The Artist And The Tattooist

The artist and the Tattooist

🏳️‍🌈Jason Todd x Male!Reader

Reader is a painter and owns a gallery across the street from Jason’s Tattoo Studio

Day one of living in Gotham and you really didn’t get why it had a bad rep. It was a nice area, at least the part you lived in. The area you opened your gallery was in a nice area too.

You did get that some parts of Gotham were not as welcoming once the sun went down, but that’s like most places.

You placed all your canvases on the stands as you looked around, breathing in deeply with a smile on your face. You could be your own boss, work your own hours. Relax.

You heard rock music playing from across the street, not too loud, but loud enough it caught your attention.

There was a guy outside the studio across the street, he was tall, muscular and had ink almost everywhere. At least from where you could see, though he was wearing a tank top and shorts, which didn’t cover much. He was carrying boxes inside from the back of his truck.

‘Todd’s place, sounds cute’ you said to yourself as you walked out of your studio, making sure to lock the doors behind yourself.

You walked across the street and went inside the studio, you looked round to see books on the shelves. Opening some and flipping through pages, it was all artwork.

The smell of fresh ink filled your nostrils as you took in the sight of the studio, it was clean. The sound of a tattoo gun could be heard in the distance.

‘Hey, can I help you?’ The tall, muscular guy from earlier said as he walked into view. Smiling at you.

Tattoos down both his arms, up his neck, you could see a bit of his chest and there were tattoos there too. His hands had some nice flower work.

‘Hi, sorry to just walk in, I just opened the art studio across the street. I heard music and thought I’d come over’ you said, trying not to blush too much, as the handsome man looked in your eyes.

‘Sorry, is the music too loud? I was cleaning and moving stuff around to make room for the delivery. I must’ve not realised’ he said, fumbling for the control to the stereo.

‘Oh no, I like Nirvana. I just wanted to come and introduce myself’ you reached your hand out, stopping him from turning the music off.

‘Great, well it’s nice to meet you, I’m Jason. Jason Todd’ he held his hand out.

‘Y/n y/l/n’ you shook his hand, smiling.

‘Todd? As in…?’ You began, Jason chuckling.

‘Yeah, Todd’s place, thought it would be a cool name’ Jason blushed a little.

‘It is’ you reassured, Jason nodding over to your studio.

‘What’s your place called?’ He asked, you narrowed your eyes.

‘Y/l/n’

Jason laughed, finding it funny that you both had the same idea of naming your studio simply after your last names.

‘I like the artwork, who’s the artist? In the books’ you asked, Jason smiled slightly.

‘Me and my best friend, Roy’ he admitted, you raising an eyebrow. Clearly impressed.

‘Wow, I’m impressed’

‘Thanks, I’m assuming the canvases you sell are your own artwork?’ Jason urged, he was seemingly liking this conversation.

‘Yeah, some anonymous artists send stuff in for me to sell, but haven’t had that privilege since last year’ you laugh, Jason stepping a little closer to you.

‘Well, if you ever get bored and want to play around with designs, we could use some help with our art books’ Jason suggested as you nodded, eagerly.

‘Same if you want to sell your artwork as more than tattoos’ you wink.

You both left the conversation on a light note as you both realised you should get back to work, but there was a spring in your step. Jason seemed like a genuine person, a genuinely nice guy. You were quite shocked, he looked rough around the edges from afar, but then after talking. He was just like everyone else.

You’d settled really quickly into the swing of everything, selling your art to various types of people.

Some were rich snobs who wanted a painting for their second bathroom, some were newly weds looking for a piece for their first home together. Some just really liked the design and wanted to find a space to hang it up.

You were so caught up in your own mind that you’d neglected that the canvases were running low. Along with work to sell.

You’d set yourself a day aside in the weekend to finish everything, which you would’ve done easily had it not been for the fact that you also ran low on supplies.

‘Hey’ you smiled as you walked into Jason’s tattoo studio, he smiled at you while cleaning up a client.

‘What’s up y/n?’ Jason greeted you kindly, as you walked to the counter.

‘Was wondering if you had any brushes I could borrow?’ You asked, Jason nodded as he pointed to a shelf.

You thanked him as you left the studio, while Jason looked at your form walking away. Which surprised even him, he didn’t register his actions till you had left. His still present client cleared her throat.

‘Sorry, let me just wrap this up’ Jason got back to his work, with you in his mind.

You’d been going at painting for a good few hours now, to the point your hand began to hurt a little. Fingers becoming stiff around the brush.

Wasn’t the best way for you to spend a Saturday afternoon, working out of hours while everyone else was out having fun.

A sudden knock at your door caught your attention, you putting your brush down and walking over to the apartment door.

‘Jason?’ You questioned, he just smiled as he lifted up a bucket.

‘Hey, thought you might want these’ he suggested, you looked inside the bucket to find more brushes.

‘Thank you’ you accepted as you let him inside your apartment, shutting the door behind him.

‘Nice place, wow, that’s beautiful’ Jason said as your painting caught his eye. He admired the design and the colours.

‘Thanks, it’s not finished yet. Still needs to dry a bit before I add somethings to it’ you said, placing the bucket on the counter. Jason turned and looked at you.

You were dressed in an old pair of blue dungarees, with paint all over your hands, arms and a bit on your face.

‘We don’t use brushes anymore, so thought you could have them’ Jason explained as he stepped closer to you.

‘Thanks again, how’d you know where I live by the way?’ You asked, curious as Jason looked to the floor.

‘You listed your address on your studio website, maybe don’t do that in case creeps show up’ Jason laughed, looking back at you.

‘Got it’

You walked over and put away the stuff you were using, putting it out of the way. Closing the pots of paint too.

‘You want a beer?’ You asked Jason, he nodded a little.

You grabbed two cold beers from the fridge and handed one to Jason, while you stopped off at the sink to wash yourself free of the paint on your body.

‘So, how long you been an artist?’ Jason asked as he sat down, sipping his beer.

‘Since I was a kid, my older siblings were more into lovers and fame. I wanted something meaningful’

Jason nodded as he felt he could relate in a way, the self-proclaimed black sheep of his family. Feeling like he had to compete to be taken serious at times.

‘You should sell this stuff to a museum, you’d make a mint’ Jason stared into your eyes, you huffed a little.

‘I’m not that good’ you replied as you walked over to the table where Jason was sitting and began drinking your beer.

‘You are, really’ he insisted, you going a little red in the face as Jason didn’t break eye contact with you.

‘Thank you. So how long you been tattooing?’ You asked Jason, he smiled a little.

‘Since I was about 20, but couldn’t do it professional yet, only opened up the studio about 2 years ago’

Jason took it upon himself to work for the money to open up his studio, he felt it too easy to ask for Daddy to give him money. Bruce would’ve done it, but that’s not the point. Jason wanted to work hard for it, not have it handed to him.

Much like yourself, you could have just asked one of your older siblings to give you a loan or your parents. It just seemed more meaningful to do it by yourself.

‘It’s great work, wish I was brave enough to get one’ you chuckled, Jason smiled brightly.

‘I could do one for you, they really don’t hurt that much’ Jason informed, ‘plus I won’t charge much’ he joked.

‘I’ll keep that in mind’

Jason still caught himself staring at you as you spoke, your handsome face just seemed so inviting to him. He’d been with men before, but he’d never been so captured by someone like you.

‘What are you doing tonight?’ Jason asked you suddenly, you shot an eyebrow up.

‘Nothing, probably working on the next piece’ you answered, Jason sighed at the answer.

‘It’s a weekend, come on get out with friends’

‘I don’t have any, not in Gotham anyway’ you replied, Jason looked a little saddened by your response.

‘I’ll be your friend’ Jason said genuine, making you laugh a little.

‘Sorry, it’s just so cute that you care’

Jason placed his hand on yours as he spoke softly again.

‘I’m serious y/n, why don’t me and you do something?’

You studied Jason’s face as he looked deep in your eyes, his gesture not changing.

‘Ok, you know Gotham better than me, show me the good spots’

And show you he did, Jason took you to all the good places he could. Bars, nightclubs, he took you to eat too. Insisting to pay for the majority of the night as it was his idea. Though you did pay your way of course, you didn’t like the thought of Jason being ‘expected’ to pay for everything.

It was a great afternoon to night out with Jason, you both got to know each other better. You even found out that his adoptive father was Bruce Wayne, which isn’t something Jason brags about.

You invited Jason back to your apartment as he seemed to not want to go home yet, so he came home with you.

‘I have something to show you’ you informed as you walked Jason to the guest bedroom.

Jason looked at the room a little confused as you pointed to the floor, sitting down.

‘Lay on your back’ you urged, Jason doing so a little unsure.

‘Wow’ he gasped a little as he lay on his back, looking up at the ceiling.

It was an art piece of the solar system painted into the ceiling, the sky of the room lit up from the product of glow in the dark paint. Purples, greens, white…it was a design no one had seen.

‘I finished it last week’ you said, Jason looking at you, seemingly in shock.

‘You painted this?’ He asked, shock present in his voice.

You simply nodded as Jason looked back at the rooms sky, mesmerised by it. You could hear the sound of Jason’s calm breathing, watching in the corner of your eye as Jason’s chest lifted up and down.

‘Can I ask you a question?’ Jason came out with, not looking at you as he still looked at the ceiling, you hummed in response.

‘You wanna go out again sometime? Like tonight’ he continued, you smiled brightly.

‘Yeah, I’d like that’ you replied, looking as Jason smiled.

He turned his head to face you as he found you were looking at him, he placed his hand on your face. Pulling you in a little as he greeted your lips with his, after a few seconds of the two of your lips meeting officially, Jason found his tongue inside your mouth. You welcomed it as you did the same.

Jason rolled onto his front with you laying on your back underneath him, still holding each other. Your lips and tongues dancing together in a sweet tango.

‘God, you’re so beautiful’ Jason breathed out as he looked at you. You pulling him in again, wanting his lips on yours.

It was a heated make out session as Jason found his jacket tossed across the room, you then found your hands in his T-shirt as you felt up his torso.

‘Fuck’ you breathed out into the kiss as Jason buried his face into your neck.

You could feel the heat coming from between your legs, as did Jason from between his. It was a perfect moment of passion, a sweet moment to end the night.

The sight of two men in a heated kiss as they slowly discarded their clothes, making a sweet night end with a hot moment. You didn’t even go to your bed, you both remained under the sky of the room, the very room that caught Jason’s attention.

You felt a slight chill up your spine as you woke up, a blanket covering your legs and groin, you found yourself with no clothes on. Laying next to a fast asleep Jason, who was also not wearing any clothes.

You didn’t know if it was morning or not, or how early or late it was. You just knew that it was a great night. Jason felt so good inside you, he was gentle and sweet.

You found your underwear in the corner of the room, where Jason threw it so he could let his mouth work you up. You smiled as you remembered the acts from last night, how good Jason made you feel.

‘Morning beautiful’ Jason smiled as he rolled over, seeing you standing up. Putting on your underwear.

‘Morning, you want some coffee?’ You sat on the floor next to Jason as you kissed his head.

Jason pulled you in for a sweet little kiss, as he held your face. While his free hand held your thigh.

‘I’ll have some please, just wanted to kiss you again’ Jason smiled, you blushed.

Jason drank his coffee while laying in only his underwear in your bed. You cleaning up on some more work.

Jason just looked at you as he admired your form and how you handled your piece, how much passion you had behind everything.

‘I’m hard, you’re making me hard’ Jason said, rubbing his hand through his hair.

‘How am I making you hard?’ You chuckled, Jason placing his empty coffee cup on your bedside table.

‘Come here, you sexy fucker’ Jason gestured with his hand, you smiled as you crawled over to the bed.

Climbing on top of Jason’s lap as you two made out again, you felt Jason’s length against you which caused you to get hard yourself.

‘Fuck’ you gasped, Jason grabbed at the waist of your underwear, pulling it down to expose part of your ass.

It was just as good as last night as you sat on Jason’s hard, friend. Jason’s moans made you so hot. You couldn’t believe the luck you had.

The hot tattoo artist across the street was now naked in your bed. With you.

It wasn’t all about the sex though as Jason felt the urge to take you for a long breakfast date. Well, by now it was more lunchtime.

As weeks went by Jason and you were getting closer and closer, even being the talk of the customers when you’d both run over the street to each other to have a quick kiss and chat.

It was special times with Jason and he made you feel, like you were the only man on earth. You did the same for him.

Though neither of you had said it yet to one another, there was love present in every way.

Simon Riley x Male Reader x Leon Kennedy

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|| Masterlist ||

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Authors note: Here is another twin series shot! More to come soon and thank you for 6.6k followers!! This idea came to mind because Leon is my other husband but in this one so is Simon.

Summary: An old friend and Ex makes an appearance back at reader and simons home town. The twins seem to know him very well and Simon isn’t too fond of the man.

Warnings: Fluff, jealous Simon, menacing twins, past lovers, Leon is a great man, overprotective Simon, twins track down there dad, past memories, catching up, twins are both 15 years old.

Word count: 2.5k

—

—

Y/n was running errands. The twins had begged him to buy snacks after finishing up their last stash and wanting him to stock up. He knew not to argue with his kids, knowing that the will fight back if he declined the idea of getting more snacks.

And so, he had no choice but to get changed and take his car keys and wallet and head to the nearest market. He carried a list of things the twins requested, including Simons small request of wanting something sweet. It always surprised Y/n that someone so deadly and dangerous could have a craving for something so sweet.

He chuckles at the memory of Simon devouring their wedding cake alongside the twins who ate next to him. There wedding wasn’t anything huge, just them three and a witness or two but that was all.

Upon arriving to the store he makes sure to take a cart, going up and down the aisles in case he wishes to get anything else but snacks. He reached the alcohol isle and grins to himself. One drink wouldn’t hurt, right?

He hums softly to himself as he searched the shelves, looking for his own favorite drink. He makes sure to add Simons on the list too in case he wanted a small drink. It takes him a few minutes to find Simons.

“Bourbon…bourbon—Ah!” He mumbled under his breath until he finally finds the bottle, smiling in victory as he takes the bottle in hand, checking to make sure that it was the right one.

“Never thought of you as a bourbon type.”

Y/n furrows his brows, looking up from the bottle to come face to face with an old friend of his.

“Leon?” Y/n stares at him with wide eyes as Leon gives him a faint smile in return. “Y/n.” He says in return, getting a small laugh out of the other.

“What—how—what are you doing here, out of all places?” Y/n finally asks, too in shock to let out a proper question. He couldn’t stop staring at Leon, he’s changed so much. His blonde hair no longer blonde but a dark brunette color and his eyes were brighter. The man aged like fine wine due to his appearance looking the same when he was younger but with hints of maturity and a faint stubble on his face.

Y/n couldn't stop staring at the man standing before him that Leon’s words go through deaf ears.

“—Y/n?”

He’s finally pulled out of his thoughts and blinks his eyes. “I’m sorry, what?” He coughs out, blushing softly as he placed the bottle of alcohol in the cart he had with him.

“I asked if you were alright? You seemed a little out of it.” Said Leon.

“Sorry! It’s Just—It’s been awhile.” He admits with a faint chuckle escaping his lips, trying to focus his attention on anything else but Leon. It wasn’t until the older man eyed his cart and smirks. “Snacks and booze? Having a party or something?”

Y/n flushed and laughs. “Actually the snacks are for the twins, you remember the twins right?” He’s quick to ask, disregarding Leon’s second question. “How can I forget the twins, I remember when they first started school. Is Briar still causing you trouble?”

Y/n groans at the mention of his troublesome daughter. “Always.” He answers, taking the end of the cart in hand and pulling it behind him as he walks down the aisle, alongside Leon as the two did some shopping together. “Briar and Ren are fifteen.” He blurts out, getting a surprise look from Leon who scoffs.

“No way, I remember them being kids. Has it really been that long?”

Y/n nods his head. “Time goes by fast.” He states, warning a chuckle from Leon as the two approach the register, standing in line to check out their items. Y/n had looked into Leon’s basket, raising a brow at the amount of alcohol bottles he has.

“Is that all your getting?” He points out, causing leon to chuckle nervously. “Yeah…”

Y/n hums and decides to keep quiet, turning his attention back to his one items and makes sure that he got everything for the twins and Simon. The thought of missing anything could get him into trouble, the last time he forgot something he got a dramatic Briar and a whinny Ren to deal with until he finally got them their favorites snacks.

It wasn’t until he stepped up to the registrar to finally get his things scanned and paid for that Leon calls out his name before he exits the store.

“I was wondering if you wanted to get some dinner? That’s if your not busy.” Leon quickly says, getting Y/n’s attention who stared at Leon with wide eyes.

He knows that he shouldn’t accept the dinner date he already had plans to cook dinner for his kids and husband, but it’s been years since he’s last seen Leon. His friend his first partner, they were simply catching up what could go wrong?

“Sure.”

—

“He’s taking forever.” Ren groans into the couch pillow, lying on his stomach as he continues to whine while Briar paced the room at a slow pace. She would glance out the window in hopes of her seeing Y/n’s return only to find nothing. Then she would look at the clock hanging on the wall.

“It’s been more than 30 minutes.” She mumbled.

“Be patient.” Simon finally speaks up from the couch, sitting on the far end next to Ren while the teen sulks into the pillows. “He told you two that you shouldn’t be eating too many snacks, perhaps this is his way of punishing you both and making you wait.”

Brair frowns at Simons words, doubting them. She knew her father well enough and she knew that area she lived in. The nearest grocery store was fifteen minutes away, she knew that her own father was someone who goes in to get what he needs and is out in seconds. He never took his time to check everything unless he had a long list of groceries to get.

“Something’s not right.” Briar finally says, getting Ren and Simons attention. “The store is close and he should have been back a few minutes ago.”

“Traffic?” Ren says with a shrug.

“No…” Briar tries to think over reasons as to why her father wasn’t home yet. Simon knew that she was overthinking the situation and comes to a stand, making his way over to the teen and placing a gentle hand on the top of her head. “Easy kid, Y/n will be back soon and if anything happened to him we would know.” Simon tried to reassure Briar but can still see the worry in her eyes.

Simon sighs. “How about we drive by to see if his car is still at the store?” Simons idea gets Briars attention, lightening Briar as she nods frantically.

“Go get your shoes. Both of you.” Simons instructs the twins as they quickly move to get some shoes on while Simon gets the keys to his own car, waiting outside for the twins as they rushed out of the house and into his car.

“Come on! Hurry up!” Briar exclaimed, getting an eye roll from Simon. “We are only doing a drive by, that is all.” He reminds the twins as he gets the car started and driving then towards the nearest store. Briar is bouncing on her seat, staring up ahead in hopes of seeing anything that could be causing her fathers delay while Ren sat in the back seat staring out the window.

It wasn’t until they stop at a red light that Ren speaks up. “Holy shit.”

“Language.” Said Simon while Briar turns around in her seat to face Ren. “What?” She takes notice of Ren staring out the window with wide eyes, frowning. “What are you looking at?” She finally turns to her own window, looking in the direction her brother was staring only to spot her father eating outside a fast food with another man. The two laughing together without a care.

Briars mouth is open in shock. Rens eyes are wide and Simon. Oh, Simon wasn’t someone who easily got jealous but the grip on the steering wheel caused his knuckles to go white, clearly upset about the situation but not saying anything about it. Before the twins could say anything the street light turns green, Simon hits the gas and drives off.

The twins sit in silence while Simon finds a longer way back home. The tension in the car gets the twins uncomfortable, feeling Simons anger and jealous radiate off his body. The twins felt like kids again who got yelled at for doing something wrong, getting their father really angry to the point where the car rides were full of silence and only tension. Even though the twins knew they weren’t in trouble they can’t help but feel like they were.

When they finally get home the twins both glance at each other, communicating in silence. Ren is the first to break the tension. “Maybe it’s a friend?” His voice is soft.

“Or he’s cheating.” Briar blurts out, blunt and honest.

Ren smacks her shoulder, glaring at his sister who glared back. “I’m only being honest,” She hissed out, rubbing her shoulder.

Simon is sitting in silence, listening to the kids bickering but is quick to shut them out. Simon wasn’t someone to get upset over stuff like this, he trusted Y/n. He married him, he wouldn’t throw everything away for someone else. Even though Simon and Y/n have been married for a few years he knows his partner well enough to communicate with him regarding anything and so far things have been going well.

Y/n would tell Simon everything that happens at work, let out his frustrations when he’s dealing with something hard. He tells Simon how he feels about curtain stuff without being afraid or embarrassed about it.

Simon couldn't say he was the same. He struggled at first when it comes towards talking about his feelings. He always kept everything bottled up. After Y/n came into his life he slowly started to learn.

“He’s not cheating.” He finally speaks up, startling the twins with his deep voice. “Y/n wouldn’t do that.” Simon adds, turning towards the twins and giving them a reassuring smile.

“Come on, let’s wait inside.”

His last words get the twins moving, jumping out of the car and rushing inside, jumping on the couch and fighting over the remote while Simon tossed his eyes on the coffee table and plops down between the twins, taking the remote from the two and deciding what to watch, getting a look of disbelief from the twins.

It wasn’t until an hour later that Y/n finally gets home, stumbling inside the house with bags in hand and sighing deeply. “I’m back!” He calls out, kicking the door shut.

He raises a brow in confusion when he doesn’t hear a greeting back. The twins usually come running to him when he comes back from the store but no one comes to him. “Kids?” He calls out, walking further into the house. “Simon?” He approached the living room where he finds both Briar and Ren, sitting side by side with arms crossed while narrowing their eyes.

“Uh, I’m back?” Y/n says again a bit concerned by the twins attitude as they watched him.

“You’re late.” Said Ren.

“Yeah, thats because I was getting your snacks.” Said Y/n as he walks over to the kitchen, to set the bag of snacks on the counter, taking it out of the bag. “Getting snacks should only take a few minutes you were gone for an hour.” Briar says this time, getting off the couch and walking to the kitchen, following her dad around as he puts the snacks away.

“So? I was taking my time.” Y/n shrugs his shoulders. The twins are slowly getting irritated and it’s Ren who blurts out the question they really wanted to know the answer too. “Are you going to divorce Simon?”

Y/n’s eyes widen, whipping his head to face the twins properly. “What—? What makes you think that?!”

“We saw you…you were having dinner with some guy and you seemed pretty happy.” Said Briar, shrugging a shoulder as she lowers her gaze. Briar could be loud and blunt but the subject of Y/n and Simon possibly divorcing set her into a panic where she shuts down, closing up and becoming afraid.

Y/n had noticed this when raising the twins on his own before Simon came into the picture. He’s quick to shake his head, approaching the twins and pulling them into hugs. “God no—I could never leave Simon and I would never ask for a divorce, do you know how long it took me to finally find someone who actually cares for me and you two? Because I’m not throwing that away.” He shakes his head.

Ren lifts up his head from Y/n chest. “Then who was the guy you were having dinner with?”

Y/n lets out a soft chuckle. “He’s—well, he was an ex of mine but, what we had back then wasn’t serious it only lasted a few weeks before we decided to remain friends. I haven’t seen him in years and I was simply catching up, nothing else.” He explains to the twins.

“You guys met him once!”

“We did?” The twins said in unison, confusion written on their faces as Y/n rolls his eyes. “Yeah, when you were seven years old. His name is Leon Kennedy? Tall blonde hair, blue eyes—?”

Briar is the first to gasp, pulling away from her dad. “The really hot cop?!”

“He’s in his thirties and not a cop anymore.”

“But he’s still hot?” Briar questions with a mischievous grin on her face while wiggling her brows. Y/n sighs deeply, knowing that his daughter was going to force him to admit that Leon was still good looking.

“Yes, he’s still attractive but, I love Simon more. He’s—“ Y/n looks up from the twins to see Simon standing near the stairway, leaning against the wall as he grins. Clearly the man had heard everything, listening into their conversation as Y/n gives off a soft smile before looking back at the twins. “Simon has the muscles and strong—God, the way his hands wrap around—“

“Ah! Stop no more!” Ren shouts, covering his ears as Briar faked a gag, looking at her dad in disgust. “No details!” She shouted too. The twins growing dramatic while Simon approached the twins and Y/n, smiling at his husband as he wraps an arm around his waist and pulls him into a deep kiss, Y/n wrapping his arms around his neck as he deepens it.

The twins scream in horror at the sight of their parents making out, running out of the kitchen and upstairs. “Get a room!” Ren shouted, causing the two to break apart from the kiss and laugh.

“Oh, we have one.” Y/n smirks at Simon.

jump in the line | wally clark x male!reader

a/n — i know i said this was coming ‘soon’ but it was longer than anticipated- reader is AMAB but i don’t believe pronouns are used to address them

words — 5.4k

summary — With summer break hit, the school feels empty and painfully boring. Luckily, there is a jock in the gym with a good distraction from the boredom.

warnings — smut, 18+ as usual, fingering, top!Wally Clark, bottom!reader, anal sex, ghosts wrapping before tapping

~~~

Wally had two problems—the rain and his loneliness. The rain kept everyone indoors as they didn’t want to come back inside, soaked and inconvenienced by the limited appealing clothing around the school. So a day was made out of it to give everyone a new challenge: find something fun to do inside. The limit was the sky, if you counted that as being the fiberglass tiles on the ceiling. His loneliness came from what he decided to do: shoot hoops in the gymnasium. The other spirits bided their time with more sedentary activities like watching the summer production crew work to cobble together a half-decent school musical for the fall or revisit the library to read the one new book added to the ancient collection, but Wally just couldn’t keep himself still and isolated himself to shoot baskets.

Today was your first rainy day at Split River High in your new life as a ghost. Only a mere seventeen days in and you already felt perfectly capable of being a ghost for the rest of your death because of one fun sentiment—being bored at high school, something that came naturally in a place like this. Charlie claimed that it was better than feeling regretful or upset about it since those feelings only reinforced the fact that you were bound to your roots forever. There was no way to put the school in the past or leave home, no risks to take or life to fail at pursuing. He talked you through the whole spiel, and you had no choice but to listen or fight against the laws of the afterlife. One seemed impossible.

After sitting through everything he had gathered from his time as a ghost, you told him your story. You died in the agricultural room, checking up on the baby chicks during a free period between classes when the wire powering their heat lamp caught fire. The door became blocked by the flames and the windows in the room only opened so far enough to get the chicks out, but they were far too slim of an opening to fit yourself through. It worked well to air out the smoke, but the heat is what caused you to collapse. You never saw your body in the aftermath, only hearing talk of how gruesome it looked as a few cops assessed the scene.

With the Ag-Room shut down until further notice, you were left to wander the hallways without any direction. Though, one sound rang in your ear—the sound of a basketball and squeaking shoes. Now Wally had three problems when he heard the door to the gymnasium open.

As you entered, you looked around at a place you hadn’t seen since before you died. The bleachers stayed inanimate and lacked the community’s spirit for that final game of the season, not being used by anything alive to warrant them looking less depressingly empty. It looked like the same gym you had taken classes in for the past nearly four years, but the jock made it feel new and different. He was a hidden detail among the same people, chalkboards, and desks you spent your entire school life staring at. You approached him, watching the gymnasium become a chamber for his skill to bounce off of. Every time the basketball struck the floor he added just a little more to his established skill set.

“Hey,” you spoke. He caught the ball as it bounced off of the backboard and towards him. The echo in the spacious room sounded the same, but his voice was in your ear.

“Hey, I was practicing my free-throw, but I’ll make room for another person,” he offered. He turned to face you, “And you’re the Fire-Kid, right?”

“Guilty,” you admitted. “I didn’t know I had a nick-name already.”

“It’s unofficial, we can totally change it. There’s a few I thought about—hottie, maybe? Actually, never—never mind. That made more sense when I was thinking it over.” He took a deep breath and extended his hand that wasn’t holding the ball. “Wally.”

“I know,” you said, taking him up on the handshake and giving him your name. His combination of impossibly short athletic shorts, a tank top with the same material as a sweatshirt, and Nike’s paired with socks reaching far up along his shins was almost a dead giveaway that he was from another time, but the name didn’t help much either as you knew it from the stadium outside. Wally pulled his hand back and moved the ball around in his hands like it was an extension of himself—he knew exactly how to hold and manipulate it for his own desire.

“You like animals, huh? Well, I know a little game called ‘horse,’ unless you’re too chicken,” he smirked.

You two approached one of the nets hanging at one end of the gym, “It’s not like I’m doing anything, just remind me of the rules?”

“Okay, so basically, one person shoots from wherever they want, and the other person has to replicate it. If the first person misses the shot, then the second guy can shoot wherever they want. Then, it flips until one person wins.”

“How do you win?”

“Shit, right. If you miss a shot, whether you're the first or second person, you get a letter, usually it goes until it spells out ‘horse.’”

“Okay, I think I get it,” you affirmed.

“Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. I’ll teach you as we go.”

It all made sense, given that your last gym class was only months ago at the end of the semester and you had played it then. There was one, and only one, thing that burned in your mind: “What about the loser? Is a letter the only penalty?”

“Let’s make it a little fun,” Wally proposed. You nodded. “Okay, so, every letter earned means the other dude gets to ask a question. It’ll help me come up with a better nick-name, so, the more embarrassing stories you share, the better. I’ll go first.”

“That’s unfair, I’m new to this and pretty much everything else.”

“You’re just mad that I won’t miss,” Wally dribbled the ball as he went some ways away from the net, a distance that you knew you couldn’t match.

“Wally,” you hissed. He kept backing away from the net. “Wally, that’s too far!”

“Nah, I’m just kidding.” He ran up closer to the net and made a shot. As expected by his almost professional and clean form, it sank past the net and smacked against the floor. He retrieved it and passed the ball to you, “Your turn.”

Taking the ball from him, you stood in the same spot he was at—at about the two-point line, judging by the markings on the floor—and hit the ball a few times against the floor to refresh yourself with its feel. The bumps on the ball felt the same as when you had a basketball unit and had acquainted your fingertips with the same rough edge for a whole week. Wasting no more time, you took a leap of faith into the air. Expectedly, the ball hit the rim of the net and bounced off toward Wally. That’s just how your luck had been recently, so you weren’t phased by almost making it in. He caught the ball as it ricocheted toward him.

He clapped at your failure, “And that’s H. Four more to go and I win.”

“Five more to go, and I win.”

“Okay, I like your optimism. But question-time! What did you do… after school?“ It sounded weird for him to talk about it in the past, since only seventeen days ago you would have been talking about future plans.

“The usual: sleep, a lot, and bury myself in homework,” you said as if you would be able to do either again. Could ghosts even sleep? Or was it all feigned for a twinge of normalcy? You would have to ask Wally if you managed to score anything against him.

He still had the ball in his hands, tossing it to you. “Cool, cool. What subject was your favorite?”

“Hey, one question only,” you reminded him.

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours? Sorry, I meant—you know. Since I doubt we can go to the ag-room, and because I didn’t mean—yeah.” He looked nervous at his slip-up. It felt like he was overcompensating to hide something else, something with a little more weight than simply a poor choice of words.

“It’s fine,” you assured. Passing the ball to each hand as the conversation went on, your mind wandered until it came up with the most obvious choice. “Let me guess, gym?”

“Nah, history. But I liked all of them,” Wally crossed his arms now that the ball was no longer in his possession.

“Really? You weren’t laser-focused on football?”

He patted your shoulder, “Save that for when you make it in.”

As it would turn out, you did not make a single attempted shot for the next two turns and had to suffer through two more of Wally’s questions. The first time you missed, he asked: “What’s your favorite food?”

“That’s tough. I think I’m gonna say all of the above. Anything that isn’t cafeteria food sounds great right about now. What about you? Got any I-could-live-off-this-forever go-to?”

“Hotdogs, for sure.”

“Why?” This was the first time he didn’t protest a follow-up question and gave you a completely serious answer.

“Uh, well, me and my parents used to go up to my uncle’s apartment near the Camp Randall Stadium. The building was so tall that you didn’t even need seats to watch the game, so we would all sit up on the roof and look down into the stadium whenever the Badgers were playing. They usually had a grill set up so we didn’t have to walk down so many stairs, and that’s where it started.”

“What? Your love for football?”

Wally’s tone leveled out. He wasn’t telling a story anymore, he was recalling a memory, “No, it wasn’t about the field or the game, it was about the people around me. I didn’t really like watching the game, but it was something for us to do as a family. Plus the hotdogs were pretty great.”

After that, Wally seemed to be distracted by something but still managed to make another shot. You, however, couldn’t say the same. It pitifully bounced off the backboard and towards the stacked bleachers.

He snarkily asked while heading to retrieve the ball, “What do you think your chances are of winning?”

This time, you were the one to cross your arms, “That’s what you’re going to waste your question on?”

“I still have two more,” he stated. On his way towards you, he ran a hand through his hair, “We could always play pig, if you’re ready to see the hog.”

“Go for it, unleash the beast,” you encouraged and then, feigned, “I’m so scared.”

“You would’ve lost that one already, so maybe it’s good that we didn’t.”

After accruing three letters in a row without ending Wally’s streak, you finally made a shot from his determined distance. He gained a letter to his name, and you got a ticket to pick at his brain.

“Yeah, finally!” He cheered, coming up behind you and lightly smacking your ass. He sounded sincere, “Good job.”

“I got a good one!”

“Shoot.”

“What do you miss most from your house? If you had to pick anything for them to bring here so that you could use it, what would it be?”

“My homemade fleshlight and maybe my porno mags,” he vacillated. “I got all the quality material right here, though.”

“I’m serious!” You reacted before you could even process his comment. Even if he really thought of you like that, it would have had to be a joke.

“Fine, uh. My medals for all of this stupid shit.” He waved his one arm around to the various sports banners with the graduating classes' athletes front and center, along with several other banners and pennants hanging around that showcased the victories of the Devils and Bandits. Besides his name on the stadium, Wally’s name had been embroidered in a deep blue pennant hanging on the wall he stood facing away from. “It would make it feel like it was worth it a little more, you know?”

You sighed and looked at him with a certain understanding that some of the other students didn’t get. He could see it, and you could see him listening intently as you spoke as if he truly cared, “I do. I have a few F-F-A related things at home that I wish I could see now. My medals, my jacket for being in the after-school club, pictures of me and my friends, all of it. I wish it was here.”

“You can always borrow mine. Think of it as the honorary symbol for being stuck here with me and all of the others.” At that moment, an image popped into Wally’s mind that he could have captured in crystal-clear quality with a Polaroid. If only he had brought that to school on his last day. It was of you, with his jacket on and nothing else, grinding up against his leg—maybe rocking back and forth on the toe of his Nike’s or better yet, on his thigh. He would take that picture without hesitation and make it your first official memory at Split River. Now, his fourth problem had arrived in his blue shorts.

“Thanks.” You saw his eyes flick up from the ground to you. The effect of his gratitude lasted mere seconds as the ball came your way and vie sensations of winning reminded you as to who the jock was: your competitor. By some stroke of luck—or maybe a twinge of skill had finally come over you—you were able to make the ball into the basket twice and upstage the jock for a few moments. You got to ask your questions, but he was too busy congratulating you.

“Holy shit,” he marveled. “I know they said you went out hot, but damn! I didn’t think you had that fire in you!”

“Good to know I’m more than detritus.” You tried not to brag or even smile at the fact, just accept that you had him beat with a tied competition.

“Sorry, bad joke?”

“No, I just realized that we both have two letters left.”

“It won’t be that way for long.” Plopping himself onto the floor, he sat with the ball in his lap and his legs crossed to keep it from rolling away. “Quiz me!”

Mirroring him, you sat in the same style with your knees almost touching, “Okay, ever date anyone in high school—uh, here?”

“Nope, but it did allow me and my right hand to get to know each other pretty well. We even introduced lotion later on into the relationship.”

You let out a quick laugh, “Classy, Wally.”

“There was one chick, actually.” He didn’t look away when he said it, locking his soft brown eyes on yours.

You looked back at him, engaged, “Who?”

“That’s your fourth question.”

“Why didn’t you say it when I asked?”

He started to trace patterns over his thighs, breaking the contact your eyes held while he talked about the mysterious girl, “We never really dated or even touched each-other—it was right before the game that we even kissed.”

“Oh.” Oh, it was all you could say.

“I tried to move on from her, and it kind of worked. It took a while, but you’re here.” Wally looked back up again, lifting his whole head to do so.

You stood, “I think it’s my turn.”

“Right, sorry. Too T-M-I?” He tossed the ball up to you. You shook your head and walked over to take your shot.

Standing a decent distance away from the net, you tried to make it attainable for you to make a shot, and a little difficult for the athlete to replicate it. Since your skill was unmatched by his, it didn’t seem like there was a good place that would be hard for him to make it in.

Wally followed and pressed himself into you from behind, and went so far as to make himself level with your ear, “Don’t miss.”

He backed away from you to offer a fighting chance against him, and you took your final shot of the game. The ball veered off to the right with your throw, and he ran to intercept the shot before it hit the ground. He sweeps it up from the floor and jumps in the air to pass it under his leg and make a shot around the basket. It flows into the net, and Wally lets the victory get to his head.

“And in the match point. . . Clark makes the score!” He jumped around the court with sanguine behavior, everything else—mostly, his necklace—following with him up and down. The ball bounced off to some corner of the room since he didn’t bother to fetch it. “That tie had me worried.”

You approached him once he started to calm down, “Question?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you gonna give it to me?”

“I can, if you want,” he smirked.

“I do.”

“Uh, well.” He placed his hands on his hips, raising one almost immediately after to toy with and twist his necklace, “What’s something you’ve never tried before?”

“I never tried you.” What does he taste like? What does he smell like? “Or sex as a ghost.” What does he feel like? “Or any kind of sex in general.”

“Me neither.” Those two short words filled the small space between your lips. There was still a longing inside of Wally that competition couldn’t beat, as even now, he felt almost no difference towards it. He pulled you in for a kiss, and suddenly, it was gone. He had the confidence—the will—to lead you up to the heightened set of wooden bleachers. Wally guided you by hand, the texture still being rough and imperfect from his blazing glory night, and insisted that you close your eyes.

“I’ve been up here a million times, there’s no need for the show,” you protested.

He sat you down on a random line of benches and continued his antics, ignoring your complaints since he didn’t have anything smart to say back. The wooden planks creating the jagged pattern to form the bleachers were hard and unforgiving with little leeway for a task as delicately chaotic as fucking. Wally somehow made the imperfections surrounding your work, by keeping you spread across one bench while laying on your back. His necklace dangled so close to you that it almost turned to sandalwood oil from the heat. He smelled similarly of the same scent, rich in a tangled aromatic scent of sweat and sweet sandalwood.

All of the new things he got to try were a silver lining along the dark clouds outside. His hands roamed unclaimed places on your body, cupping things that deserved to be fondled and handling things with extra care that didn’t excite your body as much as you expected. Chills from his work never came, and you remained the same cold soul as before. The same could be said for his lip prints, marking your own pair, then moving to the side of your cheek and down your jaw with a softness only seen in the blurry images of a fantasy. Wally kissed like he was kissing for someone else, and not for himself, giving more than he took. He didn’t take skin between his teeth for a hickey but left it impacted with a feeling soaring straight up from his heart. It’s not like a hickey would have lasted long as a ghost, anyways.

“You’re cold,” he said as he leaned down to kiss your neck again.

Wally finished kissing your body seconds later and sat up at the foot-end of where you laid. You tried to spread your legs, letting one dangle off to the next row and bringing the other one closer to give him room between you, but he kept himself situated. He fished for something in the pocket of his insanely small athletic shorts, finding it hard to search through bunched-up fabric that exposed most of his thighs.

You waited for instructions, and as if he could immediately tell, Wally spoke. “Just. . . lay back and finger yourself.”

“Is mind-reading part of the ghost-experience?” You teased.

“Just do it.”

“Okay,” you listen, pulling down the bottoms you died in and the underwear that went with it. Wally tried not to steal a glance as he occupied himself, but couldn’t help it. His jaw goes slack for a moment as he sees you—natural and perfect. He assumed that he would have to put himself on the same playing field, and suspended his search for a little bit to stand up. He shimmied down the deep blue and vibrant white of the school colors to just reveal a combination of pasty skin and dark hair surrounding his cock. He reached down to continue his search. Finally, he pulled a condom from his pocket. “I’m going to try putting this on, if it fits.”

“Where did you even get those?” You hadn’t started preparing yourself for the dead jock, letting his interesting train of thought make you invested in his issues.

“Nurse’s office.” He holds out the packaging for you to look over—it’s a neon purple with different shapes in yellow, reminiscent of the eighties and perfect for the man before you. The size on the wrapper read that it was a bland XL on the cover in white. ”Can you believe they didn’t start handing these out until the nineties?”

Wally stuck the corner between his teeth and pulled, causing the wrapper to tear in two and the condom landed in his hand. He pinched the stuck-out tip of the latex in the center of the disk and pinched the rubber ring. The head of his cock passed the loop successfully but failed to actually get it down his length. In an attempt to make it slide down his cock, he tugged on the rubber band around the opening.

“That’s not how you—here.” You sat upright and your hands fly down to help him. Taking him into your hand, you hold him near the base and wrap your thumb and index finger around a part of his head over the condom’s band. Keeping your fingers around his girth, you slid them down, jerked them back up, and repeated the motion until a thin layer of latex covered most of his dick, reaching just shy of his base. “You keep rolling it down like that until it gets to the bottom. It should be tight with a little bit of give so you can slip it off after.”

Wally wraps his hand around the new layer of latex and marvels at the feeling. “Thanks for the sex-ed lesson, coach.”

“Didn’t they ever teach you that?” You asked, reflecting back on how even now, the school never really prioritized giving kids safe sex lessons. Most of the lessons were about getting any diseases, and what to do when you know you have it. It was all focused on the if’s and never the when’s.

“Nah, it was basically ‘don’t have sex or die.’ Glad I got to do the second one first and the first one now,” he smiled.

His explanation left you puzzled. Safe sex was such a priority during life but became meaningless after death. “Why even bother wearing a condom?”

“I don’t know. Why do we still eat?” He leaned in closer to you, hesitant to loudly state the actions taking place, “Why are we about to. . .”

Normalcy, that must have been what he was trying to get at. “Fair point.”

“I guess I should return the favor?” His hand finds your shoulder at a higher level than preferred and pushed it back until you are entirely laid into the unforgiving benches. They don’t quite capture your width, your shoulders peeking over the edges with legs spread out and dangling over either side, but Wally doesn’t let it stop him from motioning closer to you. Thigh cupped, he lifts a single leg to access your hole easier.

The width of his hand not holding your thigh is felt running along your crack, something that had him hooked as he searched for an opening. His longest finger found it in seconds, and quickly, he lowered the hand wrapped around your thigh to claw at your cheek, tearing it to the side for a deeper presence. Wally sunk a three-pointer’s worth of his finger into your hole, his middle finger up to his knuckle as the rest of his hand held him back. His finger beckoned a moan by raking it up and towards your prostate, then by pulling it in and out and twisting his whole arm to feel the game-night roughened texture of his finger carry on a longing from the night he died. Wally followed the string of motions a few more times until your reactions faded.

“Does that feel good?” He asked, looking for a satisfied answer.

“First time trying it, should. . .” You exhale, “. . . should it feel like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like, just do it again.”

Wally pushed his lengthy digit back in, raising it to the sensitive area, and pressing the pad of his finger to it. He kept it there for a few moments before pulling his hand away, taking his finger with it, and motioning back in less than a second later. His thumb brushes over the valley between your cheeks periodically, and you can’t help but shudder at his touch.

“Are you. . . ready?” The pause his question took made him come off as unsure, and the look he gave you—a quick glance from your eyes back to your ass, where he continued his maneuvers—reinforced it. He thought that he may have done too much, or not done enough, or even found himself on a mediocre middle ground, painfully stuck between the end zones of backing out and finishing the job. To his surprise, he managed to run the one-hundred and twenty yards, because you said yes.

Almost immediately, two hands wrapped around your ankles, and raised your legs with them, exposing your ass without the need for his help. Eventually, they found themselves dangling over his shoulders instead of either side of the bench, and he occupied the space that they restricted him from.

He positioned himself at your entrance, the protective latex coating around his tip greeted you with the feeling of a smooth, somewhat slick surface. Further up, he caught a glimpse of your hesitant demeanor. You couldn’t lie to yourself, or try to hide and play pretend. In the years when he could age, he was given some stunning accolades in categories other than sports. On the surface, a winning smile and eyes that cast a special spotlight on anyone lucky enough to find themselves under him, and down below, a horse cock. Tamed for the moment, but waiting for the paddock to open.

“Just try, uh, try to take it all.” He winced at his own words and let a sarcastic “sorry” slip from his lips.

A sudden pain rapidly stemmed from his entry—one from the depths of your subconscious knowing that the feeling is new and likely dangerously addictive, and the other coming from the actual source as his size stretches you out much more than a finger’s width. His skin is rough on yours when he settled in, but there was one thing that surprised you as he bottoms out with little left to give. With his hips pressed against yours, you took a sharp breath in.

“You good?” He asked, drawing his touch back. Wally fights to place a hand on you, keeping them hovered over your figure for a sense of distanced reassurance.

“You’re cold,” you spat out.

“I’m used to hearing the opposite.”

“And you’re big.” It came out sounding like a single word.

Wally looked relieved, using the opportunity to get into the rhythm of making jokes, “Yeah, I’m used to hearing that.”

You try to laugh through some of the pain. “No you’re not.”

“I’m not,” he admitted with a stupid smile on his face. His voice was hoarse once his hands started to creep over you.

His hands held on to your figure, those words of his distracting you from the pain of his first movement. Just as his charm had worked its way back into the atmosphere surrounding you, his desire to fuck had also found its way in. And that’s exactly what he did. His stance stayed relatively the same—Nike blazers stuck in place and used them to pivot forward, thrusting himself more into you than he already was. His hips melded to supple ass-fat. As he slipped into a tempo with swaying hips, he heard the smacking that came from the quick collision of your ass and him. It sounded like the percussion beat supporting the ensemble of moans falling from his mouth.

Wally’s motions caused you to rock back and forth along the bench, shifting on the smooth plank. His routine shortens to quick plap, plap, plaps against you, unlike the longer blows he had given you moments prior. His breathing stepped up into larger huffs and draws of breath that pierced the air.

There was one thing you noticed about Wally while the room was only filled with those noises. He acts like he’s almost at a loss for words—unusually quiet when the notions of sex finally kick in, feelings and all. Wally’s communication during it centered around noises and acts over his verbal personality. He grunts and barely speaks, crying words and praises with abandon midway through. He took a hand from your love handles to run it through his hair, and then it fell on your leg. His hand was warm—almost slick—from the heat building around the both of you.

Your gaze floated from his hand falling on the leg going over his shoulder to his face; he looked like he was breaking a sweat. He noticed you looking at him directly, and his soft eyes looked animalistic as he doubled over you. He brought your legs closer to your chest, curling you in on yourself. He got so close that you could feel his breath ruminating against your skin.

“Am I—” he breathes, “—still cold?”

His breath isn’t and his skin almost looked like it was glowing, like he could be alive. You shake your head in response, the bundles and knots of pleasure in your stomach making it hard for a few words to come out.

With his new leverage, he fucked you harder, pressing as deep as he could go. His face contorted and stretched without the worry of wrinkles when he became overcome with pleasure.

Wally came, pressing himself into you one final time as his release sprayed all over the inside of his condom. Drops of release splatter over your torso in brief, irregular spurts. They seem to disappear seconds later, leaving no trace of anything that had happened. When Wally pulled himself out of you, you could feel the friction and intimacy quickly vanish. His dick still looked hard, but there was no aftermath. No trace of anything that had happened. His condom wasn’t filled or stretched out at the tip with a pool of come; it was as if he never fucked you. But you still retained the memory and the experience.

Even your own fatigue from being on the receiving end of his pounding lasted mere minutes. Still, you leaned your head back and turned to peer around the gym, taking a breather. The balls hanging around in nooks and corners of the room returned to the carts that they had never left, and everything was back in its original place on the unaltered, metaphysical level. The other spirits could never know, and they would never know, thanks to the universe's ways.

Wally took note of you looking around the gym, “You know, I think that next time, we should be a lot messier. Wouldn’t be our problem to clean, would it?”

A little reminder

Pairing: Portgas D. Ace x [male, amab] Reader Words: ~ 3 200 Summary: Do you need a reminder about who you belong to? Ace is glad to help. Tags: Jealous Ace / Rough / Oral / Chest fixation / Bruises

Requested by anon [Ace and male reader (rough and possessive smut please) Ace gets jealous of someone near Y/n and decides to take him away and show him that Y/n’s his and his alone.]

MASTERLIST

          “And that’s how we got the ship.” Usopp grinned as he crossed his arms and leaned back against the mast. “We are a very skilled crew, but we wouldn’t make it if it weren’t for me!” He laughed, a hand on his hip and the other pointing to himself. “The great—”

“Would you like a drink, (y/n)-san?” Sanji stepped in front of you out of sudden, hence you needed to blink a couple of times until you focused on the glasses on the tray in front of you, not even noticing how Usopp complained at Sanji for stealing the spotlight. “It’s a warm day! You gotta keep yourself hydrated! I bet you and Ace don’t even have the time to settle down properly since you’re always rushing around! Both of you need to make sure you eat properly!”

“Thanks!” You grinned, taking one of the cold glasses in hand. “And don’t worry, Sanji! We make sure to eat enough! And you can bet that Ace and I will eat a lot of your food while we are here!” You winked at him and took a sip of the drink, humming at the fruity, sweet taste of the drink. “This is so great, Sanji! I missed your food, to be honest! It’s been a long while since we met in Alabasta, isn’t it!”

Two years ago, Ace told you his brother had been heading to the same place as the two of you3, which made you excited to meet him. Turns out you met not just Luffy, but all of the Straw Hats and the adventure across the desert of Alabasta was interesting, despite you and Ace finding out you’d followed false tips.

Later, the two of you met again in The War of The Best, but the rest of the crew wasn’t there, so it was nice to be there now with all of them once again. The weather was warm and the sky had a few clouds on it so the sun wasn’t unbearable, hence you dismissed the use of a shirt just like Ace, and also making it the perfect weather to hang out on Sunny’s deck with the Straw Hats. Ace was off with Zoro and Luffy while Sanji, Nami, Chopper and Brook had your attention at the moment.

Sanji grinned, letting Chopper and Nami take the drinks that remained on the tray before he tucked it under his arm. “It indeed is! And don’t worry, I will make sure to prepare a delicious dinner tonight! Also, don’t forget to let me know when you are leaving so I can pack you some meals, okay?”

“Really?” You gasped as you looked at him then grinned more with a nod. “That’s very sweet!”

Sanji’s eyes lightened up. “No worries! It’s a pleasure to—”

“Sorry to interrupt!” Ace’s voice cut him off and you looked up to see him behind you, resting his hands on your shoulders. “I might have to steal (y/n) away for a while! I gotta discuss a few things with my pretty boyfriend!” He laughed and, despite the way the others reacted—Nami and Chopper finding it adorable while Sanji raised his eyebrows a little—, you could notice the forced tinge in Ace’s chuckle and the urgency as he made you stand up. Ace still had that weird expression on his face as he guided you off to the side of the ship until he just pulled you inside a random room with him.

“Ace?” You sighed with a frown. “What’s all of this about, love? I—”

“(Y/n)...” He exhaled sharply and looked away, but you just rolled your eyes and kept sipping on your drink.

“Storage room?” You raised an eyebrow and sipped on your drink again, looking around. There were only wooden boxes, spare wood, barrels, shelves—

Ace had his hands on his hips, blinking slowly as he looked at you with that smirk that didn’t extend itself to his bored eyes. A scoff escaped his lips as he shook his head and took the drink away from your hand, putting it on a shelf before he could step closer.

“Y’know, I wonder if I’m not imposing enough or something.” He placed his hands on your hips, eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed. “They keep treating you like that. Mainly Sanji. Don’t they know you’re mine?” He clicked his tongue, gently pushing you to take steps back until you could feel the cold wood of the wall meet your back.

“You know it’s not like that, Ace...” You whispered, trying to make some sort of comforting tone as you placed your hands on his freckled shoulders; his skin was warm from standing in the sun. “We are great friends, and it’s been a long while since we saw them!”

Ace raises an eyebrow, twisting his mouth. “Yeah, yeah. Know who else were great friends? Mhm, that’s right! You and I!”

You scoffed, chuckling. “It’s not like that and you know it!”

A scowl was on Ace’s face as he looked at you, dark eyes and low eyebrows. He decided against arguing and pressed his lips firmly to yours instead, not caring if your teeth grazed together or if you struggled to keep up with the rhythm he imposed, sinking your nails into his shoulders at the surprise, because all that mattered was the fact he was touching you right now.

The kiss left you breathless, panting for air as he started to mouth at your neck, nibbling and pressing close in a way you struggled to keep the gasps from escaping from your lips since the touches came one after the other, with a little more pressure than needed. His teeth tugged on your skin harsher than usual, but the sharp, short spurts of pain did have sparkles going through your body. Your breath grew heavier as even your mind struggled a little to keep up with what was going on—and what would go on, as well.

“A—Ace!” You gulped, feeling fingers tugging on the waistband of your shorts. “We can’t! We are in someone else’s ship and we—”

“It doesn’t matter!” His whispers were a little louder than yours. “Don’t you understand that I need you? That you belong to me?” His lips pressed to yours once again, messily.

You kissed back for a second, but then pressed a hand to his shoulder. “You know that’s not what I meant! I—”

Ace’s face twisted bitterly before he kissed you again, taking your bottom lip between his teeth and biting hard enough to make you wonder if your mouth was bleeding when he let go to continue his way down your neck. His teeth tugged on your skin in between soft sucks that only didn’t leave many marks behind because he didn’t have the patience to continue on the same spot for too long.

You relaxed a little under his touches once you started to get used to the intensity of everything, though it’s not much; Ace’s big palms spread over your waist to massage the skin softly as he keeps pressing you to the wall don’t really do anything to help with how uncomfortable your shorts started to feel. The zipper was painful against your cock, making you hiss a little, only to moan when his thigh pressed to your crotch instead; it had a quiet moan escaping your lips as you squeezed his shoulders. It was hard to resist it now.

“Ace...” You whispered, trying to figure out a way to ask for more without clearly doing it; why would you admit to giving on to Ace’s wishes? A gasp escaped your lips with how he pressed closer, his lips low going lower to leave nibbles and kisses on your pec and risking going around your nipple. His name escaped your lips among poorly suppressed moans as you pressed a hand to the back of his neck to pull him closer, which of course made him keep going—you gasped, covering your mouth with a hand to stop a damn moan because of the way his teeth sunk just right around your nipple.

Ace’s name escaped your lips in a messy moan that didn’t even sound comprehensible while his tongue ran flat against your nipple. Still, those weren’t compared to the way he even made you double over when his teeth sunk into your peck, high on your chest.

“You gonna continue walking around without that shirt of yours,” he mumbled against your chest, but his wide, dark eyes were on yours, “and gonna show everyone who you belong to.”

The idea of it just made you want more, unfortunately, slowly giving in more and more to Ace’s whims and rolling your hips into his thigh in response.

A sigh escaped Ace’s lips as he pulled back, allowing his warmth against your body to be uncomfortably placed with cold air while he started to unbutton your shorts. The bulge in his pants drew your eyes inexplicably easy, making you gulp seeing his shorts seemed about as uncomfortably tight as yours.

The shorts fell to the ground and his lips were on yours again immediately, with slow, open mouthed kisses as his hands slipped into your boxers, rubbing your thighs a little as he slowly pulled your underwear down. You stepped out of it with how the way he held onto your hips made you move until Ace helped you on top of a barrel. You gasped as you looked down between the two of you, seeing your flush cock rest back against your lower stomach, swollen and leaking from how he had been teasing you so far, twitching at the way Ace’s hard cock rubbed against your ass despite still being clothed.

“Don’t you think you still have a little too much clothing on?” You mumbled, resting your back against the wall.

“Are you in a position to ask for anything?” Ace raised an eyebrow. “Giving attention to the others. Did you even know where I was? What I was doing?”

You narrowed your eyes and let out a soft scoff, shaking your head a little. “You’re so...”

The words escaped your grasp, making a smirk stretch across Ace’s face as he hooked his hands under your thighs, bringing them up in a way you were forced into a not quite sitting position anymore, almost slipping if you didn’t hold onto the edges of the barrel and Ace didn’t hold you. His hands were open against your thighs, fingers sinking into them to squeeze the skin for a moment, thumb rubbing circles into your inner thighs.

It was agonizingly good and Ace knew that, holding the strong eye contact as he slowly inched lower, keeping track of the little hitches in your breath while you held yourself back from squirming under his touch. A look of victory took over his face at the moment you let your head rest back against the wall, moaning and pushing into his touch once his hand wrapped around your cock. It wasn’t necessarily good given how dry his hand was, barely moving, but it was already some sort of relief.

You observed Ace through half-lidded eyes, swallowing dryly as you watched him lean forward until warm lips met the inside of your thigh, at first just lingering over them lightly enough to make your skin rise in shivers. It was almost mesmerizing, hence you only came back to reality when Ace’s tongue poked out, warm and wet against the base of your cock.

A gasp escaped your lips, your breath hitching in your throat multiple times with how Ace kept mouthing at the area, letting his tongue poke out now and then; his fingers sank into your thighs to keep them open despite how you threatened to close them around his head.

An embarrassingly high pitched sound came from you when you felt his tongue against your hole. Ace paused before he licked it again with enough spit to trail down your skin. There was certain concentration in Ace’s face as he did it, eyebrows furrowed and eyes sometimes averting up to check on your reaction, especially when you shifted, thighs tensing up under his touch because his tongue started to poke in.

“Ace,” you whispered through a moan, fingers tightening around the edges of the barrel because of how he lapped inside you, keeping you open. Another moan was silenced with a hiss as you tensed up and curled your toes, trying to roll your hips into his mouth out of reflex at the moment he leaned in, trying to reach his tongue deeper and, fuck—

One of your hands flew to Ace’s hair, holding him there, which didn’t really work well given the way he pulled back a little and licked his fingers up. Turns out it wasn’t bad—not at all—, you gasped, feeling your body grow hotter at the feeling of his fingers lining up with your entrance at the same time his mouth pressed to your cock, licking along the underside of it at the same time he pushed his fingers in and curled them up inside.

“Ngh, Ace...” You gasped, struggling to keep the sounds in; you tried to keep yourself quiet by holding your breath whenever a moan threatened to escape your throat, but it just fucking ended up making you out of air and having everything become each time more difficult. “A—Ace—” Maybe it was a little louder than it should this time, your thighs almost closing around his head because of how his fingers curled up and pressed just against the right spot. All of that was dangerous, making you squirm a lot, becoming dangerously close.

The way you clenched around Ace’s fingers only had him pushing his fingers in deeper, making more desperate gasps and babbling pleas spill from your lips at the same time you tugged on his hair. It was so, so close, and you were almost there when Ace just pulled away.

“No...” You whined, feeling the previously crescent pressure in your lower stomach now start to dissipate, much to Ace’s amusement. He only grinned, proudly sporting his face wet with drool as he took a step back and started to undo his belt.

Light throbbing was the only thing that resulted from Ace's strong grip on your thighs, leaving you wanting for more as you quietly watched him finally help himself, lowering his shorts and boxers just a little down his thighs, just enough. Ace spit on his hand before he wrapped his hand around his own cock, giving it a few pumps, mixing the spit with his precum. Just the sight was enough to make your cock twitch in anticipation, leaking as you ached for his touch to return, knuckles going white around the edges of the barrel again.

Ace’s hand sent sparkles through your skin once it pressed to it again, kneading into the fat of your thigh, the other one holding the base of his cock and letting it press gently against your entrance, feeling it flutter. Your breath hitched in anticipation, which easily happened again as you gasped and suppressed moans with how he started to push in, finally.

Your eyes watched Ace disappear inside you, making your breath shaky as you tried to suppress all the sounds that tried to push past your lips; feeling him stretch you out so nice and good, slowly sinking in deeper. He paused once his hips met the back of your thighs in a short pause that allowed you to attempt to regain your breath only to moan at the moment he started to move his hips, moving right away with harsh and heavy thrusts.

“A—Ace,” you couldn’t help but whine, interrupted by a loud moan at the moment he hooked his hands pressed to the underside of your thighs to push your legs back against your torso, allowing him to reach in deeper and just at the right spots. “A—Ace, I need to— The others, they—” You slapped a hand over your mouth, trying to muffle the sounds because of how his cock managed to reach just into the spot that made your thighs quiver, forcing against the grip of his hands in fruitless attempts to press shut.

“I don’t care.” Ace moaned lowly, breath labored as he looked at you from under his lashes, messy black strands gluing to his sweaty forehead. “Why’d I care if they learned that you are mine, hm? Learned how well I can please you?” He scoffed, with that goddamn grin across his face, his fingers sinking into your skin as his hips snapped against yours with more force, making useless the attempts of at least muffling your sounds since you could barely hold your hand to your lips, and Ace didn’t even fucking care about it.

His lips continued stretched in that fucking grin as his hips slammed against yours again and again and, damn it, you were cumming already, all over your torso, hot and sticky as you tried to keep yourself together.

Ace’s eyes met yours with a different gaze this time, in a wordless ‘I hope you know that I’m not ready yet’ as his hips worked more intensely against yours, fucking you through your high and relishing your overstimulation that quickly came with how one of his hands reached forward and squeezed your peck.

“Fuck,” Ace gasped with a pause. He wrapped one of your legs around his own waist, throwing the other over his shoulder before he could squeeze your chest again and go back to moving his hips; they slammed against yours in a messy rhythm at first before finally picking up a pace that made your cock twitch again.

Your whimpers and heavy breathing filled his ears along with the obscene wet sound of skin against skin. Ace let out a moan as he looked down between the two of you, watching his cock disappear inside you repeatedly, leaving a creamy, white line around the base. Damn it. A string of moans escaped his lips as he squeezed your thigh and your chest more; he was fucking coming, pumping cum inside of you as he continued to move his hips and make sure it pushed in deep, coating your insides all over.

Shaky, whiny breaths cut through the thick silence of the room as the two of you slowly came back to reality. Ace pulled away from you, biting his lip as he watched the cum drip out of your hole. Why was it so fucking hot? His hands rubbed your thighs soothingly, pressing kisses to the soft skin as he slowly let your legs down.

“That was good,” Ace mumbled, adjusting his underwear and shorts again. “Want me to clean you?” He licked his lips and grinned, glancing between your legs and at your eyes again with wiggling eyebrows.

“Ace!” Your cheeks burned hotter and you pressed your thighs together, finally, looking away.

Ace laughed. “Right, right.” He bent down, handing you your boxers and your shorts. You struggled to get off the barrel, legs shaking as the ground seemed to twirl under your feet, but you grabbed your clothes and started to put them back on. “Your chest looks kinda nice, may I say.” That damn grin was over his face again, making you flustered and annoyed all at the same time.

“Fuck off, Ace,” you mumbled. How were you even supposed to leave that room given how you were probably too loud and none of you had a shirt? “Damn it, Ace...”

.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.

The tale of the Robin who never loved

Jason Todd x Male Reader (including swearing and sex)

Happy pride 🏳️‍🌈

A dark abandoned warehouse filled with the screams of Jason Todd, the second Robin. The angry teenager who got too cocky.

Joker had just about done all methods of torture on the young man, laughing hysterically the whole time. Fear and sadness was all Jason could feel right now.

Jason never loved his whole life, his parents were just as bad as most of the scum who roamed the streets at night in Gotham. Jason lived in the streets, then being adopted by Bruce Wayne.

Jason found it hard to love the man he now calls Dad, feeling like he was only adopted into the Wayne line to replace his older brother, Dick. Not there because Bruce loved and cared for him.

So, here it was now in present day Gotham City, with Jason, or rather currently Red Hood, dishing what he was given all his life.

His unhealthy amount of anger was fostered by a pair of personas, until the day it was finally released on anyone who crossed him the wrong way.

Jason was not a happy man nor was he an empathetic man, at least not to those he didn’t care much for. He, of course, would make it very obvious. If Jason didn’t like you, there was no changing it, he did not like you.

Half the time there was no reason behind it, he just didn’t want to be open to new people. So used dislike as an excuse.

One particular humid night on patrol, humidity, heat and anger are never a good mix FYI, Jason was just not in the mood to give in. Patrol was rough, and criminals would be on the receiving end unfortunately.

The night club was loud tonight as the music blared, so loud the floor vibrated violently. Though no one cared, alcohol mixed with lights. People were never caring to complain the nightclub music hurt their ears.

Jason in particular stood out as he sat alone at the bar, drinking neat whiskey, more neat whiskey, shots, neat whiskey.

Was he drinking to forget? Feel better? Sleep better?

Jason didn’t know at this point as he poured the booze down his throat, waiting for the affects to kick in. One thing from the pit, was his tolerance got better, would drink way more than the average man and still had no affect. Drunkenness was not easy to come by.

The music was a good choice as Jason just listened and hummed along, to himself and just enjoyed the feel and the beat.

‘Hey handsome’ a woman smiled as she approached Jason.

Not unattractive to be fair as she stood a good height, roughly about 5’6, blonde curly hair, night dress. Great legs and soft skin. Big, blue eyes, not overdone with the fake tan and makeup.

‘Hi’ Jason side smiled, the woman placed her hand on Jason’s bicep, having a good feel.

‘I’m Elena, wanna dance with me?’ She asked, not letting go of Jason’s arm.

‘Sorry, Elena, I’m not really a dancer’ he replied politely, trying to pull his arm out of her grip.

Jason had his admirers but never cared much to let it go anywhere. To be fair, Jason knew his type, he just never met anyone from that.

‘It’s ok, we can have some drinks and see where the night goes’ Elena continued, flicking her hair behind her shoulder.

‘We can have a drink, I really don’t mind. Could use company’ Jason agreed, Elena getting happy as she sat next to him.

The two spoke for a while as they got past the first name basis, talking about music interests, different types of cocktails they liked.

‘So, you wanna have that dance now?’ Elena asked after a minute of talking about random music choice.

‘Still not a dancer, sorry’ Jason reminded, Elena smiled as she shrugged.

‘No problem hotness, we can go back to my place and have a different kind of dance’ Elena laughed.

‘You are a very beautiful woman Elena, but you’re really not my type’ Jason responded as politely as possible.

Elena looked at Jason annoyed as she sighed, looking him the eyes.

‘What would make me your type?’ She asked, Jason chuckled a little.

‘My type is toned, dark haired, nice eyes, great smile, male’ Jason informed, Elena clocked on and nodded.

‘Got it’ she said, sliding off the chair and walking away with her drink.

Jason laughed a little as he started on his next drink. Not paying attention to anything as he found humour in the situation he was just in.

That’s when he knocked someone’s arm and spilt their drink all over them, Jason’s eyes shot wide as he turned to them.

‘Oh my God, I’m so sorry, so sorry’ Jason apologised profusely to the male figure standing next to him.

‘It’s ok, really I didn’t look where I was going’ you said, seeing as Jason stared at you.

Call it enough and it’ll happen as Jason looked at you, toned, nice eyes, great smile, dark hair and male. Shit.

‘Let me buy you another drink’ Jason said as he urged you to stay next to him.

‘It’s ok’ you placed a hand on his shoulder, Jason insisting.

‘No really, it’s only polite, I knocked your drink out of your hand the least I should do is buy you another’ Jason kept insisting as he got the bartender over.

‘Hey, can I get another…uh’ Jason looked at you, you laughed.

‘God father’

‘Right, another one please’ Jason said to the bartender as he paid for the drink.

‘Feel like I should take you out to dinner’ you chuckled to Jason as he handed you the drink.

Jason looked at you with his eyebrows raised, smiling a little.

‘I mean, you brought me a drink so I should get you dinner’

Jason kicked the bar stool next to him to invite you to sit down, which you did.

The two of you sat for ages as you laughed and talked about life, having quite a deep conversation. You couldn’t deny this handsome stranger was quite intriguing.

‘I’m Jason Todd by the way, just realised I haven’t told you my name’ Jason held out his hand.

‘Y/n y/l/n’ you shook his hand with a bright smile.

The night got late as you looked down to see it was almost 1 in the morning, you didn’t even register how late it had gotten.

‘Crap, is that the time?’ You said looking at your phone screen.

‘Curfew?’ Jason asked jokingly as you smiled, nodding.

‘Something like that, was telling my roommate I wouldn’t be out too late tonight’ you stood up as Jason looked a little upset.

‘Well, if I give you my number will I get that dinner you promised?’ Jason asked, holding your hand.

‘Yeah, here’ you pulled a marker from behind the counter and wrote on Jason’s arm, your number of course.

‘Don’t wash that arm till you save my number’ you winked as you have Jason a kiss on the cheek.

Jason was almost floating the whole way home as he kept thinking about you, literally all he thought about for the 15 minute walk was you.

Your laugh, your smile…everything about you, Jason just wanted to go see you now.

‘What the hell?’ Jason said to himself as he got to his front door, wondering why he was like this all of a sudden.

First date was great, you gave Jason what he promised. Second date, Jason promised to kiss you spontaneously. And he did.

Jason stood with you under an archway as he took your hand in his, pulling you in and giving you a deep kiss. The kiss almost made you stop breathing as your heart stopped too, for about 30 seconds.

The kiss was all Jason could think about for the next couple of days, he couldn’t believe how beautiful it was. How good it made him feel.

It had been so long since Jason had kissed a guy he was sure he’d do something wrong, but you were so laid back. It took the pressure off.

Jason stood staring at himself in the mirror as he adjusted his shirt collar, he sprayed himself again. Thinking about how the next part was coming.

You entered Jason’s apartment after he kissed you at the door, all Jason wanted to do was kiss you. All the time.

There was a nice candlelit dinner with some light music on in the background, though no one paid attention to the music.

Jason couldn’t help the aching twitch in his pants as he looked at you, holding your hand from the other side of the table.

You weren’t doing much better either as all you could concentrate on right now was the same thing, the twitch.

Jason stood up as he took your hands in his and stood you up, kissing you passionately all of a sudden. A kiss you welcomed.

You pulled Jason in and pressed yourself up against his body, a body you’d been dying to see.

Jason slid your shirt off as you didn’t even register he’d unbuttoned it, you unbuttoning Jason’s. Running your hand down his torso, looking down and almost gasping.

‘Wow, you’re ripped’ you smiled.

A sigh of relief came from Jason as he pulled you in for another kiss, a relief that you never once commented on the scar filled body.

Jason lifted you up so your legs were wrapped around his waist, taking you to his room. Throwing you on his bed.

Jason pulled your pants down, your underwear and greeted your throbbing, hard dick with his mouth.

You threw your head back into the pillow as you moaned out, a breath escaped from your mouth in sheer joy.

Jason worked on your shaft like a pro as you moaned out, Jason held your hips in place as he went to work.

The bliss from his new found hobby was a feeling you didn’t know you could have, Jason holding you down so he could do all the work.

Jason came up to your face as he gave you another deep kiss, his tongue tasted of your pleasure. Though he wasn’t ready for you to finish yet.

He rolled you onto your stomach as he pulled your legs apart, Jason’s tongue tearing into your hole. Giving kisses to your ass cheeks, along with bites.

Jason was so hard it was hurting him but he wasn’t ready until you were, he wanted you to tell him how much you needed him. Jason was polite like that.

Jason dug his fingertips into your cheeks while his tongue devoured the hole, you gasping in pleasure.

‘Jason, I want you’ you breathed out, you felt Jason smile while his face was against you.

‘You sure?’ Jason asked, you grabbed at Jason’s leg, urging him to come closer.

You rolled on your back and kissed Jason deeply again, his lips were something special. You’d never had kisses like his before.

His kisses were hungry almost as Jason would grab and pull you close, yet he was also light when kissing, he would lightly peck before getting deeper.

‘Holy, wow’ you gasped as Jason took off his underwear.

There it was, Jason’s prize for your patience, his hard and throbbing dick, at least at a good 9/10 inches.

‘Come here baby’ Jason said sweetly, pulling you closer to him.

Jason lay you on your back while he kissed you, laying in between your spread open legs. Jason was lined up and ready.

You guys had spoken about protection already, you telling Jason you’re allergic to latex, so Jason took the responsibility to get latex free condoms.

Jason slid into you slowly, you buried your face into his shoulder, taking deep breaths. Jason entered and stayed there for a few seconds.

‘You ok babe?’ He asked you, you nodding as you breathed your way through it.

‘Yeah, feels amazing’ you smiled, Jason pecked your nose.

‘You want poppers?’ He asked sweetly, you shook your head.

‘No, just fuck me’ you urged as Jason began to move slowly.

Slow and small thrusts to start as No to brag, but Jason was aware he was quite big in the genital department, so he usually had to take his time when having sex with someone new.

‘Oh God, that feels amazing’ you breathed out, Jason smiled as he saw your face. Biting your lip, closing your eyes while your head was back in the pillow.

‘My sweet Angel’ Jason whispered as he picked up a quicker pace.

It had been a while for Jason so he was aware to take it slow, not to finish too quickly. Also, he was enjoying the view of you.

‘Jason, oh God’ you couldn’t find words as Jason began to move faster. Testing how fast he could go with you.

The more Jason sped up the more you loved it, so Jason began going quicker to a point where he was slapping against you.

‘I wanna sit on you’ you said as you urged Jason to roll on his back.

You slid back onto Jason’s dick while he lay down, you sitting on top.

You slid up and down slow for about a minute, running your hands up and down Jason’s arms and chest, then you began to go quicker.

‘Fuck, baby, y/n’ Jason almost shouted as you began to bounce quicker, allowing Jason to go balls deep inside you.

Jason took his hands away from your waist as he put one hand under his head, laying back. The other hand resting in your thigh.

Your hips moving as you began to jerk yourself, Jason taking his time to let you finish first.

‘Oh God I’m so close’ you moaned as you lay down on your back, your seed spilling everywhere. On Jason’s chest, the bed.

Jason chuckled as he started to pick up a quicker pace, you sat back up straight, feeling Jason inside you still.

‘Oh fuck, fuck’ Jason growled as he began to feel himself getting closer and closer.

‘Come in me’ you called out, neglecting the fact that the neighbours could hear you two.

Jason lifted his hips off the bed slowly and sharply as he got the end. Throwing his head back into the pillow.

You lay next to Jason as he caught his breath, while you kissed at his neck and shoulder.

‘I really need to clean up’ Jason smiled as he kissed your head, rolling out of bed.

Time went on and the two of you became more and more inseparable, after about 6 months Jason asked if you wanted to move your stuff to his apartment. You of course, accepting.

‘I really want to suck your dick’ Jason randomly said to you while you were cooking dinner, you smiled a little.

Jason lifted you off your feet and rested you on the counter, pulling your pants down as he went to work. Swallowing the load that came out.

‘Save the energy for dessert babe’ you smiled, Jason slapping your ass, pressing himself into you.

The two of you just had so much fun together and Jason was not even surprised or scared the first time you told him you loved him. He just wrapped you up in a hug, telling you he feels the same.

There was more to the relationship than just spurts if sex in the day, night and other times. Mean, you and Jason had sex nearly every night.

The other parts of the relationship was Jason surprising you to a trip away, Bruce’s beach house, a weekend getaway trip, a shopping trip. There really wasn’t anything Jason hadn’t surprised you with.

You introduced Jason to all the local Gay bars, you took him on his first pride March. Most precious to Jason, you just loved him hard. Probably the hardest anyone has ever loved him.

Jason Todd, the Robin who never loved, had changed dramatically and was mad at himself for so long going without you, for himself refusing to love and be loved. You helped him as he was now able to not only love you, but himself.

2 or 28 with Jake Sully

prompts.

⠀⠀“i think about you. ceaselessly.” — j. s.

⠀⠀⠀ ⠀“you blush so beautifully.” — j. s.

jake never understood your adoration towards him. he always thinks it’s because he was toruk makto, and how he led the na’vi to victory against the sky people — and you always tell him no. sure, it’s impressive, but you didn’t care for it. at this point, he doubts he’ll ever get it.

but, that doesn’t mean you can’t at least try to force it through his thick skull.

“you blush so beautifully.” that only make his blush darken, hiding his face beneath his bicep. he was naked, vulnerable, nothing to cover his beauty — your words, not his. it made him red, all over, thighs rubbing together.

your skilled fingers rub over his skin, ignoring the spots were he needed them the most, silently worshiping the majority of his body.

he’d squirm, complain, talking about how stupid this is. you only continue, leaning down to kiss everything you touched. truthfully speaking, he loved this. your attention is all he craved. his body saying what he wouldn’t as it twitched, his dick drooling pre-cum.

“please.” he whispers. he wants you inside, any part of you, as long as you fill him. but no, moments like these take time, and you have the patience to give every piece of him the admiration it deserves. he’s so perfect.

“i think about you. ceaselessly.” your words fog his mind. he whines, arching his back, pressing his chest onto you.

after almost an hour had passed, you would finally, finally, touch his cock, then his ass. giving his most sensitive spots everything they needed, and more. what he hadn’t realize, is that you wouldn’t stop doing so until he couldn’t come anymore. he earned this, to have his mind broken, you thought.

this will be a very, very long night.