Arisia/ Green Lantern DC Comics x OC (M)

Taken from my fanfic.

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I stayed in my seat after the round table meeting, expecting someone to need to talk to me. Everyone has been during this whole funeral and led up to World War Three ordeal. Red Star did but could read my edginess and instead patted me on the shoulder, telling me everything will work out and then left. I waited about a minute and noticed Arisia push out her chair and start to leave.

Everyone else followed suit and I quickly remembered that I REALLY should talk to her as well. Chastising myself for being a little too self focused I shot out of my seat and quickened my pace to catch up with her. I half shouted, "Arisia! Wait up!"

She turned to me, an unreadable expression on her face and waited for me to catch up. I flicked my head, a tacit message for her to follow, as I walked down a set of stairs separate from everyone else. It wasn't that I was mad at any of them; I just couldn't stand all the people at the moment.

I felt a buzz on my new smart watch given to everyone for the event. Hosun who kept watch of the Tower was complaining of a hacker trolling him and needed Oracle's help. He also mentioned something about a red symbol similar to a bat sigil and Russian metal (Slaughter To Prevail) being spammed onto him. I didn't pay him any attention after a glance and put the watch on silent.

"So," I started, as we walked out onto the lightly snowing Gotham, "did you want to ride or fly ho-"

"Ride." Arisia spat out before I could finish.

Smiling, I said okay before summoning the bike she had gotten for me. Soon the red 2022 Harley Street Bob took shape and I added another seat with my modification ability. Getting on, I started and revved the engine and patted the back seat. I revved it a few more times to get the engine warmed up in the cold as Arisia climbed on and wrapped her arms around me tightly.

"Did you want a helmet?" I asked.

She released a hollow chuckle, "Neither of us need one."

"Touché."

Riding through the city, I could feel the tension, after effects of national news stations fixed on one specific event that happened in the past few days. Everyone's heads down, no one talking. Herds of people rushing away from the cold of the air of this city both naturally and politically. It felt like a castle of glass rather than an industrial organism of steel and iron.

Pulling up to an abandoned alley I heard a familiar tune of classical music. I stopped the bike and groaned at the familiar smells of death. Kicking out the kickstand on the bike I turned to Arisia and told her to stay put as I investigated. A Bluetooth speaker and the culprit phone on a cheap power bank was at the foot of the mutilated body strewn onto the wall. Half the of the person's head was replaced with a dog's head. The torso and head was so damaged I couldn't tell if they were a boy or a girl before their death. Above the body were the words, "Too Ugly" painted in blood.

I sighed at the sight, thinking this must be the cracks in this glass city. Just a few more will cause Gotham to shatter. I tried to listen to the song and it was a symphonic poem again. One I recognized, Don Juan by Richard Strauss.

The legend of Don Juan tells how, at the height of his licentious career, he seduced a girl of noble family and killed her father, who had tried to avenge her. Later, seeing a commemorative effigy on the father's tomb, he flippantly invited it to dine with him, and the stone ghost duly arrived for dinner as a harbinger of Don Juan's death. In the original Spanish tragedy, Don Juan's attractive qualities—his vitality, his arrogant courage, and his sense of humour—heighten the dramatic value of the catastrophe. The power of the drama derives from its rapid pace, the impression it gives of cumulative tension as Don Juan's enemies gradually hound him to destruction, and the awareness that the Don is goaded to defy even the ghostly forces of the unknown. In the end he refuses to repent and is eternally damned.

I snorted in disdain at the tacit slight against me. At the same time, I'm learning a bit more about the gravitas of this mess I caused. I have enemies everywhere, chasing me, and wanting me dead. What aggravated me a bit was the suggestion that hubris was what brought me here and if I didn't stop I'd perish.

Maybe… he was right. Sick as he is in sending this vague musical letter wrapped in a mutilated body in an alleyway. Could it apply to Batman or someone else though? I doubt it. Mr. Pig-Face—or his copycat— has been interested in me for a while now.

I flippantly told the others on group chat about the murder, and pinged the location before putting my watch again on silent. Not even bothering to call a porter or something. I got back up on my bike with Arisia on the back and continued to the pier looking out over Titan Tower. Arisia was quiet the entire time as I powered up my bike and crossed the strangely calm ocean waters to the island.

It wasn't until I pulled into the garage and turned off the bike that I finally said, "Arisia, I'm really sorry that I used your ring without permission. I wouldn't…" I sighed, her head still in my back as we sat on the bike, "I wouldn't want your trust in me to diminish for stealing a copy of your ring."

She barely whispered something into my back and I couldn't hear it.

"What?"

"She's gone." She repeated, not much louder, "She's really gone."

I sighed, and unwrapped her hands from me but clutched her hand as I led her inside. Disbelief was in her voice as she mumbled to herself and I sat with her on her bed and held her tight. It was then she broke and cried while clutching my suit Batman had given the guys for the funeral. She mumbled something into me again but I didn't hear her.

"What?" I asked.

"Just talk about something."

"Uh, did you hear me earlier?"

She huffed, "I don't care about the ring you-you neothanigi!"

I couldn't help but blink a few times before I laughed, "Da hell is a neothan-thingy?"

Despite her being upset still, the moment lightened her mood and she wiped her tears, laughing hollowly, "It's some swear Starfire says." She added with a sigh, "And I do care about the ring but I don't… if that makes any sense."

"Did I get you into a lot of trouble?" I asked, my gut knotting in a little bit of worry.

Just the thought of it caused a wave of disgust to wash over her face and she said, "Don't worry about it."

"That face you made is making me worry more."

"Just talk about something else, please."

"Ummm hell," I rubbed the back of my neck, "thanks for the bike? How much do I owe you? Oh wait," I remembered, "you said I owe you a favor right?"

She remembered as well, the realization was on her face. The next reaction confused me when she turned away, cupping her mouth and blushing. It took a moment of us sitting together for her to form her words. In the meantime I couldn't help but notice how she wasn't the "little girl" I had met. My conversation with Cass made me remember how she said that Arisia went through some growth spurt of some kind. Then also came the "lust at first sight" comment as well. She interrupted my thoughts, saying,

"I have this… crush on someone."

Oh no.

"I'll show you," she added, "promise you won't freak out?"

"I'm two-hundred-"

"We're kinda the same age Kevin, it's just feelings are different in Graxonite society. You haven't seen everything."

"Um, ok?"

"Ok," she walked over to her closet and opened it.

She had a bloody shrine to…

Hal Jordan? The human Green Lantern? Jesus, I thought it was me for a second. This shouldn't be too bad then.

"As you know, I merely scan hardlight clothing on like when we first flew together. So I don't keep anything in the closet. And…" she looked at me attentively, gauging my reaction, "I know how Graxonites and humans express… attraction."

Then she said, "I was hoping, since you were my friend, you could help me get… experience?"

It took me a second to realize where this was going and my eyes widened.

Oh hell no.

She wants to turn me into a rake!

(Rake is antiquated slang for a man-hoe. For possible non-English speakers, hoe is slang for a loose woman. Or a woman that sleeps with men a lot.)

I'm going to have to do the work of a man-harlot to pay for my bike?! This kicked my stress into dangerous levels. I stood up to leave and walked to the door. The feelings of this World War 3, death of a friend, the meeting of my maker, my other friend-

I stopped, my wicked mind thinking, she's giving me an outlet for all this stress. I sighed, thinking I might regret this arrangement later; if we even live till then. Turning back I returned to the spot on the bed and asked,

"When do we start?"

She practically flew to me, no she did fly to me, pulling me in by my black tie for a kiss. To be honest, it was pleasant of course but too rushed. I fell back into the bed as my hands cupped her bottom. Our lips never parted until her confidence grew and she slowed down a little.

One of my hands held her close, feeling the back of her dress she wore to the funeral as I said in her ear, "Slow or fast?"

"I-I don't know." She said but desire burned in her eyes; she wasn't wanting to go anywhere.

I unzipped the back of her dress, helping her only a little before I cupped her sides. Smiling up at her, I answered, "How about you control the pace this time."

I slipped my tie off and unbuttoned the top button. As I tossed the tie to the side she took up where I left off, unbuttoning my shirt all the way down. Before she finished I shifted myself under her, getting comfortable and unintentionally grinding her.

Her palm slid over my bulge experimentingly, a smile glowing on her face as she felt it. I pulled my shirt open and slipped off my suit and dress shirt. She began unbuckling my belt when I removed my white-T undershirt.

In nothing but my briefs and socks she didn't gasp, or moan. Rather her smile grew and a gallon of mischief glittered in her eyes. She blew a stray hair away from her face and said,

"This is so much better than I imagined."

Before I could think of a reply, she kissed just above my briefs and all the way up me. My breath shuddered, enjoying her lips on my body, making me want this. Making me want her. Just before she got to my lips she paused before slipping off her dress overhead.

"Stick your tongue out." She ordered, her hands on my chest.

I did and she sucked my tongue and began to French kiss me. My eyes fluttered in erotic ecstasy and my hands cupped her chest. I was also paranoid that her alien tongue was scary long but that almost wasn't worth mentioning. I was taken in as she sat atop me in basically a black two piece and her thigh-high hoes.

Every little movement as we felt each other caused us to grind the other. Every taste of the other's skin made us hungrier. After a prolonged session of me feeling her chest I couldn't help but smile after figuring out she was a B-cup.

Eventually the mutual hunger couldn't be held back any longer. As she slipped off my briefs I slipped off her bra. She didn't waste much time to take off her panties and slowly lower herself onto my shaft.

I couldn't help but gasp, gripping the sheets, she was so tight. Enjoying the effect I had on her body, her face and the view of her chest I saw she was about to scream. Cupping her mouth, and holding her close; I tenderly shushed her as she stretched herself on me.

After rolling her hips on my member her rhythm started hard and slow as she humped me. My hands cupped her bottom and pulled her deeper into me until she started going faster. We drank of each other's sins until our energy faded.