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pandastix123 · 18 hours ago

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Attention Grabbing - Superboy x Reader

Requested by Anon - a superboy x reader where the reader has the ability to change pheromones and she accidentally makes all the other members of the team become attracted to her even though she’s dating Conner

It was an average day for the team. Everyone had gathered in the training room to do individual training. Conner, your boyfriend, was in the far corner, lifting weights with Kaldur and Wally. M’gann was on the mats, practicing her cheers. Artemis was with Robin by the punching bags. You glanced around the room, blowing Conner a kiss when you met his eye before deciding to run on one of the treadmills.

Putting in your earbuds, you started the treadmill at a easy pace to warm up. As music blasted into your ears, you glanced over to see a shirtless Conner. He was lifting the heaviest weight with ease. You sighed, loving the way his muscles flexed with each lift.

You were so distracted by Conner’s muscles, you forgot to watch your footing. Tripping, you fell hard onto the moving treadmill. The treadmill deposited you onto the floor roughly.

“(Y/N),” Conner shouted, dropping the weight he was holding to run over to you. He dropped to his knees beside you, picking you up slightly to let you lean back against his chest. You shook your head, trying to clear it. “Are you alright?”

Blinking several times, you carefully began to flex your body to check for injury. All you found was soreness from the fall. “I’m fine, Conner. Just tripped.”

“Well, be more careful,” he answered roughly while gently helping you stand. You gave him a tiny smile in thanks.

“I will,” you promised as Conner kissed your cheek. He headed back over to the weights as the rest of the team stared at you in concern. You smiled at them reassuredly before carefully climbing back on the treadmill to continue your run. Making sure not to look at Conner again, you fell into rhythm with the music from your earbuds.

As you jogged, your mind drifted to other things. However, you kept a hold on yourself to keep your powers in check. You could change pheromones affecting the people around you. They used to be out of control, but after training with Batman and Black Canary, you were able to control it for the most part. Even if you did slip up, it only had a minor effect on the people around you.

It was tiring to be in constant control. The only time you could be free was when you were locked in your room by yourself or with Conner. Conner didn’t mind the effect of your powers, he seemed almost immune to them. He could feel them slightly, but never to the extent that they would control him. You figured it had something to do with his time at Cadmus.

You increased the speed of the treadmill, feeling ready for a challenge. Another song blared into your ears as your thoughts drifted back to Conner. The two of you were supposed to go out for dinner tonight, but you hadn’t decided on a place yet. You were hoping Conner will let you drag him to New York City through the zeta tubes for pizza. Licking your lips at the thought, you upped the treadmill’s speed.

Meanwhile, unnoticed by you, the other members of the team found their gazes drifting over to you. It was like some kind of magnetic pull. Soon after, they started drifting towards you. M’gann moved closer to you while she practiced. Artemis moved to the training dummy closest to you, and Robin hopped on the treadmill next to you. Wally and Kaldur stayed by the weights, staring at you intensely.

You gave Robin a tiny smile of acknowledgment before focusing on your running. Robin frowned at having lost your attention as he started running at a slightly faster pace then you, hoping to gain it back. Seeing what Robin was doing, Wally left the weights to stand beside your treadmill. He leaned against the armrest, giving you a cheesy smile. You smiled back at him tentatively, taking out your earbuds.

“Hi Wally,” you greeted, eyeing him curiously while slowing down your treadmill. Robin slowed down with you, still trying to keep pace with you. “What do you want?”

“Do you know how beautiful you are in this light?” he flirted, making your eyes widen in surprise. Honestly, you felt anything, but beautiful at this moment, sweaty as you were.

“What?” you remarked as Robin snorted. Wally glared at him behind your back.

“Just ignore him (Y/N), he just discovered how beautiful you are, but I, on the other hand, have known since I first saw you,” Robin replied sweetly. Wally growled at him.

“…Thanks, Rob,” you answered, having no idea why they both were complimenting you now. You were sure you had your powers in check. They couldn’t be under the influence of your pheromones, could they?

Wally moved over to Robin’s treadmill, fighting him for it. Both ended up on the floor, wresting each other. You stared at them while stopping your treadmill. Your brow furrowed in confusion before M’gann appeared next to you.

“Hey (Y/N), do you want to help me practice?” she asked, taking your arm. You were about to answer when Artemis appeared on your other side.

“No, she can’t M’gann, because you’re going to spar with me, right (Y/N)?” she demanded, taking your other arm to pull you in the opposite direction.

“Since when are you the boss of (Y/N)?” M’gann snapped back as the girls started to bicker over you, pulling you back and forth between them. Robin and Wally noticed the girls fighting over you, and came over to join their argument.

You didn’t know what to do. They each kept pulling you in their direction, saying you had to spend time with them and no one else. Glancing over at the weights, you frowned when Conner didn’t notice your trouble. Huffing to yourself, you wondered how he could notice you fall off the treadmill and not notice the team fighting over you.

Kaldur didn’t join the fight over you, knowing his sudden attraction towards you wasn’t natural. Not to get him wrong, you were one of the most beautiful surface-dwellers he had ever seen, but he knew you were with Conner. He sat on one of the weight benches, trying to regain control of his emotions so he could help you get away from the others.

He glanced at Conner, only to find him lifting weights with earbuds in, blocking all the sounds of your distress. Kaldur sighed as he saw the team was starting to pull you around. Reaching over, Kaldur pulled one of the earbuds from Conner’s ear.

“What?” Conner asked sharply, roughly putting the weight into it’s holder.

“(Y/N) needs your help,” Kaldur explained, his hands gripped the bench tightly. “You need to get her out of here.”

“Why? She’s just…,” Conner began before fading off when he sat up to see you being fought over like a piece a meat among dogs. “Oh.”

“Yes, you need to get her out of here before they hurt her,” Kaldur ordered as Conner ran over to you. It took everything he had to stop himself from following Conner. Taking a deep breath, he tried to focus on Tula to stop his racing emotions.

You almost started sobbing at this point as the team started pulling you around even harder. Your arms hurt from being held so tightly and being suddenly ripped away from the grip. Therefore, when Conner pushed his way through them and scooped you up, you sighed in relief.

Conner ran from the room with you in his arms while the others attempted to pursue in rage. You tried to block out the world by burying your face in Conner’s neck. Conner held you tighter in response as he dodged Wally who attempted to make a grab at you.

After a bit, Conner was able to get you safely into your room while locking the door behind him. You could hear the others’ cries of disappointment before they fell silent. Once Conner was sure they were gone, he laid you down onto the bed. You curled up into a ball once Conner’s arms left you. Sobs broke out from you as you let your pent up tears fall.

A moment later, you felt Conner lay down behind you. He carefully turned you over, and pulled you into his chest. It was still bare, but you didn’t care finding it comforting in some way.

“I’m sorry, I thought I had it under control,” you cried, your voice muffled by Conner’s chest. He heard you anyway.

“It’s okay, everyone makes mistakes,” Conner soothed, petting your hair. “Remember when I broke the door from pushing so hard, we all mess up sometimes.”

“But I was stupid. I let my thoughts drift for a little bit and suddenly they were there,” you replied, another waves of sobs racking your body. “Batman going to be so mad.��

Conner sighed, tightening his arms around you. “Don’t worry about it. The team and Batman will understand. They know how hard it is for you to control it all the time.”

“I was so scared, they weren’t themselves,” you gasped, snuggling deeper into his chest. You both fell silent for a long time until Conner cleared his throat once your tears had stopped.

“What were you thinking about when it happened?” he asked gently as you pulled back to meet his eye. A frisky smile crossed your face.

“I was thinking about our dinner date tonight,” you admitted shyly, blushing a little when he chuckled.

“I think that you should stop thinking about me in public,” Conner stated.

You raised an eyebrow at him. “And why should I?”

“Well, you fell off the treadmill when you were checking me out earlier,” he explained, blushing slightly. “Then you think about me again and the whole team becomes infatuated with you. Thinking about me seems to be a health risk.” His lips frowned a little as if he was hurt by the idea.

“No, thinking about you is not a health risk,” you answered, sitting up a little to press a kiss to his lips. “I just have to adapt to it.” He smiled before pulling you into another kiss.

After you both came up for air, you narrowed your eyes coyly at him. “Were you jealous?”

Conner snorted before looking away from you. “No.”

You grinned at him, knowing he was jealous. “So, it would have been fine if one of them locked me in their room and…”

“Stop it,” Conner demanded, kissing you to silence your next words. You laughed, glad to learn that this accident revealed something you didn’t know Conner felt. “It’s not funny, (Y/N).”

“I know,” you answered, sobering a little. “But it’s nice to know you were jealous.”

“I don’t see why that would be nice,” Conner protested, playing with your hair. “It didn’t feel nice.”

“Jealousy rarely does, but it shows you care about me,” you explained kindly as Conner stared at you with his bright blue eyes.

“I’ve always cared about you, (Y/N),” he stated bluntly as he pulled you on top of him. You sat up, sitting on his chest.

“And I have always cared about you, Conner,” you replied. His eyes sparkled at your words as he gently grabbed your head to bring your lips to his. You let your powers free, knowing by the intensity of Conner’s kiss that it was alright.

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pandastix123 · 2 days ago

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Tags: [mlw][mdni][annoyed to lovers][missionary][couch sex][slight bottom!Michael][missionary][mating press][prone bone][clit teasing][lawn chair moment][

"I need lots of gold and lots of blue."

You stare at Michael as those words leave his lips, and you internally grimace at the mental image you paint. Blue carpets and gold walls, and everything just looks like a Sims fever dream. And you swallow.

"Michael, as your interior designer, I can't willingly let your penthouse look tacky. I just can't." You deadpan, shaking your head before dropping down onto the sofa, plopping your files down onto the coffee tables and you splay out all of the different fabrics, paint swatches, textures and everything you could possibly need to do an analysis of Michael's home.

A brand new penthouse, bought and his to do with what he pleases.

Which is code for: yours to do with what you please.

"But I'm Booster Gold. I'm golden, baby." He grins, dimples in his suntanned cheeks, golden hair falling over his brow bone before he cards his fingers through the strands, pushing them out of his face before glancing down at your tools and materials.

Michael's always found the way you work fascinating. You're great with interior decorating, and your innate ability to Feng Shui any room without struggle is... Alarmingly sexy to him.

Especially when he watches the way you roll the sleeves of your blouse up to your elbows, pinning your hair back and continue to move around his penthouse like you own the place.

That's the best part to him.

"Firstly, don't call me baby. And secondly, being 'golden', doesn't mean being tacky. There's enough tacky rich people in the world." You huff out, before glancing around the penthouse.

It looks rather... Nice. Plain, boring but nice.

Wooden floors, cream walls, minimalistic paintings that hang on the walls to add colour to the otherwise bleak space. And you purse your lips.

"What room do you wanna start with first?" You question, and when Michael tips his head a certain way, you let out a breath before moving towards his bedroom.

Spacious, large windows that lead onto a balcony terrace, carpeted floors and an ensuite. And you let out a whistle.

"Okay, I can work with this. What's my budget?" You question with a hum, turning on your heels, platforms doing nothing to stop the fact that you need to crane your neck to meet that ocean-y gaze.

And Michael lets out a laugh.

"A budget? Who am I, Booster Budget?" He snorts. "No baby, I'm B—"

"Yeah yeah, you're Booster Gold. Stop dickriding yourself so hard, your knees are gonna give out."

And Michael can barely hide the way he gulps, his cock twitching in his boxers at the way you dismiss him so... Easily.

—♱—

"Yeah, this is the way I want it." Michael nods his head, biceps bulging as he crosses his arms over his chest, his eyes trained on his reformed living room.

Michael had opted to decorate the living room, giving you the important task to spend majority of the thinking and idea process on his bedroom with the main point being to decorate in a way to maximise the quality of his sleep.

Pale gold carpeting with deep blue walls, golden columns on either side of the door that leads onto the terrace, carved and regal, but what really kills you, is the gaudy gold and Swarovski crystal chandelier that hangs from the ceiling.

"What the actual fuck, Michael?" You groan. "Are you Persian? What the fuck is this?"

"It's choice." "Nobody says that!"

Frustration bleeds into your voice, your fingers moving to pinch the bridge of your nose and a tempered breath leaves your parted lips. But instead of focusing on the frustration and the way you're white-knuckling your files, he's focused on your lips.

Soft, pouty lips lined with the perfect lip liner that just brings out the shape of your lips, and a soft lip tint covering the majority of your lips, all encapsulated with a clear gloss. And Michael swallows.

"It looks like you drive a white BMW."

"It's a McClaren Senna." Michael corrects, letting out a huff of a breath before moving around the sofa, and dropping into the seat, stretching his arm along the backrest as he looks up at you.

Blonde lashes flutter, blue eyes twinkle when he watches the way the light hits the crystals, prismatic rays of sunlight dance across your skin and Michael swallows, running his pink tongue across his bottom lip.

"It's not that bad." Michael states with a hum. "It's flashy, it's cool. It's—"

"If you say it's 'Booster Gold', I am going to hit you with your own car."

Your eyes narrow and Michael swallows.

It really shouldn't be sexy when you threaten him with violence, it really shouldn't.

But he's picturing the way your manicured hands would wrap around his steering wheel, the way your rings would glint whenever you'd wrap your pretty hand around the ball of the gearshift and Michael lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

"At least sit on the couch." He whines, his childish demeanor perfectly hiding the way his cock is twitching against his thigh, and he's glad his boxers are extra snug, because if they weren't, it'd be safe to assume that this conversation wouldn't be happening.

You let out an unattractive grunt before planting yourself on the cushion next to Michael, instantly sinking into the soft and admittedly luxurious seat, before you let out a huff.

"It's... Nice."

'Nice' is an understatement. Your ass is in heaven right now. Cushiony seat that envelops your form perfectly and Michael's arm is tossed over your neck, muscles flexing as he forces you closer, your face nearly mushed against his pec as he looks down at you.

"It's okay, beautiful, I know it's hard to admit I was right." He mocks you, blonde bangs falling over his eyes perfect and holy fuck, Michael looks like an angel.

Golden strands frame his face perfectly, dark gold brows arched and ending at a sharp tail that makes you wonder if Michael gets his eyebrows done professionally and that smile.

Pearly white teeth, full lips and deep dimples, all tied together with a jawline that could slice through the thick sexual tension between you and snacks you didn't pay for.

"Come on, tell me I was right about something." Michael goads. "Anything at all."

"You were right about the sofa."

The words are grit out, and it's hard for you to admit defeat, but that's not the only hard thing for you to do.

"Shit, shit, shit— Michael," you gasp out a shaky breath, hands clawing at Michael's lower belly, feeling the way his abs flex beneath your feverish palms, "Michael, it's too deep."

You've got your back against the armrest of the sofa, legs spread further than you've ever had them before and all to accomodate Michael's large frame, one of his hands braced beside your head as the other grips your hip in an iron hold.

Fingertips dig into the fat of your sides, as Michael slowly feeds you inches of his cock, achingly hard and drooling thick rivulets of precum that line and lube up your gummy walls.

"Uh-uh, 's not deep enough yet." Michael breathes out, brows twitching in concentration as he pushes his hips more, more, more, more until they're snugly nestled between your thighs and your legs are wrapped around his waist.

It's a burning stretch to accomodate his intrusion.

Fat cock prodding and reaching deeper than you've ever experienced, plush pussy wrapped sloppily around his base and the only solace you have is that Michael's taking the time to adjust to the tightness of you too. And you gasp when his hips twitch, his cock nudging at your cervix and your brows pinch at the sensation.

"Look at you." Michael groans low, his hips slowly moving and the hand on your hip moves, instead resting on your mound as his thumb circles your clit, the sensation causing you to spasm and leak even more around his cock.

"So perfect and pretty."

Your eyes move towards the hand bracing beside your head, veins bulging beneath the skin and his knuckles turning white with how tight he's gripping onto the armrest.

Your lashes flutter when he leans down to kiss you, his lips pressed against yours in a sloppy, needy kiss, his hips uncoordinated, rhythmless and so, so stuttery as his tongue brushes against yours.

Michael's trying to make the most of this situation, the scent of your body mist and his expensive cologne lingers in the air alongside that scent of fresh couch. The scent he can't wait to snuff out with cum and sweat.

"Fuck, you're so hot."

Michael breathes out, swallowing the moan that leaves your lip at the compliment and he bottles it, storing away the sound in his memories for whenever he needs it. And trust, he will.

Michael kisses you like it's his first kiss.

Like he doesn't know how.

His teeth bump against yours far too much, his incisors catch on your plump bottom lip quite a few times and his tongue tickles your oesophagus, the act which results in you letting out a sound of distaste. And he simply mutters a giggly 'sorry', before deepening the kiss, his tongue pressed against yours.

His hips slowly ease into a pace, easy and slow, rolling against yours and that blonde tuft of hair on his pubic bone brushes against your clit in tantalizing slow strokes. And you can only whine when his hands move, up your arms and his digits interlock with yours, fingers folding over one another and his hips nearly falter when your lashes flutter open, eyes meeting his in a bleary gaze.

And Michael swears his soul leaves his body when he watches your kiss swollen lips part to speak.

"...go deeper..."

Muscular hands hook around the backs of your knees, bringing your legs up to rest against Michael's broad shoulders and he leans forward, all the way until he's kissing you from between your calves.

His hips smack against the fleshy globes your ass with each brutal thrust, grinding against you in a way that has your eyes rolling back in your head and his leaky tip keeps nudging at that gooey spot and your toes curl behind his ears.

Michael smiles at the erratic pulsing of your cunt, watching the way your face screws up as your orgasm approaches you at a rate you're definitely unfamiliar with and he shifts, pressing his palms against the flesh just behind the crooks of your knees.

And he presses your legs against your chest, pillowy thighs squishing your breasts and Michael pulls out just a bit.

Enough to make you open your eyes just a bit, only wide enough to watch a clear glob of spit fall directly onto where you're split open on his cock and Michael takes a deep breath, inhaling the scent of sex in the air.

Before fucking you into the cushions.

And you come with a cry, legs locking up and body wracked with nerve endings that are all far too stimulated, and your eyes begin to get mistier, nails digging into Michael's biceps, hard enough to leave red scratches in his skin.

"Fuck— 's too much, 's too much." You pant, whining as your pussy gushes around him, wetness trickling down and soaking into the cushion beneath you.

Michael flips you onto your belly before you're even thinking coherently, your cheek mushed against the velvet as he slides back into you, cock nestled in your soaked walls as his hips piston into you, the fleshy mounds of your ass reddening with each maddening thrust.

And Michael leans down, lips latching onto the skin of your neck and he sucks marks into the sensitive flesh.

His body covers yours, thick, muscular thighs on either side of you and you're helpless beneath him. And all you can do is take the next overstimulating orgasm in stride as he hands it to you on a golden platter.

Michael can barely muffle the groan when he pulls out just enough to see that frothy ring around his cock before pushing back into you.

Slow, deep strokes to make him last longer because you're just so warm and so wet and so, so pliable beneath him.

This moment is so perfect. Nothing can ruin this—

"Booster! Justice League emergency, emergency!" Skeets' incessant alarm breaks through the orgasmic reverie, and you can't even be upset when Michael groans, his forehead falling against your shoulder and his hips still.

"Son of a bitch." He mutters before pulling out of you, still hard and leaking needily.

"Just give me 10 minutes. Please. Don't go anywhere, I'll literally throw up." Michael pleas softly, grabbing the uniform from the floating companion and you nod your head limply, continuing to melt into the cushioning of the sofa and you know that 8 minutes later, you'll be asleep.

"And don't fall asleep either. Booster out!"

It's a stupid exit but the drapes rustle when Michael disappears out the window, his flight speed immaculate and you let out a shuddering breath, eyes lazily glancing around the living room.

Two orgasms in and it's still tacky.

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