In a world where F1 uses simulation-based compatibility tests, five times Max doesn't find the right partner and the one time he does. Black Mirror ("San Junipero" and "Hang the DJ") vibes in the best way. Another one of my absolute favourite fics. If you've read any Lestappen fics, you've probably read "Every Other Sunday." This one is simply a masterpiece by the immensely talented Anney; definitely check out her other fics!

panem et circenses by Anney - rating: E, 13.2k words

Wow - simply devastating, haunting, an ode to these two as drivers, set in a dystopian future AU. The world building is absolutely incredible, but at its heart is such a beautiful story of love and hope. This one doesn't get enough recognition. (TW: implied non-con, not between Lestappen.)

Unlearn by wantinghopingwriting (Tazza1993) (@lightsoutfullhearts) - NR, 45k words

This is another all-time favourite, a must-read. Fake/pretend relationship to lovers multi-chapter story that is ever so satisfying; both of them are so well characterized. Set in a parallel-ish 2022 season. I really cannot recommend this one enough.

the edge of what can be loved by Ledger_m (@the-last-jedis) - rating: T, 13k words

The third wheel fic from the perspective of Max and Charles' various "Steves." It's funny, heartwarming, and everyone on the grid is nosy as fuck.

Charles Leclerc vs Red Bull caps by Ledger_m - rating: T, 6.4k words

Charles is the hero we all need, as he goes on a mission to get rid of all of Max's stupid Red Bull caps. This is REQUIRED reading! Kami is a genius. Go read all of her fics.

If You Don't Play, You'll Never Win by antimonyandthyme (@antimonyandthyme) - rating: T, 4.1k

Post 2021 Monaco Grand Prix. Max wants to take their relationship further; Charles... doesn't. Oh my God, where do I begin to describe how much I love this fic. The language is beautiful, both of them are so well-written, and I feel punched in the gut over and over again in the best way. The ending (well, the whole thing) is so damn satisfying.

all's well that ends well (to end up with you) by stylestappen (@stylestappen) - rating: G, 3k words

Max has a meltdown in the cereal aisle (yes, the cereal aisle) at 3 am when he realizes he is in love with Charles despite the latter's questionable taste in cereal. Dani has an absolutely wicked sense of humour! (Although I don't understand what she has against cocoa puffs 😭.) She also wrote a banger of a Lestappen soon-to-be teammates fic, so make sure to check out her profile.

Max Verstappen: Spotify Extraordinaire by frnndtorres - rating: G, 26k words

Max makes Spotify playlists for the grid. Fluffy, funny, care-free, liberal use of nicknames, with a healthy dose of feels between Max and Charles. A really fun read.

i love the way your green eyes mix with that malibu indigo by altissimozucca (@altisssimozucca) - rating: G, 11k words

Max and Charles spend summer of 2020 together in Malibu and try not to fall in love. Spoiler alert: they fall in love. I feel the urge to explain something: When I first started reading Lestappen, there were less than 250 fics in their entire tag (yeah I know, we are currently close to 3000 fics, which is insane). From 2019-2021, we truly lived off crumbs. So trust me when I say that we owe so much to altissimozucca, who wrote something like 40% of the fics in the Lestappen tag and nearly single-handedly kept us fed in those days. It's so hard to pick one of her fics to recommend, so make sure you check out her profile for more!

#803442 by altissimozucca - rating: M, 1k words

Max and Charles celebrate the end of the 2019 season in a hotel room. So soft, so fluffy, so satisfying.

Bruises by eefiplier - rating: E, 5.1k words

I think of this one as THE Lestappen smut fic. Oh my God, it's 5k words of amazing established relationship smut with all the feels. A classic. I can read this one over and over again.

outside the box by playclock (@endowataru) - rating: M, 6.1k words

Max falls in love with Charles' driving... oh and Charles himself too. They are ultra competitive idiots who are madly in love. There aren't enough established relationship fics out there, but this one is simply amazing. And don't forget to check out this author's profile for additional Lestappen fics. I promise every single one is a banger!

i made it link by link by purpleglasseswrites (@f-ferrari-forever) - rating: M, 4.2k words

Charles and Max try to be kinky, but who are they kidding - they are far too vanilla for that stuff. 🤣 This one is so sweet, and don't forget to read the sequel!

One man's trash, another man's treasure by AzziNow (@track-terror-apologist) - rating: T, 4.2k words

Charles turns into a raccoon and terrorizes everyone except Max. (Well, he terrorizes Max too... slightly.)

Call it madness, call it love… by AzziNow - rating: M, 3.5k words

Ferrari auctions off Charles for charity. No angst, just fluff. Alpha!Max/Alpha!Charles. So I confess that I never read A/B/O fics. There's nothing wrong with it - just not my cup of tea. But I really enjoyed this one. Al has such a chaotic sense of humour.

it all reminds me of you by grandprix (@grandprix-ao3) - rating: E, 3k words

Secret relationship Lestappen with flashbacks. Oh the yearning, the desire, the smut - incredibly satisfying. I must put a plug-in for this author's other Lestappen fics as well. Never misses - make sure to check them out!

burning you into my mind by thightattoos - rating: E, 4.1k words

Porn with feels and possessiveness. You cannot ask for anything more. I must have read this one a dozen times.

an evil plan or two by witchee_writer - rating: T, 5.2k words

Max and Charles are roped into a plan to get Brocedes back together; they come to a few realizations along the way. The only thing better than a Lestappen fic? A Lestappen AND Brocedes fic!

Fine Line by empireoffclouds - rating: NR, 7k words

One of the more light-hearted enemies to friends to lovers fics. I absolutely adore their dynamic here - it's snarky, warm, but also so them. The incomplete sequel is also a super fun read.

Into Darkness Of Thought by flamingosarepink - rating: T, 1k words

After the 2019 Japanese Grand Prix, Charles thinks Max isn't coming back to their shared space.

steal softly under castle walls by untouchableocean - rating: G, 521 words

Max gets home late from Milton Keynes and Charles has already fallen asleep. Short, tooth-rooting fluff of the best kind.

Zoomies by greeny1710 (@maxlambiase) - rating: E, 2.2k words

This one is just hilarious. A (mostly) naked Max walks into Charles' team Zoom call during the COVID lockdown.

...and many, many more that I'm sure I have forgotten! 🙈 You can also check out my AO3 bookmarks (the first few pages are pretty much all Lestappen fics).

Please remember to leave kudos and comments for these amazing writers. The talent in this fandom is absolutely incredible. They all deserve so much recognition. Happy reading!

#max verstappen #charles leclerc #lestappen #lestappen fic #fic recs #elle.ask #anon #a list of incredibly talented people #for reference #fave

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kelcemenow · 1 year

Text

Anything.

Pairing Travis Kelce x Reader

Words 2539

Warnings Strong language, some fluff and lots and lots of smut. I went a bit heavy on the foreplay but I just can't help myself!

Another anon request that I just had to do! "Hi there. I loved your most recent fic and was wondering if you would be willing to write a smut where the reader (female) promised travis that if he won the superbowl that he could do anything he wanted to her?"

"Anything?" Travis' eyes widened and his mouth gaped open slightly.

"Anything." You repeated, but without the questioning tone. "You win that Superbowl baby, and you can do anything to me."

Travis froze for a second before laughing and rubbing the back of his neck, "Oh baby, you don't know what you've done."

You leaned forward so you were only inches away from his face, "And when I say anything, I mean anything."

His eyes darkened and he leaned in to kiss you but when his lips grazed yours, you pulled back and continued eating your dinner. Travis' eyebrows lowered in confusion.

You pointed your fork to his plate, "Eat your dinner big guy, you've got an important game next week."

Travis didn't move for a second or so, keeping his gaze on you, hoping for a change of heart. You continued eating your chicken, not making eye contact with him. After a moment, Travis breathed out a laugh and started shovelling his food quickly into his mouth.

"Right, I've finished, can I have a kiss now?" He pushed his lips out.

You smiled at his begging expression, placing your hand under his chin and bringing his face to yours for a gentle kiss. Travis hummed in contentment before you leaned back and returned to your plate, flipping the page of your magazine.

"You're going to be sorry. You'd better have a strong coffee on the morning, baby. Imma have you up all night." His eyes lowered down your body.

You continued to read your magazine, "You're that confident that you're going to win?"

"Baby! Do you know who I am? I am the-"

"Yes, yes, the fastest tight end to reach 10,000 receiving yards." You said quickly, "Now, could you add another few yards and get the laundry out of the dryer, please?"

Travis shook his head and laughed, "You keep me humble, babe."

You smiled down at the article you were reading. You liked to keep Travis on his toes and he enjoyed your playfulness. You had been dating for around a year, so it was still relatively the early stage of your relationship. You met soon after the previous season, as a friend of Isabelle Butker, the wife of Travis' Chiefs teammate Harrison. She had invited you to a barbeque at her house and you spotted Travis.

"Isabelle, who's that?"

He was chatting to some other players excitedly.

"Oh, that's Travis." Isabelle nodded as she opened a beer from the cooler, "He's great, I think you two would get along, actually."

You narrowed your eyes, "If you're saying what I think you're saying, no way."

"What?" Her head snapped up quickly, "What do you mean? I'm an excellent matchmaker!"

"That guy you set me up with a couple of months ago? He ordered a salad for me and then started lecturing me about why women should stay and home and take care of the children instead of go to work!"

"Okay, okay...fair enough. But seriously, just go and talk to him."

You picked up your glass of wine and looked over towards him. He was talking enthusiastically with a couple of guys you recognised. He seemed to be focused on the conversation but his eyes suddenly found yours and you felt your breath hitch as he smiled before continuing with his discussion.

You tilted your head to the side, "Hmm, I think I might."

That was almost a year ago. And now you were in your home in Kansas City, getting ready to leave for a week in Arizona for the lead up to the Superbowl. Travis didn't seem nervous, but you knew there was still time. This was the biggest game of the season He had won in 2020, but lost the year after. You really wanted him to win his second ring, to experience the celebration with him. You knew it would be a difficult game for him as he was playing against his brother, Jason, meaning the entire Kelce family were there and the result, whatever it was, would be bittersweet for whoever was on the losing team.

After you had finished dinner, both you and Travis checked over your bags that you had packed for the week in Arizona, but your thoughts were consumed with what plans Travis had for his winning night.

______________________________________________________________

Your heart was in your mouth as the red and gold confetti filled the sky. The stadium erupted into noise and the entire viewing suite jumped to their feet. Patrick Mahomes' wife Brittany threw her arms around you and Isabella grabbed onto both of your hands as she jumped repeatedly in the air.

"Oh my God, oh my God!" You screamed as you could feel tears forming between your eyelids.

Isabella quickly pulled you both out of the suite, "Come on, we need to get down there."

The three of you, followed by other players families, whizzed through the corridors to get onto the field as quickly as possible. The atmosphere was electric and your head was spinning with the vast amount of people piling onto the field. Your eyes were darting around to locate Travis but as you were searching, you saw the two brothers sharing an emotional hug.

"Congratulations, go celebrate."

Travis looked at his big brother, "I love you, man."

Jason winked and nodded his head towards you and Travis turned around quickly. As soon as he spotted you, his eyes lit up with tears and he came running to you, picking you up and spinning you around. Camera flashes blinded your eyes so you closed them and pressed a firm kiss onto Travis' lips.

As he lowered you back down onto the grass, you stared up at him, "I am so proud of you, baby." You placed your hands onto the sides of his face as he stared lovingly down at you, "So proud. You did it, you won. I love you so much."

Travis leaned down to meet your lips with his again, "I love you too, baby."

You felt his hand lower to grab your ass firmly, squeezing the supple flesh. Your own hand grasped at his toned biceps and you watched as his chest rose and fall hastily.

"You're not too tired are you, big guy?" You hands ran along his arms as you looked up at him.

He leaned down so his mouth was close to you ear, "Not a chance, I'm getting out of here as fast as I can."

______________________________________________________________

"You...are amazing. I...love...you so much." You said in-between breaths as Travis was latching onto your neck, leaving wet lazy kisses across your skin.

His hands were roaming your clothed body, grasping at the fabric and pulling it so he could have access.

You pulled away from him and walked slowly to the hotel bedroom, his hungry eyes following every step you made. As you reached the bed, you spun on the spot and sat on the edge, looking up at your 6 foot 5 inch man.

"So, you remember our deal?" You asked, a husky rasp to your voice.

Travis nodded and silently made his way to his suitcase, his broad back obstructing your view as to what he had pulled out of it. You waited patiently until he turned to face you, a long black piece of material in his hand.

"I'm going to make you feel so good, baby." His head shook slightly as he spoke, his words laced with lust.

You tilted your head as he came closer to you, "But this is your treat?"

"Watching you squirm as I make you cum is a treat for me."

Your thighs tightened and your pussy throbbed at his words.

He climbed onto the bed behind you and pulled your hair to one side, placing soft kisses on your neck and shoulders, your skin tingling at his touch. Your eyelids fluttered closed and you gasped gently. You leaned back slightly and rested on his chest whilst Travis placed one hand up your jersey, searching for your breasts. His fingers grazed your right nipple and you felt a jolt of pleasure through your body.

Just as you were melting into his touch, he quickly moved away from the bed and walked around to face you. You looked up at him, your pink swollen lips parted and his eyes darkened further. You smiled when he placed the black fabric over your eyes and tied it into a knot at the back of your head.

Suddenly, your world was black and all you had to rely on was your other senses. You felt Travis' hands run up your thighs and as you stood up, he gently pulled down your tight, ripped jeans and you carefully stepped out of them. All of the sudden, you felt Travis' lips on yours, gently and almost ghosting over your mouth. You leaned forward for him but he wasn't there. You could hear movement on the bed behind you but you stayed where you were, wanting to be under Travis' full control.

You felt his breath on your neck behind you and he pulled the jersey you were wearing over your head so you were left in your lace bra and thong. Travis let out a small groan at the sight of your ass and you heard him shift again on the bed behind you. He placed a gentle grip on your arm and guided you down onto the bed so you were laid on your back. After a couple of seconds, his hands slowly removed your thong as his lips kissed your stomach and hips, getting closer to your pussy with every kiss.

You let out a sigh, your chest quivering and struggling to control your breathing. Travis blew gently on your exposed clit, and the cool air made you throw your head back in preparation. He had always been good with foreplay, he knew exactly what to do to drive you crazy but you knew this night was going to be different.

You parted your legs slightly and Travis' wet tongue drew a stripe up your folds, flicking your clit at the end. Your legs tensed tightly and then opened further so you could allow him better access. Travis got to work immediately, his tongue expertly exploring your pussy. His movements were gentle but firm, and you could occasionally hear him humming, the vibrations running through your body. A tightness built up in your lower stomach, causing you to arch your back off of the bed and a low guttural sound to leave your lips. Travis ran his hand up your stomach, reaching for your chest. His fingers found your left breast, nipping at the skin, pinching your nipple and tugging at it. You hissed at the slight pain, enjoying the sharp sensation that flooded your body.

He removed his tongue and replaced it with his fingers, gently pushing them inside of you. You felt his frame cover yours, his mouth kissing your neck and chest. Your breathing became uneven and you curled your toes, holding onto the orgasm that was building up inside of you. Travis must have noticed as he lifted his lips to your ear.

"Go on baby, that's it. Let that perfect pussy cum for me."

His low growl in your ear made you completely release, a wetness covering his fingers with force. You heard Travis gasp, and then felt him speed up, pumping his fingers in and out with an impressive pace. You squealed as you released some more, your cum spurting with force.

Travis quickly flipped you over so you were lying on your front. He moved behind you and lifted your hips upwards, steadying yourself on your knees. You pressed your cheek into the bed, letting your torso relax. You arched your back as he returned his tongue to your vagina, lapping up the juices that were covering your folds. Your muscles quivered and your body writhed with pleasure.

"Mmm, you taste so sweet." He breathed into your pussy.

You bit down on the pillow next to your face to stop yourself from screaming and Travis responded by grabbing at your thighs, digging his fingers in and flicking your clit with his tongue. Your back arched even further and your throat croacked.

"Travis...baby...I need your dick." You panted, "Please...uhh...p-lease."

His hands moved to your ass, slapping his hand across the skin. You moaned at the sting but continued to beg for him.

"Fuck me, Travis...do what you want to me...fuck me, baby."

Travis chuckled and lifted himself up onto his knees, his thick erection perfectly positioned at your entrance. You bucked backwards slightly, pushing his tip against your wet lips. You could feel your pussy pulsating and with one easy motion, he slid himself inside of you, causing you to gasp at his size. Your walls stretched around him and you whined as you adjusted to him.

He started slow and gentle, letting you feel every inch of his cock. He rested his hands on your back before he tangled them in your hair, grasping at it to pull you upwards and onto your hands. You clutched at the bed sheets, tightening your fists as you took his length. He grunted with each thrust, his sounds fuelling your second orgasm.

Quickly, he pulled his member out and flipped you back onto your back before removing your blindfold. You blinked and your eyes adapted to the light. He smiled when you locked eyes with him, finally gazing upon his handsome and strong features. His mouth parted and he bit down on his bottom lip as his dick plunged into you, your cum spilling out. Your eyes widened as he repeatedly thrusted with a powerful force. He pressed his forehead to yours, steadying himself as he increased his speed. Contrary to earlier, you screamed this time with no care for how loud you were, making wild sounds to signify your intense pleasure. Travis breathed through gritted teeth, the muscles in his arms bulging and flexing with each movement.

You vision started to get blurry as you sensed your next orgasm. You licked your dry lips and grunted Travis' name before you felt a release of ecstasy wash over you. Every muscle in your body seemed to tense then relax, your breathing even more rushed and manic than before. You turned your head slightly but Travis placed a large hand on your chin and pulled your gaze back to him, his urgent expression prolonging your climax.

After some laboured thrusts, Travis tightened his grip on you and his body contorted as he released his cum into you. Your walls clenched as you felt him pulsate, his ejaculation filling you up. He collapsed slightly, but was careful not to put his whole weight on top of you. Instead, he held himself up by his elbow, stroking the side of your face with his other hand.

His face was red and speckled with beads of sweat. His eyes bore into you as he smiled, "You are perfect, baby."

"Nobody is perfect, Travis."

He narrowed his eyes, "You are. I love you so much." He pushed some rogue hairs away from your face with his thumb and kissed your forehead, "I would do anything for you."

"Anything?"

______________________________________________________________

I am really enjoying getting requests these days! You all have such wonderfully creative ideas! I also wanted to check whether people would want me to start a standard taglist? I have one for my Touchdown series, but wondered if I should have a regular one for all of my writing?

#travis kelce x reader #travis kelce imagine #kelce x reader #nfl imagine #original story #travis kelce fic #travis kelce smut #travis kelce #nfl smut #kelce smut #kelcemenow requests

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