𐙚CEOBoss!Hayden Christensen X secretaryfem!reader ๋ ࣭ ⭑๋ ࣭ ⭑
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Warnings: just fluff. Mention of alcohool.
Summary: After a difficult breakup and now a new attempt to start your life over without the desire for a new relationship, you decide to focus on your new job as a secretary in a large company. But will your boss, the CEO, leave you alone when he tries to be the only and last guy in your life?
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It has been 30 minutes since I´ve been trying to do my work.
I´m really trying.
But guess what I discovered? I can do my work properly when I catch my hot grumpy boss looking at me with that beautiful hazel eyes.
Am I with something in my face? Did I lost any part of my body? Please, don´t tell me my make up is too much and I´m looking like Ronald McDonald, the clown.
“Are you okay, sir?” I asked.
“You know what? I’ve been thinking…” He got up from his chair and started to walk towards me. “We should go out sometime.” He leaned in front of me and approached to my face. Actually, too close for my liking.
“Oh” I was definetly not expecting it. I thought he would fire me or something. Or kill me because his gaze felt like it. “Of course, I could invite some of my colleagues here and we could all go togeth-”
He interrupted me. “I was thinking of just the two of us going out… Just to talk, get to know each other, not only work.”
And there he was again. Looking at me with those eyes with a glow of expectation, as if he were silently begging me to go.
“We could go for a nice restaurant. Just me and you.”
“Like…a date?”
“ It can be whatever you want. What you decide will be enough for me.”
“ I don't know if that's appropriate…” I say it with a hint of doubt. Going out with Hayden would be a great distraction after breaking up with my ex, but from his tone, it seems that he wants something more. But I don't know if I'm ready to have something more.
“Please, Y/N.”
You know what? He said that anything I chose was good, so I think going out as friends or as co-workers who are trying to have fun will be no problem. Even because it's not like I'm going to kiss him or something like that. That’s it, just fun and nice food.
“Fine. We can go after I sign these papers. But we’re hanging out as friends, ok? Nothing more.”
“Got it!” He opened the biggest smile I've ever seen in my life and for a moment I thought his face was going to tear. But he quickly recovered and returned with his usual serious expression. “Tell me when you're done.”
After work, Hayden took me to his car and we went to a expensive Italian restaurant and I started to think which of my organs would I have to sell to pay the bill. We were taken to our table by the waiter and Hayden pulled the chair for me to sit down.
We ordered our food and we started to talk about our lifes and interests. Hayden told me that he has 3 cats and love taking care of his plants. That was new because I would never think that a serious and severe man like him would have a soft side. From time to time, while I was talking or laughing, I noticed that he looked at me with something I couldn't identify what it was.
But after a glass of wine, I realized that he was cheerful and more excited than before and then i realized. He gets drunk easily.
Hayden was so drunk that he even wanted to start climbing on the table and singing.
I told him we should end for the night and go home. Thank goodness, he listened to me and then took out his card to pay our bill. I insisted that we should split it, but he said if I dared to touch my wallet he would suffocate me with so many hugs and kisses.
My jaw dropped and how can this man say that so calmly? Well, that definitely didn't make my heart race, probably was the drink, right?
I tried to carry him for his car and after we got in, I asked what his address was, but he started to talk about how his neighbor's garden dwarf scared him so much that he didn't want to go home alone. And then he fell asleep.
Great, a drunk sleepy boss was all I needed for my night.
“You're going to sleep here on this air mattress, okay? And no singing Sabrina Carpenter as you did all the way here after waking up.”
“Fineeeee!” He said humming and with a silly smile.
“Okay, good night. See you tomorrow, sir.” When I turned to go to my room, he said something that made me stop.
“Don’t call me sir. It makes me feel old and it seems that you're only being nice to me because I'm your boss. But I want to be more than your boss or friend. In fact, I just pretended that it would be okay to go out as your co-worker. I want to be yours. I want to be the guy you're nice with because you like him and because he makes your heart skip a beat.”
Wow. I don’t even know what to say. And it seems that he reads my mind because he continued talking.
“You don’t need to answer but a good night kiss would be great.” He chuckles.
“I'll give you a quick kiss, but only because tomorrow you won't remember anything.” I leaned over to kiss him on the lips and he reciprocated. Hayden brought our faces even closer and I felt a little taste of wine in his mouth. He sighed and tried to pull my waist close to him, but I walked away before things ended in something more. What I least want now is to be with someone and even less with my boss...I think.
“Good night, Hayden.”
“Good night! Sweet dreams for you since you are my sweetheart.” He laughs. So do I. It seems that I like this funny and cute drunk version of him.
I rolled my eyes and back to bed, I realized that I had a silly smile on my face.
And I think I kind of like that.
But did Y/N know that when he woke up, Hayden remembered everything that happened the other night very well and swore in his mind that he wouldn't give up on the girl he likes since the first day he saw her?
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Hiii, loves!! How are you? This is my first fanfic and I hope it's not weird and badly written, because English is not my native language. If you liked it, let me know pleaseeee. And if you want to give a constructive criticism, you can give it because I will try to get better. I'm sorry for any spelling mistake that went unnoticed.
Batman sends his sons to Amity Park to vet Cass’s mysterious new boyfriend. What they find is a ghost-infested town, a teenage superhero called Phantom, and one extremely overprotective older sister with a black belt in psychology and a roundhouse kick strong enough to launch Red Hood off a silo. Danny’s sister Jazz delivers a shovel talk for the ages—and the Batboys may never recover.
💬 Author’s Note:
Hey bestie 😘
Thank you so much for all the love and support. I took my original one-shot and turned it into a full series, because how could I not?
This one's got ghost fights, Bat-boy chaos, sibling drama, and Jason Todd catching feelings after getting his ass kicked by a therapist.
I’m having way too much fun—hope you are too!
(See end of post for more notes!)
The unassuming town of Amity, Illinois, shimmered under the afternoon sun, a picture of Midwestern normalcy that belied the chaotic ectoplasmic reality hidden beneath its surface. Fields of corn stretched to the horizon, dotted with the occasional farmhouse and a smattering of forgotten industrial structures. Perched precariously in the skeletal remains of an abandoned grain silo overlooking the town, Jason Todd (Red Hood), Dick Grayson (Nightwing), and Tim Drake (Red Robin) meticulously scanned FentonWorks through high-powered optics. The silo, a relic of a bygone agricultural era, offered a wide, if exposed, vantage point over the residential streets, and the bizarre, anachronistic structure that was the Fenton residence.
Back in Gotham, Bruce Wayne was receiving real-time feeds, his typically unreadable face betraying a rare flicker of concern that had only deepened over the past month. His adopted daughter, Cassandra Cain, their usually stoic and emotionally distant sister, had been… different. Her guarded shell had cracked, revealing glimpses of a lightheartedness they rarely saw. Her smiles, once a fleeting glimpse, were becoming more frequent, openly genuine. Her phone, once a mere communication tool for mission-critical updates or quick nods of affirmation, was practically fused to her hand, constantly buzzing with messages from "Danny." They’d seen video calls where Danny, radiating an easy charm and a slightly goofy grin, made Cass laugh—a soft, breathy sound that was music to their ears. She’d even tried to teach him some basic martial arts moves over video, a sight that had nearly given Bruce a heart attack, until he saw Danny’s endearing, clumsy attempts and Cass’s patient, gentle corrections.
The Fentons, Bruce had quickly compiled, were notorious for their "mad scientist" tendencies and their penchant for accidental chaos. Their files, compiled from fragmented news reports and obscure online forums, painted a picture of brilliant, if utterly unhinged, researchers obsessed with the paranormal. It was a bizarre narrative, but one that had surprisingly impressed the usually unflappable Dark Knight when he saw how effortlessly young Danny Fenton navigated their bizarre inventions and antics during the initial Wayne Enterprises visit. He’d even witnessed a brief, bewildering video snippet that Cass had saved from one of their chats: Danny accidentally phasing through his own bed, eliciting a silent, delighted laugh from Cass that had resonated deeply with them all.
Now, with talks of Cass actually visiting this "Danny" in Amity, Bruce had dispatched his most reliable (and, Jason would argue, expendable) sons to get a read on the situation. The directive was clear: observe and report. Assess the kid, the town, and any potential threats. The Justice League, financed largely by Bruce, prided itself on global awareness and preparedness for every conceivable menace. The idea that a hidden variable—an entire town, perhaps—especially one affecting a member of his own family, could exist without their knowledge was an anomaly he couldn't abide. It was a gaping hole in their intel.
"Still nothing," Tim grumbled into his comm, his voice a low drone of frustration. He adjusted the focus on his binoculars, which were currently trained on the quaint, slightly tilted house labeled 'FentonWorks.' The building itself looked like a cross between a suburban home and a low-budget research facility, complete with strange antenna dishes and what appeared to be a giant, metal, archway-shaped device in the backyard. "No known meta-activity, no rogue League members hiding out. Just… corn. And a surprising amount of lawn gnomes. My sensors are barely picking up anything anomalous. It’s like the whole town is a dead zone for standard readings, and then suddenly bursts of high-level… something that my instruments can’t even categorize." He gestured vaguely at the flickering readings on his wrist-mounted console.
"She's been talking to him for over a month, Tim," Dick reminded him, his voice softer, yet firm. He leaned against a rusting metal beam, scanning the horizon with his own optics. "Cass doesn't open up to just anyone. There has to be something here. Something more than corn." He sighed, remembering a recent video call where Cass was patiently showing Danny a complex martial arts move, their heads close together, eyes sparkling with shared amusement. The simple, unburdened happiness on her face was worth the trip alone. It was a rare, precious thing.
Jason snorted, wiping dust from his helmet with a gloved hand. "Yeah, something called 'teenage infatuation.' Or maybe the kid's a master manipulator. My money's still on him being a serial killer who uses 'quirky mad scientist parents' as a cover." He glanced at the makeshift thermal map of the town on Tim's tablet, which showed perfectly normal, if slightly too warm, readings from the Fenton residence. "Seriously, this town is flat. No decent vantage points, no shadows. It's like it's designed to be inconvenient for us. Bruce must hate this place."
Their initial assessment, however, was spectacularly, spectrally, wrong.
Their first night was supposed to be a quiet data-gathering session, a routine observation punctuated by the incessant chirping of crickets and the distant croaking of frogs. They watched Danny help his parents, Jack and Maddie, wrangle what looked suspiciously like a giant, glowing toaster into a specially reinforced shed behind their house. It hummed with a low, unnatural thrum. Jack, a man built like a barrel with wild black hair, nearly tripped over his own feet, sending the glowing device wobbling precariously. Maddie, sharp and focused, barked instructions that sounded like a mix of particle physics and enthusiastic culinary advice.
"Are those… Ghostbusters props?" Tim whispered, incredulous, zooming in on the glowing appliance. "That's clearly not an appropriate use of government grants, even if they're independent. And that's a lot of ectoplasm showing up on my ambient scanners now. It's like it just appeared. And it's not a known energy signature. My instruments are having trouble filtering it out, it’s saturating the air."
Suddenly, the air directly in front of the Fenton house shimmered, twisting like heat haze off asphalt, growing denser and more opaque. A portly, spectral figure, vaguely humanoid but unmistakably translucent, materialized with a dramatic WHOOSH. He wore a cardboard box for a hat and gestured dramatically at a stack of ordinary moving boxes next to the front door. His eyes glowed a sickly green, and his form rippled like heat in a desert. "I am the Box Ghost! Beware! Beware of my cardboard wrath! For I control all things… rectangular!" he boomed, his voice echoing with an unnatural resonance that vibrated through the silo, rattling loose bits of grain and dust.
The Bat-Brothers froze. Jason instinctively reached for one of the Red Hood's hidden firearms, his fingers brushing against the cool metal. Dick narrowed his eyes, analyzing the spectral form, recognizing it as something entirely outside their established threat parameters. It wasn't a meta-human, not an alien they knew, and definitely not a magical construct of any known earthly origin. Tim, ever the analyst, frantically typed notes on his wrist-mounted computer, trying to cross-reference the apparition with any known meta-human, alien, or magical profiles. Nothing matched. His systems, usually so robust, were sputtering, struggling to even categorize the energy readings that spiked wildly around the spectral entity. "He's… he's literally made of… ghost?" Tim whispered, his voice a mixture of awe and utter disbelief.
Before they could fully process the utter absurdity of the situation, a blur of white and black shot out of the Fenton house. Danny, now glowing with an eerie green aura, his hair a shocking white, intercepted the ghost mid-boast. "Oh, come on, Boxy! It's Tuesday! Don't you have a convention to haunt? Or a basement full of empty Amazon boxes calling your name? I’m seriously trying to get to bed before midnight for once!"
What followed was a brief, utterly bewildering aerial skirmish. Danny, or rather "Phantom," as the ghostly figure was now audibly calling himself, effortlessly dodged a flying stapler, phased through the roof of the shed to avoid a spectral filing cabinet, and fired glowing green ecto-blasts from his hands. The Box Ghost, for his part, tried to overwhelm Phantom with an onslaught of spectral packing peanuts and a haunting pronouncement about the perils of square footage. Then, with a weary sigh that carried clearly even to the silo, Phantom summoned a glowing thermos, aimed, and with a loud thwump, sucked the glowing Box Ghost into it. The spectral energies dissipated, and the air cleared.
Phantom then reverted to his human form, his hair returning to black, the green glow fading. He wiped a hand across his forehead, looking utterly exhausted. "Right. That's done. Time for homework," he muttered, trudging back into the house, a faint hum of ecto-energy lingering in the air.
The Bat-Brothers exchanged stunned glances. The silence in the silo was deafening, broken only by the chirping crickets, now sounding remarkably normal.
"Did… did he just fight a ghost?" Jason finally managed, his voice laced with utter disbelief, his hand still hovering over his weapon. He felt ridiculous for even considering drawing on that. His Gotham training offered no counter-strategy for a sentient cardboard box.
"And he's a ghost himself?" Dick added, eyes wide, still processing the sheer impossibility of what they'd just witnessed. "He just… transformed. Like a meta-human. But… into that. And he's Cass's boyfriend. Bruce, are you seeing this?"
Tim's fingers flew across his keyboard, his usual rapid-fire data processing overwhelmed. "My sensors are going haywire. Ectoplasmic signatures off the charts. Energy readings… they're not registering on any known scale. And the town… it's like a low-level static on every wavelength. This whole town is radiating anomalous energy! This isn't just a localized event; it's systemic." He pulled up a map, now overlaid with pulsing green hotspots, emanating from everywhere and nowhere all at once. Every block, every home, seemed to have its own faint, bizarre signature. "And this 'Phantom' is the epicenter of it all. He's part of it."
Over the next few days, their surveillance became a rapid descent into the utterly absurd. Their strategic observations turned into bewildered spectator sports, where the main attraction was the seemingly endless parade of bizarre, intangible threats, and the perpetually tired teenage hero who fought them. They ate lukewarm energy bars and watched Amity's daily paranormal circus unfold.
They witnessed battles, often several times a day, sometimes in the middle of the school day, sometimes late at night. There was Ember McLain, a spectral goth girl who controlled music, turning pop hits into ear-splitting screeches and shattering windows with a sonic wail, demanding to be recognized. There was the Lunch Lady ghost, a monstrous blob made of school lunch residue, oozing through the cafeteria walls, furious about nutritional guidelines. There was Skulker, a towering, armored hunter ghost, who engaged Phantom in brutal aerial dogfights over the local diner, always demanding a challenge. And then there were the countless minor annoyances: a hyperactive poltergeist with a penchant for pranks involving flying pizza and turning all streetlights green; a towering, skeletal cowboy who rode a ghostly steed through Main Street, lassoing parked cars for target practice; even a sentient, haunted sandwich that tried to steal the local bakery's bread.
Each time, "Phantom" swooped in to save the day. He’d phase through walls with casual ease, fly at impossible speeds, fire ecto-blasts that shattered spectral forms, and always, always end the encounter by sucking the spectral menace into a thermos. He’d do it with a sarcastic quip ("Seriously, Meat-head? Still trying to make me eat those soggy tacos?"), a weary sigh ("Can we just not today, Spectra? I have a calculus test."), or a muttered complaint about being late for class or needing a shower. He looked perpetually tired, a dark smudge under his eyes that no amount of sleep could fix. His movements were precise, practiced, almost elegant despite the raw power he wielded. He was clearly a veteran, a phantom in his own right, fighting a war no one else seemed to notice.
The Bat-Brothers, seasoned veterans of Gotham's bizarre underworld, found themselves utterly out of their depth. Their gadgets, designed to counter conventional threats—criminal gangs, meta-human villains, even the occasional alien skirmish—were useless against beings that could simply phase through them, or were themselves intangible. Their training, honed against human and meta-human adversaries, didn't account for incorporeal combatants. They had to rely on Phantom to indirectly save their hides more times than they cared to admit, often without him even knowing they were there.
One afternoon, while trailing Danny from school, they tried to get a closer look at a glowing, green portal that had spontaneously appeared in the town square. Before they could get within fifty feet, a ghostly, furry creature with glowing red eyes and razor claws burst through it, shrieking like a banshee. It looked like a monstrous wolf, all teeth and shadow. Jason immediately engaged, firing a warning shot from his non-lethal sidearm, but the creature simply phased through the bullet, its shriek growing louder as it lunged for him. Just as it was about to rip into his tactical gear, a blur of white and green intercepted it, Phantom slamming into the creature and sending it howling back into the portal with a resounding thwumph. The portal blinked shut.
"This isn't 'stalking a potential threat,'" Jason grumbled into his comm later that night, patching a new rip in his sleeve that had mysteriously appeared from an invisible ghost's claw. "This is getting our asses handed to us by… lunch lady ghosts and whatever the hell that 'Wulf' thing was. And he just teleported to save my ass. Again. For the fifth time today! My armor's getting more ectoplasm than bullet holes!"
Tim, perpetually exhausted and running on lukewarm coffee and sheer stubbornness, just stared blankly at a thermal reading of a haunted toaster that was currently causing a minor electrical fire at a local diner, making toast pop out of the toaster at impossible speeds. "My brain can't process this. Gotham has Joker. Amity has… a sentient toaster. And a Box Ghost. What is happening? More importantly, how long has this been going on, and why doesn't the Justice League know? Bruce, the League is global. How could an entire town of active, pervasive supernatural phenomena be completely off their radar? Has he been doing this for years? Decades? The sheer volume of spectral energy radiating from this place should be a flashing beacon in space!"
Dick, despite the overwhelming chaos and the genuine danger they faced, found himself increasingly fascinated. "He's genuinely good, though. He protects this town, and he does it alone. He's tired. He moves like a veteran, a ghost himself, but he’s still just a kid. And his parents… they're building the very things that seem to attract and contain these entities. How is his family stuck in the middle of all this? Is it accidental? Deliberate? And he died, didn't he? Bruce, the files said something about an accident with the portal. He's a kid, Bruce. Just a kid, doing this every single day." He watched Phantom, currently battling a giant, spectral dragon high above the town, his movements precise and practiced, almost elegant despite the raw power he wielded. The weight of his burden was palpable even from this distance, etched onto his tired, ghostly face.
Bruce's voice, gravelly and analytical, came through the comms, cutting through the static of their bewilderment. "The energy signatures are unique. Unquantifiable by known League metrics. This warrants further investigation. Continue observation. Do not engage unless absolutely necessary for your own survival. A full League debrief will be required upon your return. This… changes things. Everything."
"Too late for 'not engaging,' B," Jason muttered, eyeing another glowing entity floating past their silo, a grinning spectral clown juggling spectral bowling pins. "He's already had to save our asses three times this week. And what the hell are we supposed to tell the League? 'Sorry, we found a town full of ghosts and a teenage half-ghost who's been doing your job for who-knows-how-long, and we accidentally stumbled into his girlfriend's bizarre homelife'?" He felt a strange mix of annoyance and grudging respect for the kid. This Danny kid, this Phantom, was a force of nature, a one-man clean-up crew for an entire supernatural epidemic. And he was tired. A growing sense of dread about explaining any of this to the League settled in Jason's gut. He could already hear Diana's questions about mythological entities, Arthur's skepticism about land-locked anomalies, and Clark's cheerful but ultimately unhelpful suggestions about offering a "friendly hand."
Unbeknownst to them, their covert surveillance had not gone unnoticed. Jazz Fenton, Danny’s older sister, was many things: a psychology prodigy with an unnervingly keen eye for human (and spectral) behavior, fiercely intelligent, and burdened with an acute awareness of her parents’ scientific negligence and her brother’s impossible secret. She had navigated their dysfunctional, ghost-obsessed household with a mix of academic detachment and unwavering protectiveness for years. She'd known about Danny's powers since he first accidentally phased through the living room wall; she'd been the one to help him figure out his abilities, to keep his secret, to pick up the pieces when their parents' experiments went awry. She knew he'd died and come back, half-ghost, and she knew the terrifying weight of his secret, the constant battles, the bone-deep exhaustion that perpetually shadowed his eyes. And she’d accepted it, managing it the only way she knew how: with structure, copious therapy notes (for everyone but herself, of course), and a perpetually vigilant eye on her baby brother.
When Danny started getting giddy texts from "Cass," Jazz had been cautiously optimistic. A normal connection! A lifeline to something outside their paranormal circus. But then, the phone calls turned into video chats where she'd glimpse shadowy figures in the background on Cass's end, figures that moved with a certain predatory grace. A few carefully placed, anonymous searches about "Gotham vigilantes" and "masked figures operating in secret" sent a chill down her spine. The blurry images she found were enough. Men in tactical gear, lurking in the shadows, always near Cass. And now, Danny was talking about Cass visiting Amity. The pieces clicked into place with an alarming, horrifying certainty. Her baby brother was being drawn into a world of costumed psychopaths and brooding billionaires.
No. Absolutely not.
Jazz had enough on her plate with her parents accidentally summoning interdimensional demons on a bi-weekly basis. Her baby brother, who had already faced death and embraced a terrifying power to protect their bizarre town, was not going to be drawn into the theatrics of self-appointed, spandex-clad vigilantes. Especially not by masked men who seemed to be stalking him and, by extension, her family. Her protective older sister instincts, honed by years of parental neglect and ghostly emergencies, flared into a protective inferno.
She had been tracking the anomalous energy signatures they'd been giving off since they arrived. They were subtle, almost imperceptible to anyone not actively looking for them – a faint technological hum, a barely-there electrical discharge, traces of unique fabrics. But Jazz’s custom-built ecto-scanners (hidden inside a seemingly innocuous psychology textbook in her backpack) had pinged their unique wavelengths for days. Tonight, the readings were concentrated right above the old grain silo. Perfect. She slipped out of the house, a grim determination in her eyes, leaving her parents blissfully unaware, as usual.
The Bat-Brothers were deep in their comms, debating the feasibility of using sonic disruptors against an entirely incorporeal foe, utterly oblivious to the approaching storm. Tim was frantically trying to input new parameters for ghost classification, while Dick was contemplating if a full-spectrum light bomb could affect spectral beings. Jason was just grumbling about the existential dread of sentient pastries. A soft thump echoed from behind them. They spun, their trained reflexes kicking in, dropping into defensive stances honed over years in Gotham's darkest alleys.
Standing calmly in the dim, dusty light of the silo, a redheaded young woman in sensible jeans and a crimson hoodie looked at them. Her eyes, sharp and intelligent, narrowed as she took in their tactical gear, their masks, their very presence. She knew exactly what they were. The "training wheels Justice League" as she'd mentally dubbed them.
"So," Jazz Fenton said, her voice cutting through the tension, surprisingly calm given the circumstances. "You're the creepy stalkers who've been tracking my little brother." Her tone was deceptively light, but the underlying steel was unmistakable, a prelude to the psychological onslaught she was about to unleash.
Jason, Red Hood, ever the impulsive one, took a step forward, his hand subtly going to a holstered weapon. "Look, lady, we're just—"
He never finished the sentence. Jazz moved with a speed that belied her unassuming appearance. It wasn't the fluid, almost dancing grace of a trained martial artist like Cass, but something sharper, more direct, born of exasperation and years of dealing with literal monsters. She didn’t aim to injure, but to assert, to make a point with undeniable physical force. With a fluid movement that surprised even Nightwing, she executed a perfect roundhouse kick. It connected squarely with Jason’s chest, the muffled thwack audible even through his armor. He grunted, surprised, and stumbled backward, losing his footing on the rickety wooden planks of the silo's observation deck. He tumbled over the edge, disappearing with a surprised "oof!" into the tall grass and shadowy debris below.
Dick, Nightwing, and Tim, Red Robin, stared, dumbfounded, their defensive stances momentarily forgotten. Their comms, for once, were utterly silent.
"Jason!" Dick yelled, rushing to the edge, peering down into the darkness.
"He deserved it," Jazz declared, calmly dusting off her hands, a flicker of satisfaction in her eyes. "Trying to intimidate a psychological professional. Amateur. Honestly, the posturing is a textbook defense mechanism for deep-seated insecurities." She turned her gaze to Tim, who immediately took a more guarded stance, feeling oddly exposed despite his mask. "And you," she pointed a finger at him, her voice holding a note of exasperated concern, as if addressing a particularly difficult therapy patient, "you look like you're perpetually stressed. Dark circles. Caffeine addiction, I'd wager. You probably need a nap. And a less demanding job. Perhaps a hobby that doesn't involve lurking in dilapidated structures."
Tim, genuinely flustered by the pinpoint accuracy of her assessment, stammered, "I—I'm fine. Who are you?"
"I'm Jazz Fenton," she announced, her voice firm and clear, projecting an authority that made them both instinctively pause. "Danny's older sister. And if you think you're going to drag my baby brother into your little cape-and-cowl drama, you've got another thing coming." She then fixed Nightwing with a steely, unblinking glare that pierced straight through his domino mask. "And you. You look like the leader. You need to tell whoever you work for – Bruce Wayne, I presume, given his daughter's… particular circle of acquaintances – that if they lay one gloved hand on my brother, if they try to interfere with his life or, God forbid, try to recruit him, I will personally dissect their psychological profile and expose every single one of their neuroses to the entire city. I will publish it. I will lecture on it. Your mysterious lives? Over. Capiche?"
Dick, usually unflappable, the master of de-escalation, the one who could talk down angry villains and comfort traumatized victims, could only gape, his mouth slightly ajar behind his mask. "What the fuck is wrong with this town?" he muttered under his breath, utterly bewildered by the sudden, unexpected, and terrifyingly competent civilian intervention. This wasn't just a threat; it was a deeply personal, meticulously planned, psychological ambush.
Before Jazz could deliver another psychological threat, a new presence shimmered into existence beside her, a flash of white and green. Phantom materialized, his white hair a mess, his glowing green eyes wide with panic as he took in the scene: Jazz, mid-rant, and two bewildered masked figures, with a third, even more bewildered one, slowly rising from the ground below. He'd been battling a particularly persistent spectral clown that kept turning innocent citizens into balloon animals, and his ecto-sense had just screamed at him that Jazz was about to do something drastically embarrassing.
"Jasmine!" Danny, as Phantom, hissed, his voice laced with mortification, his spectral glow flickering with agitated energy. He saw Red Hood slowly picking himself up from the ground below, rubbing his chest. "Oh my god, Jasmine! Tell me you didn't just punt-kick an ex-crime lord off a roof! Please, please, please tell me you didn't!" He turned to the two masked figures still on the platform, his glowing eyes widening apologetically. "I am so sorry about her. She's… very protective. And a bit dramatic. She means well, mostly." He floated slightly, wringing his spectral hands. "Look, I know this is weird, and I know you guys are… well, you guys. Could you please, please not send Batman here? He'd just make things worse. He’d probably try to analyze the ghosts, or worse, put them in Arkham. And honestly, we've got enough problems with the actual ghosts without adding a brooding vigilante and his highly trained, hyper-competent-but-currently-traumatized family to the mix."
Red Hood slowly looked up from the ground, brushing himself off. The dust of the silo stuck to his armor, and he felt a phantom ache in his chest where the kick had landed. He saw Phantom hovering, a kid in a ghostly suit, clearly mortified by his sister's actions. He then saw Jazz, arms crossed, looking at Danny with a look that clearly said, 'He started it, little brother, and frankly, I'm proud.' A faint, almost imperceptible flush crept up Jason's neck, spreading beneath his helmet. "Huh. She's… got a good kick," he mumbled, a strange, new thought blooming in his very confused mind. She had audacity. And she was protecting her brother. And that red hair… yeah.
Red Robin, however, was already done. He clutched his head, eyes wide with a mixture of exasperation and existential terror. "I'm so done. I'm taking a sabbatical. To a deserted island. With no internet. And no ghosts. Or highly articulate, psychologically astute older sisters who can apparently punt highly trained vigilantes into next week."
Jazz, a triumphant smirk gracing her lips, ignored Danny's mortified apologies. "Now," she said, cutting across him, her voice resonating with finality, "if you'll excuse us, my brother and I have actual interdimensional threats to deal with, largely thanks to our parents'… enthusiasm. You boys have fun with your… whatever this is. And seriously," she added, her voice echoing as she pulled a still-apologetic Danny (who was still trying to explain that the kick was "an accident, mostly," and that Jason was "probably a nice guy, underneath the ex-crime lord thing") by the ear, "therapy. It helps. And communication. You need better communication skills. That's a foundational principle, people."
Danny, still red-faced, gave one last frantic, apologetic wave to the bewildered Bat-Brothers before Jazz dragged him away, both of them dematerializing and disappearing into the Amity night, leaving two very confused, and one very intrigued, masked vigilantes behind. The hum of the ecto-energy, once a strange anomaly, now felt like the heartbeat of the most bewildering town they had ever encountered. Gotham had nothing on Amity, Illinois.
📌 Bonus Notes (at the end of the post):
I love when Jazz goes full big sister mode and Danny panics like “NOOO DON’T KICK THE BATMEN.”
Because what do you mean you yeeted Red Hood off a silo... and he liked it 🤣🤣🤣
Let me know what you think! Batfam shenanigans are my love language.
Don't get me wrong, I enjoy shipping as much as the next person, but sometimes I need a break. This is a list of Alastor-centric fanfics where either A) he is not involved in a romantic or sexual relationship (queerplatonic relationships or relationships that can be interpreted as QPRs may appear) or B) any shipping is one-sided and not reciprocated on Alastor's part. (Radiosilence/Onewaybroadcast, for example)
Currently, there is a heavy bias in this list towards angst and whump, because that's my personal preference. If you have any fics you'd like to suggest for the list, feel free to send them to me via asks!
This list will be too long and have too many entries to fit into a Tumblr post, and I don't want to make a whole masterlist, so this is a link to a public Ellipsus document that I can update regularly!
Ellipsus makes it easy for anyone to write together.
Disclaimer: I am a romance-averse, sex-averse aroace. I do enjoy those things in fiction, but not always. I am prone to intentionally interpreting anything I can as a QPR for the sake of it.
Summary: The first meeting of Feyd-Rautha and his betrothed except for the fact that he didn't know that he was engaged at all.
There are no warnings this is just a bunch of fluff.
Hair was something uncommon on Giedi Prime because of their black sun. The radiation has caused children being born on Giedi prime not to have hair and to have extremely pale completions. This statement has never been better expressed than with the Na-Baron, the heir of the Harkonnen family. He was the reason I had traveled far across the galaxy in a guild ship to this bleak if not outright miserable planet. So when I arrived on the home planet of one of one of the most powerful families I stood out like a bright splatter of paint on a white floor even with my hair being covered. I had never met the Baron. All I knew about him came from the schooling I was put through to “know about” the other great houses. He was known to be a cruel man and the rumors about his nephew the Na- Baron didn’t bode well for me. I was led through these grand hallways by Harkonnen Guards. They were dressed in black uniforms so synonymous with brutality and fear. Approaching the large foreboding door at the end of the hall I could feel my palms sweating.
Such a horrible man stood behind those doors. From what I had heard about him he wasn’t able to stand without the help of suspenders belts. That had been some of the gossip at parties. I wiped my hands on the soft and colorful fabrics that surrounded my body and the doors were pushed open. I entered into a room that could only be described as a throne room. Servants and guards lined the halls but I paid them little mind. The Baron sat at the end of the hall in a suspenser chair. He was a disgusting creature to have to witness let alone interact with. His large body made his head look uncomfortably small, his eyes were beady and calculating and his droopy face would have given him a continuous morose appearance if it wasn’t for the sickening smile he was directing right at me. I held back from smearing but I couldn’t hide the down turning of my lips. I have never been so grateful for the red veil that I had been forced to wear. It also allowed me a moment to glance my eyes over to the man who stood next to and a bit behind the Baron. Feyd Rautha Harkonnen my fiance.
Feyd Rautha had been standing next to his uncle for around half an hour by the time the doors had opened. He hadn’t known why he had originally been called to the main room after being told to be in his formal dress. Once he had gotten there was when his uncle had finally let him into the loop.
“Dear Nephew, I feel I have let you languish in your potential for too long. Your 21st birthday ceremony is almost upon us and so I have a coming of age gift for you. She will be arriving today.” The deep basso voice of my uncle spoke. There was a lilt of amusement in his voice that subconsciously made my muscles tense up.
“She?” I asked. It wasn't uncommon for my uncle to gift me servants or even concubines but this was odd. To be held in the main hall and with so many people. I swept my eyes around the room. Servants and guards lined the halls all dressed in their formal attire. There was a long pause before my uncle spoke again.
“Of course… and good of you to appear in formal dress for this occasion…” another drawn out moment of silence. Of course I had come in formal uniform, you had instructed it I thought angrily. I was becoming impatient. He just looked out at the door clearly waiting for someone to come in.
“What Occasion?!” I snapped quietly at him. Disrespecting him was one thing, he was old but no fool and I wouldn’t dare do it in front of so many people. This only caused him to laugh, his basso voice carrying over the whole room as he leaned back into the throne like a couch. The door at the end of the hall opened and a small group of guards broke off allowing the figure they escorted to walk forward on her own towards us. She was covered in color. A red flowing veil covered her face as yellow shawls covered her upper body and arms transitioning into a skirt of flowers that went from yellow and as they flowed behind her they became green. I wasn’t sure I had ever seen such bright colors on Giedi Prime before and the murmurs around the great room no other seems to have expected it either. My uncle never answered my question simply standing and greeting the women who now stood not 20 feet from me. As my uncle stood she swept her arms out beside her allowing the fabrics she wore to flow and fall around her as she bowed low.
“Welcome my dear…” The Baron spoke leaving a long pause. I stared up at him through my veil seeing everything as a tint of red. I glanced over to Feyd Rautha and our eyes locked. He wasn't able to see my eyes properly through the veil but I could see him clearly. He was just as menacing as he had been described. I knew of his fighting in the area and that he would be doing it again in a few days for his birthday. The long pause was over as the baron finished his sentence. My eyes never left Feyd. “It is so nice to have my soon to be niece, finally here”
The minute those words left the Baron's mouth Fayed's head snapped from me to his uncle a look of utter bewilderment and outrage flashed across his face. The Baron only let out a basso laugh as he continued. “I hope your travel here was not too taxing and that you will join us for dinner this evening.” I bowed lower and nodded my head.
“Thank you my Baron, it will be an honor to dine with you and my soon to be husband.” I was not trained in the Bene Gesserit way as many other women in political marriages were but I was able to keep the shake of anxiety out of my voice as I felt the burning glare of the Na-Baron. So no one told him about this… odd I had known about this arrangement when it was made on my 8th birthday.
“Feyd” The Baron never faced his nephew as he spoke. “ Escort the lady Grosbeak to her temporary guest room… Happy birthday nephew” An evil smile danced on the Baron's lips. Wicked and twisted. Feyd stepped forward off the small platform they stood on and over to me. I finally straightened myself out of the bow. The Na-baron walked with light steps and fluidity of someone meant to rule but I could see and practically feel the anger radiating off of him. So I was to be a birthday gift? I had come here with the understanding that he was aware of the treaty that had been going on between our home planets for the past 12 years and that they where just waiting for us to both become of age. I turned 21 not 3 weeks before this and I was not surprised that it had not been a month before they shipped me off.
Without a word the Na-Baron began to lead towards one of the offshoots of the main room. Before following him I turned back towards the Baron and spoke. “Thank you Lord Baron for your welcoming hospitality.” With one last precautionary bow I quickly walked after Feyd Rautha who had not stopped for a moment as I bid my goodbyes to his uncle. The Guards that had led me in were waiting as we exited into the side passage. As the doors closed behind me we were swallowed into the dead silence other than the rhythmic stepping of our feet. He walked quickly and anytime I became close to keeping up with him he would lengthen his stride or speed up even more. By the time we made it to the end of the hallway it practically felt like I was jogging just to keep up with him. We rounded a corner and his sudden stop started and I had been almost sure he was about to break into a full sprint once out of my sight but his sudden stop gave me no time to react. Resulting in my body crashing right against him.
Fadye was testing her. Trying to see not only if she could physically keep up with him but if she would be willing to break convention and chase after him. High born women like her did not run let alone chase after a man in the hallways. But there she was jogging after him down the hall. He could just barely see her out of the corner of his eye. She held her dress up slightly above her feet, the fabric flowed behind her as she sped after him. The red veil that was still covering her face had traveled up exposing some of her pale skin. Upon making a quick turn of the corner he spun around to a stop. She took the turn much faster then he had honestly expected her to and she wasn't able to stop before crashing into him. His scheming had worked but a little too well. His plan was to have her crash into him so he would be able to pin her to a wall, question and intimidate her into begging to be out of this marriage. But because she assumed he was going to break into a full sprint she took that corner ready to break into one herself. So when she crashed into the Na-Baron instead of Feyd catching her like he planned. They hit the floor.
In what looked like an explosion of color she fell on top of me. Dress floating in the air before settling around us. I shot my eyes open after the impact and I was met with soft dark blue eyes staring wide eyed not 5 inches from my face. The veil had fallen around us and her face was not what I had expected. High born women often had either sharp or soft features.
But his bride was an odd mix of both. A strong jawline with a soft round nose. Her eyes looked at him as if they could look into him and know all his secrets and sins. It sent a shiver down his spine. Her eyes wandered over his face with a familiarity as if she had seen him hundreds of times before as though she had already memorized his face and was only reviewing him now. In that moment the realization dawned on him. She had known about this marriage long before he did. He must question her but not here, not in front of his uncles guards. Who would inform his uncle of anything and everything. His eyes wandered her face, noticing the long eyelashes and her soft lips. They were painted a soft red color. She pulled away cheeks tinting red as she stood up fixing her veil and dress.
“I am so sorry my Na-Baron.” I quickly hid my head from him in my veil covering up the blush that continued to creep onto my cheeks. That had to have been the most embarrassing thing that could have happened! The way he looked at me was filled with emotion. What emotions I can’t really say. There seemed to be a mix of surprise and almost realization. I am not sure what I had given away in that brief moment but it must have been something. He waved away my apology and turned to the guards that had been escorting us.
“Leave us.” The guards gave a moment of hesitation at Feyd’s order but with a glare they quickly bowed and headed back to the main room. Now we stood alone in the hall. The weight of just how dangerous the situation I had been put in finally started to settle in. He took a step towards me, eyes locked with mine. Glancing around he finally spoke to me for the first time. “How long have you known?”
“OH!” I was taken a bit off guard by the question. I paused trying to think of the most proper way to explain it but that moment was cut short.
“Speak plainly! I don't have time for your formalities.” I raised an eyebrow at the bluntness of his statement. I allow my shoulders to drop from the strict posture that had been drilled into me from a young age. The slightly higher pitched voice I used in court and around other nobles also dropped with his demand.
“For around 12 years.” His eyes widened in surprise, less composed than before, He grabbed me and started dragging me down the hall into one of the closest rooms. A bedroom.
“Who are you!” he growled passing around the room once the door had been closed and locked.
“I am taking your anger that you didn’t know about this arrangement.” I was in truth rather surprised by his angry outbursts. But I couldn't really hold it against him when I had been told that I was to marry him. I had been a child and didn't fully understand what I was being told.
“No! and this marriage will not be happening” he stormed over to where I sat glaring down at me. I let out a tired sigh leaning back into the couch. I pulled the veil off of my head and threw it next to me.
“You don’t really have a choice in this. Just like me.” He got very close to my face, placing his hands on either side of my body.
“I am the Na-Baron of Geidi Prime. I will not be marrying a whore from a house no one has ever heard from.” All I did was shrug.
“Fine by me. But you will have to be the one to tell the Baron that you wants to jeopardize the outpost he wishes to put on my home moon.” He paused but he didn’t move back. Continuing to stare at me. I think he is trying to play mind games one would play with a Bene Gesserit but I am not one. So as he tried to play mind games staring intensely into my eyes. I kinda just stared at him feeling awkward. I let out a small sigh eventually looking away from him. Almost moments later I felt a hand firmly grabbing my chin and turning my head back to face him.
“You will look at me when I talk to you.” He practically growled. It took every once of training I had ever been given not to laugh. Leaning back into the couch I raised an eyebrow in a mock question.
“Well?” I asked.
“Well, what?” the anger in his eyes faded a bit and was replaced with confusion. Rolling my eyes I looked down my nose at him.
“Well, talk. You want to be heard so badly. So… talk. While I do have all day I also just got off a guild ship and I am wanting to go to sleep.” I don’t know if it was surprise that flashed in his eyes or what, but they were now filled with more of a mild annoyance than the burning rage from before.
“Why you?” He pulled back and began pacing the room again as he questioned me. I gave a small shrug.
“Like I said before, he is wanting to put an outpost on our moon.”
“But it is just an outpost with no reason to be marrying the heir to the Harkonnen name. What is so special about that moon? And WHY didn’t he tell me of this?” He was more rambling off questions to himself than to me anymore. So I waited for him to take a breath before I cut in.
“It’s not really the moon itself that is special. Though it is filled with valuable minerals. My home planet has been mining that moon for generations. I am almost certain that it is more the location of it that is what your uncle is after.” I gave a small pause seeing that he had stopped his pacing. “I am not sure how much I am allowed to say…” I trail off.
“I am to be your husband, you will tell me everything you know!” he exclaimed angrily. I huffed out a laugh.
“Oh? So you are to be my husband now?” I mocked. “But just moments ago you proclaimed…” doing my best impression of him. I puffed up my chest and deepened my voice as I mimicked what he had said earlier. “This marriage will not be happening.” I let out a small huff of laughter as I saw his scowl darken.
“We both know there is no talking my uncle out of this marriage so you will tell me everything you know!”
“Know" is a strong way of putting it. This is just the stuff I have gathered from… I don’t want to say eavesdropping because is it really eavesdropping if it is about your own marriage?” He has slowly made his way over to the couch and taken a seat beside me. I shoot him a cheeky smile as I continue.
“I am from Enerer. As you probably know it is the closest planet to Kaitain also known as the ‘Home of the emperor’. As you said before it would be absurd for The Baron Harkonene to marry off his heir to quote “some whore” just for an outpost.” I saw him cringe ever so slightly at his own words being thrown back at him.
“But it is less absurd if he is marrying his heir off for the promise of silence so that this out post can be kept a secret from the emperor.” The pieces seemed to finally click as he started to realize the beginnings of a scheme that had been in place of the past decade. “For what I am honestly not sure. That is a secret that was guarded more heavily than simple “not eavesdropping” could disclose.”
“And this is all the information you have gathered from… “not eavesdropping” as you say.” I nod my head in affirmation.
“Everyone is a lot more willing to talk about such topics with a child around. When they think said child doesn't know what is going on. It is their own faults that I know so much.”
“I am still not pleased with this arrangement.” He said as he looked me over. “I thought if I was going to be married off it would be to someone… More refined." Scoffing, I raised an eyebrow at him.
“More refined? You think I want to be here? No offence but your planet is a dismal ball of irradiated dirt.”
“How dare you insult my home!” He stood from the couch and loomed over me. “I am the Na-Baron of the Harkonnen family. You will respect me.” I gave a short laugh and stood from the couch meeting his gaze. He was only around 4 inches taller than me but in my heels we were almost the same height.
“I do really hate to remind you of this but by the end of the week I will be the Na-Baroness so…” She shoots me a cheeky smile as she starts to make her way towards the door. The anger that had slowed to a simmer began boiling over once again as she headed towards the door. From what she had said it was clear that there was no way out of this marriage. I will confirm it all with my uncle and I will demand to be let in on any further screaming with my name. She stood by the door now looking back at me.
“What?” I snapped. She was looking at me expectantly as if waiting for me to do something. Rolling her eyes she gestured to the door.
“You are supposed to be showing me to my room. And I am personally really tired and would like to sleep.” The audacity of this woman! To think she can make demands of me to make me the Heir of the Harkonanen family do what she wants.
I heard a quiet grumble as Feyd walked over to me and out the door. He led me down the maze-like halls of this grand palace. Not a word is spoken between us and I am okay with that. The trip over and the whole ceremony had stressed me out so bad that now that I was alone in the halls with only my future husband I began to grow very tired. Eventually we made it to a bedroom that he said was mine. I give him a nod of thanks and as I am about to head into the room he grabs me and pushes me against the room.
A puff of air leaves my lungs as my back hits the wall. Pale blue eyes stare into mine. There is a moment where I wonder what he will do before I feel his lips press to mine. He pressed further into me like a man on a mission. Once the initial shock was gone I pressed back into him with the same amount of force. I felt his hands move from the wall and land on my hips, his grip was rough and filled with anger. I reached up, placing one of my hands on his shoulder as the other found its way to the back of his head. There in the hall we fought for dominance as our mouths clashed together. Pulling back only to catch our breath he was glaring down at me as I glanced over his face. I was rather pleased to see the slight dusting of blush appear on his cheeks and the swollen color of his lips. I knew for a fact that I looked no better but to see his perfect face disheveled in that way brought a cocky smile to my face.
A low growl bubbled in his chest and if it hadn’t been for that cursed guard to walk around the corner it looked as if we would have continued to “fight” there in the hallway. But the guard did come down the hall and Feyd stepped back allowing me to open the door to my room.
“Goodnight Na-Baron it was a pleasure to make you acquaintance today.” I hummed entering my room. I blew him a kiss as I closed the door. Leaning against the closed door I sank to the floor covering my blushing face. I hadn't expected something like that so soon and I hadn’t expected his lips to be so… so soft. My heart beat rapidly in my chest as even my ears started to turn pink.
Maybe this marriage wouldn’t be the worst thing after all.
Unbeknownst to her after the door had closed Feyd-Rautha had rushed down the hall to his own room face alight with a soft blush matching her own. He held his hands to his chest and growled out of frustration. This had not been his first kiss by any stretch of the imagination but it stood out in his mind as one of the most passionate. His hand struck the wall behind him leaving a small dent as he tried to calm his rapid beating of his heart. He thought that…
If she had such an effect on him now, maybe this marriage would be the worst thing after all.
Warnings: Making out, Oral (fem! receiving), Locker room sex, Lowkey hate fucking, Aged up, Aftercare at the end! Also this is my first smut so it might be a little sloppy😓 Again, not really proofread so my apologies!
wc: 2.7k
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Aomine had just faced a frustrating loss. No matter how old he gets or how many times he’ll lose in a game, he’ll always lose his shit over it.
He was currently in the locker room, hunched over on a bench when all his teammates already left.
His jersey was forgotten on the floor as sweat dripped down his body and face, replaying the final score of the game in his head. He was just getting more and more frustrated as his mind kept thinking about how he lost.
The last time he lost was all the way back in high school, against Seirin. That day was the day he realized even he can lose sometimes. Doesn’t mean it’ll make him forget about such a loss.
Aomine snapped out of his trance when you walked into the locker room, freezing mid-step as you finally found who you were looking for. Aomine.
“Daiki? What are you doing here? It’s getting late.”—You gently scolded, not happy how he got you so worried just to end up sulking in the locker room.
Aomine didn’t answer, keeping his gaze on the floor beneath him. That caused you to briefly frown as you stepped closer.
“Daiki?”—You called out once again, waiting for some kind of response from him. But he just stayed silent.
You and Aomine were pretty close friends. You had met in high school and sort of stuck by his side ever since. Sure, the guy was stubborn and a bit of an asshole at times, but he had a good heart.
Aomine finally took a glimpse at you with half-lidded eyes. “Leave me alone.”—Aomine grumbled, his gaze returning to the ground.
You sighed, realising he was going to be stubborn about this. Like always.
“Daiki, seriously. Go home. You can’t stay here.”—You tried telling him, worried about him maybe thinking too much about the previous game.
But Aomine didn’t answer once again. You were starting to get frustrated yourself. Why couldn’t he just listen and go home? Why did he feel the need to stay stubborn and ignore your worried protests? It was getting on your nerves. And so, you snapped a bit.
“You’re not going to fix the loss by sitting here all night!”—You finally managed to say, your tone coming off slightly harsher than you intended.
Aomine’s head snapped up as his gaze moved to you. He didn’t want to admit it, but what you just said hit a nerve. “Then stop talking like you know what I need.”—Aomine snapped back, his eyes darkening as his anger started to boil inside him.
You could see the anger in his gaze, could see this was going to become a heated argument, but you were no better than Aomine. Your pride was too good for you to back down and so, you kept firing back.
“I guess I do know what you need, at least better than yourself. You’re not in high school anymore, Daiki!”—You responded with your voice slightly getting louder with each word.
That was when Aomine finally stood up and turned to you, anger full blown visible in his eyes. He was certainly not happy with you comparing him to his old high school self.
“Stop acting like you know me better than I know myself!”—Aomine finally shouted back, his volume of voice matching yours.
“Maybe I do! You’re just too childish to make proper adult decisions!”—You responded back, both you and Aomine getting angrier and angrier with each other. The entire argument was just you two calling each other out and going back and forth.
It wasn’t long before you finally had enough of his bullshit and turned around to leave. “Whatever, Daiki. You seriously need to grow up and act like an adult.”—Was the last thing you said before attempting to storm out of the locker room, but a hand caught your wrist.
A rough, briefly calloused hand. You turned around to see Aomine had gently grabbed onto your wrist. He was still angry, that much was visible on his face, but his touch was gentle. Why?
“…Daiki? What are you doing?”—You finally managed to say, breaking the heated silence of the room.
Aomine didn’t answer for a bit, as if he didn’t know himself. His grip on your wrist subtly tightened before his gaze met yours. “…Don’t leave.”—Aomine quietly said, almost inaudible but you managed to catch what he said.
But honestly, you thought you were mishearing him. “What?”—You couldn’t help but say, confusion clear in your voice.
Aomine just grumbled and looked away, a small hint of redness on his cheeks. “I said….stay. I don’t want you to leave.”—Aomine repeated, his voice louder this time.
You just stared at Aomine with wide eyes, not believing what you were hearing. You thought Aomine was in a state of mind where he wanted nothing to do with you because of how angry he seemed, but you guess you were wrong.
Your expression softened, a small hint of a smile tugging at your lips. You didn’t even realize it, but you were inching closer and closer to Aomine. Aomine noticed but didn’t even try to stop you. In fact, he stepped closer himself.
Closer, closer, and closer.
Before neither of you knew it, your lips were attached to one another. The kiss wasn’t soft or sweet, nothing like how all your past kisses were. Aomine kissed you like he was starving, like he wasn’t shouting at you a few minutes ago.
Aomine slowly backed you up towards the wall without breaking the kiss, your back hitting the locker behind you.
Aomine’s lips slowly slipped down from yours and made contact with your neck instead. He left a few hickeys and bite marks on your neck before going even lower until reached your collarbone.
He pulled away from your collarbone but only to drop to his knees. Your eyes widened when you saw him do that, panic rising in you but Aomine’s voice cut through your thoughts.
“Can I?”—Aomine asked, and you knew exactly what he was referring to. You were still a bit hesitant, but your arousal was getting the best of you. You didn’t want to ruin the friendship you had with Aomine, but you wanted him to fuck you so bad, the desperation is crazy.
“Yes…yes please.”—You finally managed to respond with a few pants in between. Aomine didn’t hesitate to bury his face between your thighs. He pushed your skirt up roughly and pulled your panties aside, exposing your lower body to him.
You were already wet, so much so that it was dripping down your thighs. Aomine’s eyes widened at the sight of your dripping wet pussy. A low, hungry growl escaped him as he stared at your most intimate part.
Without hesitation, he leaned in and took a long, slow lick from the bottom of your slit all the way up to your clit. “Fuck…”
That slow, agonizing lick made you throw your head back and moan at the contact. Aomine groaned against your folds, the taste of your wetness exploding on his tongue. You tasted even better than he imagined—sweet and addictive, just like candy.
He started licking and sucking at your pussy like a starving man, his large hands gripping your thighs roughly to keep you open for him. “So fucking good.”
You were already feeling a knot in the low part of your stomach, Aomine’s tongue on you feeling too good for you to think. “D-Daiki…!”—You moaned his name loudly, your thighs clenching around his head.
Aomine didn’t even properly hear your pleas from how focused he was eating you out, his pace being aggressive and sloppy. His tongue was pushing inside your tight hole while his thumb rubbed circles around your clit.
The locker room echoed with the wet sounds of Aomine’s mouth on your pussy and your desperate moans. You finally couldn’t take it anymore, feeling your orgasm building up inside you fast. “I…I’m gonna-ngh!“—You were cut off by Aomine giving your pussy a slow suck, causing your thighs to start to shake.
Aomine could feel your thighs quivering around his head, your walls clenching around his invading tongue. He redoubled his efforts, sucking on your clit like a lollipop while two fingers pushed inside you, curling upwards to press that perfect spot.
“Then cum.”—he said as he growled against your dripping pussy. “Cum on my face, sweetheart. Let me drink you all up.”
That was exactly what pushed you over the edge, causing you to cum all over his face. He moaned in pleasure as your sweet juices flooded his mouth and spilled down his chin. He lapped at you greedily, not letting a single drop go to waste.
When your orgasm finally subsided, he looked up at you with a satisfied, messy smirk—his face dripping with your cum. “Tastes like fucking honey.”—Aomine purred, licking his lips.
But you didn’t answer, you could barely even register what he had just said as your mind was empty. You were in an orgasm state as your thighs were still briefly quivering.
You thought you and Aomine were done, that he was satisfied. But God, were you wrong.
He stood up and crashed his messy face against yours, kissing you deeply so you could taste yourself on his tongue. His hard dick pressed against your stomach through his basketball shorts.
“My turn.” he growled between kisses, starting to unbutton his shorts. He quickly shoved his shorts and boxers down, his hard cock springing free—thick and already glistening with pre-cum.
Your eyes immediately dropped down to his cock. Cause damn—it was big. How was that going to fit inside your tiny hole? Aomine’s tongue barely fit inside of you.
Aomine noticed the terrified awe in your eyes as you stared at his size. A dark, arrogant smirk spread across his face as he wrapped his hand around his thick shaft, giving it a slow pump.
“Scared, princess?”—Aomine teased, stepping between your shaking legs. “Don't worry. I'll make it fit."—He said before he tapped the heavy tip against your soaking wet slit.
You whimpered at the brief contact against your slit, but you still looked unsure. “Are you sure…?”—You asked in a hesitant tone.
Aomine’s expression subtly softened as he leaned down, kissing you softly to reassure you, though his smirk remained arrogant. “Positive.”—he confirmed before he rubbed his thick tip against your clit, gathering your wetness to slick himself up.
“You're dripping for me. Relax.”—he reassured you, then he pressed forward, slowly pushing the massive head inside your tight entrance, groaning at the resistance.
“Just breathe, sweetheart.”—Aomine tried to say, letting you adjust to his size but he himself wasn’t really able to take how your pussy was clenching around him.
As soon as Aomine entered inside, your pussy was clenching uncontrollably around him, causing his head to fall back with a guttural groan, his jaw clenching hard as he fought the urge to explode instantly.
The feeling of your tiny cunt clenching around his massive thickness was almost blindingly tight. “F-fuck... stop squeezing me so hard..."—Aomine choked out, his fingers digging bruisingly into your hips.
“I-I can’t help it…”—You said, squeezing your eyes shut tightly as you ran your nails against his back, most definitely leaving some scratch marks.
The way your walls pulsed and clenched around Aomine like a fucking velvet vice was the hottest thing he'd ever felt. He finally decided to move as he pushed deeper, his thick cock stretching you impossibly wide. Aomine groaned, now balls deep inside you. “You feel too fucking good.”
You whimpered and moaned loudly once he pushed deeper, your nails digging into the skin of his back. “Nngh…D…Daiki…!!”—You screamed between pants.
Aomine hearing his name fall from your lips in that high-pitched, desperate voice nearly broke him. He started moving his hips, pulling back until only the tip remained inside, then thrusting forcefully back in, making you cry out again. “There it is.” he growled approvingly.
Your hands eventfully left his back and gripped onto his shoulders for support. “D-deeper, please!”—You moaned out, almost desperate for him to go faster.
Aomine’s hips snapped forward harder, burying himself completely inside you with a wet slap. He lifted your legs higher around his waist, angling himself to hit deeper.
“Like this?”—he rasped, thrusting up at that new angle—each stroke hitting that deep spot inside you that made your vision blur. “You're clenching so tight, I can barely breathe."
When Aomine heard your moans becoming louder the rougher he got, he started picking up his tempo. His thrusts became rapid, hard, and brutal—each one ramming his thick length impossibly deep into your quivering body.
The locker room now echoed with the sounds of skin slapping against skin, wet squelching noises, and your constant stream of moans and whimpers. “Fucking take it, baby.”—Aomine whispered into your ear, gently nipping at your earlobe.
Your enticing noises was driving Aomine over his edge, your pussy clenching uncontrollably around his cock. The combination of your tightness and those obscene sounds you were making was making him delirious with pleasure.
He felt like he was fucking a wet, velvet glove that was determined to milk his cock dry. “Your pussy is going to make me cum so fast.”—Aomine moaned out, feeling his climax building up.
“…Th-then cum. Please.”—You whimpered, feeling that familiar knot building up into the lower part of your stomach yourself. Your orgasm was close.
Aomine’s eyes rolled back as he felt his balls tightening, his thrusts becoming erratic and deep. He wrapped his arms around your thighs, pulling you down onto his cock as he buried himself to the hilt.
Aomine thrusted inside your pussy one last time before he managed to pull out at the last second, his semen oozing all over your stomach.
His head dropped onto your shoulder, both of you breathing heavily as sweat dripped down your temple. Aomine snaked his arms around your waist possessively before he lifted his head up to meet your gaze.
“…The shower’s right there. We should get ourselves cleaned up.”—Aomine whispered, still panting heavily. You physically couldn’t reply, just nodded a yes.
———
You and Aomine were currently in the shower, Aomine promising to take care of you after how rough he’d been.
He was bent down slightly for you to be able to reach his hair as you messaged shampoo onto his navy blue locks. When you were done doing so, he straightened his back again as he watched you do the same with your own hair.
After you two rinsed out your hair, Aomine suddenly wrapped his arms around your body from behind tightly, causing you to squeak out in surprise.
“D-Daiki?”—You said, your voice confused. But Aomine didn’t answer, just kept his arms around you.
“You’re still sticking around, right?”—Aomine asked in an unusually quiet tone, as if he were hoping you’d say yes.
You blinked, not sure what he exactly meant by that. Did he expect you to leave him after everything you two had just done? No way.
You let out a brief chuckle. “Of course I am, silly. You’re still my friend, nothing changed.”—You said, smiling softly now.
Aomine sighed in relief, his grip on your body tightening as his signature smirk came back on his face. “But we’re doing this more often, that’s what’s changed.”—Aomine said teasingly, which caused you to laugh.
After you two got out of the shower, you went to go get dressed. You got dressed before Aomine did so you were waiting outside of the changing rooms for him when you realised it was already midnight. Oh right, you two had done all that in the locker rooms.
After Aomine finished changing, he leaned his chin onto your shoulders. “Cmon, i’ll drive you home.”—Aomine said into your ear.
You smiled when you heard his voice and nodded as a ‘sure’. But before you and Aomine left the locker rooms, you wrapped your arms around his neck and asked him the question that has been on your mind this entire time.
“Did I help comfort you about that loss?”
“Are you kidding? I forgot that I lost hours ago.”
