#Slade Wilson Fluff

[i-yap]

Slade Wilson X batsis!reader

sorry this was a long gap, i had class registrations which was like hunger games( I got the exact classes I wanted !!)

Daddy vibes? yes. I mean slade is older than bruce?? Im assuming you are like twin age of jason ...so he is much much older to you.

The only two ways that I can think where the batfamily or you don't assume its all a trick, a strategy of some sort is if - 1. he met you undercover and had no idea who you were, 2. genuinely gave up his life for you

I also love the idea of slade getting close to you for the sake of your batfam and to get info/leverage but ends up falling in love . Then spends forever to convince the rest that he genuinely loves you.

there are so many problems that the batfam brings up- 1. he is a villain, 2. he is double you age at least, 3. this could be an elaborate plan, 4. he is incapable of love for all his past crimes.

But in the soft moments when he pulls you to the inside of the sidewalk, holds you hair when your washing your face, offers you his choice when u don't like what u picked up to drink/eat, kisses your ring finger as if just the mere thought of marrying you could heal his recent stab wound.

Its when u wake up to see him already looking at you or when he strokes small patters on you back and when you ask him what he is thinking he says something so deep, so romantic, so vulnerable and genuine- yea you trust him

his love language is acts of service. He lowkey sucks at the rest but when I mean service, I mean everything. ties you shoelaces, learns to cook your favorite meal, burns cities in the shape of I love you on the world map...everything.

[froggyfics]

Play Fighting

You have a training session with Slade.

This was suppose to come out in September 2023...It's now February 2024. We're gonna just be happy this is finally completed.

Additional note at the bottom

I categorized this as a fem!reader, just because I mentioned “girl” once in this fic. So, I hope that those who prefer gender neutral readers will still enjoy this. 

Feedback is always appreciated. Feel free to message me privately or comment below to let me know what you think. Constructive criticism is always welcome! 

Pairing: Slade Wilson x fem!reader

Theme: Fluff

Word Count: 1,279

You grunt as your back crudely hits the mat once again. The pain shocks your system, but you’re not at all surprised that you’re in this position.

“I told you, I’m not good at this stuff,” you grumble.

“Get back up,” he commands.

Rage surges through your body and if looks could kill, he would be six feet under already.  He laughs heartily, with his palm clutching his chest.

“You think you can intimidate me, doll? A little girl like you?”

His mocking tone acts as a battery for you, and your depleted energy disappears. You grab the sword that you dropped on the ground and position yourself in a battle stance. 

“Make sure you protect your chin,” he instructs.

You ignore his suggestion.

“Protect your chin,” he repeats.

“Protect your own chin,” you mutter.

He doesn’t respond with words, but instead lunges at you. The speed at which he travels makes you shriek, and you can’t help but drop your sword and cover yourself with your arms. You glue your eyes shut, waiting for the impact.

It never comes. Seconds pass before you slowly open your eyes once again. He’s just standing there with a smirk on his face and his arms crossed. His hair droops down due to his sweat and is sticking out in different directions. The rash guard he has on clings to his body - his muscles barely contained by the thin polyester. The sight of him in front of you makes you salivate, but of course, you can’t let him know that you’re desperately attracted to him. You have an intense crush on him, but you know better than to fall for those ocean blue eyes – sorry – eye. 

“Stop looking at me like that, Slade! C’mon,” you exclaim, as you pick your weapon back up. You can’t stand how he looks pityingly at you. “Fight me like a man!” You try to goad him, but Slade, ever the patient one, refuses to indulge you. 

You beg, plead, and even shout expletives at him to resume the training session. Slade continues to stand in front of you, arms crossed, with that knowing smile on his face. 

The situation is more frustrating given that your gaze falls onto his lips every few seconds. You’re so angry that you can’t control your own impulses. It’s cruel that a man with such a hideous personality could look so attractive.

Well, if he’s not going to fight you, you’ll have to bring the fight to him.

You leap towards him, sword in hand, stabbing the air repeatedly as Slade easily dodges your every attack. He’s light on his feet for a man of his stature. Within seconds, you can feel your fatigue overcome you, especially in your arm.

“Getting tired?”

“Not at all,” you heave. You’re definitely tired, but you won’t let Slade in on that information.

“You can tell me if ya get tired. I know pretty girls like you aren’t used to being pushed around like this,” he purrs.

Thankfully, your face is already red from the training session, otherwise, his comment would’ve made you look like a tomato. 

“Whatever.”

Something in the air changes once the word leaves your mouth. Slade no longer has a playful smirk on his face. He neither smiles nor frowns, but his eye gives away his true feelings. He’s glaring at you.

He lunges at you once more. This time, you don’t cower. You desperately swipe at him with your sword, but it’s useless against him. 

He’s suddenly within arm’s reach, and he slaps your wrist with an open palm. You nearly lose your grip on your sword’s handle, but you recover quickly. 

“I like you girl, but you got one hell of a bratty attitude. Don’t think I won’t teach you a lesson if I got to.”

“You seemed fine with my attitude not too long ago.” You struggle against his grasp, but he has a firm grip on you.

“Yeah? Well, my patience has run out.”

“That’s too bad, I like giving you an attitude.”

He forcibly yanks your arm, and suddenly you’re dangerously close to him. You’re so close that you can smell him. He smells a bit of sweat, with an undercurrent of…vanilla?

“I like correcting attitudes.”

A polite smile crosses your face. “Wait till I tell everyone that the big, bad Deathstroke uses girly body wash. You smell like a bakery.”

Pain radiates up and down the column of your spine. Your back hits the mat before you even register that Slade had leg sweeped you.

For the millionth time in this training session, he has the advantage. He hovers above you in a lunge - triumph oozing out of him. 

You want to humble him so badly. 

He clutches his hip after you punch the bony part of his pelvis as hard as you could. The punch distracts him momentarily, but it’s long enough for you to slither your way out from under him. 

For good measure, you slap him once. Redness immediately begins to surge on his cheek as his capillaries break. You know you’re definitely going to regret doing that later, but you just couldn't resist!

You swing your sword and stop just before it connects to his neck.

Slade wobbles for a moment, still in a lunge, but rights himself within a few seconds. His gaze moves from the sword to you and back to the sword several times. 

It’s at this moment that you think you’ve gone too far, specifically with the slap. Sure, you’re cheeky with Slade every once in a while, but he's always real quick to set you straight when he’s not in the mood.

Based on his expression, he’s not in the mood right now.

However, he’s right where you want him. The upper hand you have - however momentary - makes you all the more confident to do what you’ve been wanting to do for so long.

“Kiss me.”

Slade rarely gets caught by surprise, so you revel in his stupor. “You have a sword to my throat,” he responds with an air of disbelief.

You roll your eyes. “Don’t act like you can’t get out of this situation.”

He doesn’t move. You continue to stare at one another. Sweat gathers in the crevices between your palm and the sword handle, loosening your grip. You swallow loudly. Has it always been this hot in here? Did you just make it creepy? Can he not be this damn irresistible?

“Kiss me,” you whine, a bit more desperately this time.

He sighs deeply, taking a moment to mull over his options.

“Fine,” he says. He leans forward to reach your lips, and you raggedly bend over to meet him halfway. The sharp blade presses into his neck, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

When he’s near centimeters from your face, a great idea crosses your mind. An idea that would solidify your victory for this training session. You let him lean even more closely to you - so close that his eye begins to close in preparation for the kiss. Once his eye closes, you remove the sword from his neck and swiftly move to the side.

The sword acted as a barrier for Slade to keep him upright - once the sword was removed, he fell forward. 

Any other person would have laughably landed on their face, but Slade, ever the skillful mercenary, plants his palms on the floor and pulls himself into a half-plank position. 

He turns his face to look at you with a look of annoyance.

You unceremoniously drop the blade and place your hands on your hips. “Oh, Slade, you take things way too seriously. We were only just play fighting!”

Note: I got the prompt "kiss me...you have a sword to my throat" from @celestialwrites however!!!!! I cannot find for the life of me the exact post that inspired me

[mottemort]

A good boy, Jason and Slade

[nosyrobin]

If Slade ever treated reader, who is the little brother of Raven. Just like how teen titans 2003 treated Raven. Just imagine Damian’s reaction to how traumatized reader is. Damian would personally be on vengeance mode 24/7. Legit not taking breaks so he can tear outs slade’s other eyes and head off as a trophy. He would have left over assassins surrounding reader’s room, everything. He’s not letting that bastard touch his raven.

(Idk if this seem a little yandere-ish. It can seem like it to others people views who knows.)

[gothamite-rambler]

Slade Wilson, negotiating with Oliver Queen

Slade's on the phone with Oliver Queen, while Roy, dressed in his Arsenal suit, is tied up in the background.

Roy: Has he hung up yet?

Slade: Not yet.

Roy (disgruntled): Oh... He usually drops the call when I say I need him for something, but yeah sure listen to the insane murderer... that stings a bit.

Meanwhile, Oliver, holding his phone, sighed and rubbed his temples as Slade laughed at Roy's comment.

Slade (on the phone): I have Roy Harper. If you want him back unharmed, I’ll need ten thousand dollars.

Roy (indignant): Whoa, whoa, hold up! You think I’m only worth ten grand? Do you even know who my father is?

Slade (to Roy): You think they’d pay more for me?

Roy: Damn right!

Oliver shook his head, eyes closed in frustration. Sitting beside him, Bruce Wayne clenched his jaw, his irritation growing, and shot Oliver a withering look that clearly conveyed his disbelief at Oliver's current antics.

Roy: MAKE IT ONE MILLION—

Oliver (shouting): ROY, STOP! I’m not about to see my net worth tank just to save you!

Bruce (appalled): What is wrong with you?

Slade (amused): I mean, if you want to up the ante—

Oliver (furious): I will end this call if you even think about—

Bruce snatched the phone away, then smacked Oliver on the back of the head ashamed of the man sitting next to him.

Bruce: Is ten thousand still available if I can get it sent in the next hour?

Roy (excited in the background): Is that Bruce? Bruce, send them one million dollars!

Bruce: What have you done to this kid?

Oliver (raising a hand, avoiding Bruce's gaze): Don’t judge me. He got that from your adopted seed.

Bruce: Either I send this money or your send this money and if I send this money I'm beating your ass for being an awful father currently.

Oliver: I’m not sending one million dollars!

Bruce (frustrated): Your net worth is three times that, you jackass!

Oliver: Yeah, well, my son hasn’t died once, Invader Zim!

Bruce: For god’s sake, you kicked him out when he was addicted to heroin!

Slade: I'd have done the same. Druggies are unreliable. I made my daughter cut her eye out to prove her loyalty, so I get where you’re coming from, Ollie North.

Roy could be heard laughing in the background. Bruce covered his face, shaking his head, while Oliver’s cheeks flushed red as he grappled with the implication that Slade agreed with him.

Oliver: I can’t believe I’m about to concede to a convicted hebephile. Damn it, I’ll send one million.

Slade: Yes!

Bruce was already texting Jason Slade’s coordinates and informing him that Roy had been kidnapped.

Bruce: Well, at least a predator didn’t side with me.

Oliver: Oh, shut up! Like you haven’t agreed with him. Mr. “I won’t kill my son’s murderer!”

Bruce: I wasn’t the one who kicked their son out of the house, ignored them for three years, and hung up when they confronted a child abuser!

Oliver: Oh yeah well... you're youngest son is weird!

Bruce: Calling you a weird, old man is not being weird! He's observant and honest!

Slade chuckled, amused as he listened to their bickering, fully aware of his own failures as a father and reveling in the chaos it created.

[oh-surprise-its-me]

Slade not liking to label what they are but always bringing something back for Dick when he’s been out of town. Whether that be jewelry, clothing or just a cute note pad.

Dick thinking it’s bribes for not running to Batman and telling secrets, but Dick is still falling in love with Slade anyways. (It’s actually just bc Slade is constantly thinking of Dick.)

It goes on for months until Dick has breakdown over a vintage stuffed elephant Slade gets him from around the Romania/Hungary area and starts sobbing and begging Slade to stop fucking with him.

Slade who up until this point thought he was being fairly open with his emotions realizes he’s a fucking idiot and Jesus Christ, Dick is traumatized.

[pekejscatbed]

Lazy Day | Slade Wilson x gn! Reader

DAD BOD SLADE SUPREMACY HE IS A DILF HE IS DADDY SO WHERE THE FUCK IS HIS TUMMY GIVE MY FAVORITE OLD MAN THE BIG ASS STOMACH HE DESERVES YOU COWARDS- *cough cough* sorry guys, idk where that came from :/

info/warnings: gender neutral reader, soft Slade, cuddles, reminiscing, domestic fluff, weight gain, Slade has a dad bod and you can pry that headcanon from my cold dead hands

batman masterlist

———

You lay in bed together, Slade sitting up against the pillows in a pair of black boxer briefs and nothing else, and you partially on top of him, face buried in his naked stomach as he gently runs his fingers through your hair. 

Slade has gained weight since the two of you met, with you cooking for him on his days away from the mercenary life and keeping him well fed. His stomach is bigger now after the couple of years you've been together, now rounder than when the two of you went on your first date and hanging down over his hip line. He's still strong, muscles still as big as they were years ago- bigger, even- but now they're covered in layers of fat that you absolutely adore; you love the weight he's gained, love the way his arms are now squishy when you hold onto him in public, love watching the small jiggle to his thighs when he walks around the house in nothing but his boxers, love burying your face into his growing tummy on lazy days like today, like you are now. 

"Hm?" You tilt your head up as you exit your mind, thoughts dissipating as you look up at Slade in question. 

"Asked what you're thinking about, sweetheart." His voice is soft as he repeats himself, looking down at you and smiling when your eyes meet his one green eye. 

You smile back, humming softly. "You."

[codiecoda]

He'll be fine Slade- Parental Slade Wilson Slex Fic

I've been pretty busy writing my Slex Flufftober fics but this was a fic I just had to write. I hope you enjoy it while I continue working towards a Slex filled October for you all.

[shyinkbunny]

Hair Pets: Super Effective

“Ok, I have eyes on him. Give it 10, then proceed as plan- Wait…is that,”

“Hood, what is it?”

“…uck! It’s-”

The ground shook – a thundering eruption cracked in his ear – almost muffling the pained scream over the coms.

“Hood!”

Stuck watching from the rooftop of another as the warehouse crumbled in on itself.

The silence that followed for minutes as-

Slade rubbed aggressively at his eye, efforts futile in banishing the reminiscing his wondering brain kept strolling back too. He pulled his attention back to the contract. One he found himself increasingly and uncommonly stressed about.

He and Jason were working this one together, and on a notably rare occasions one of his source's intel was incorrect.

Unfortunately, that fuck-up resulted in an unanticipated explosion and collapsing building with Jason’s leg getting a rain of shrapnel, a broken fibula, a river of bruises to his side, and probable concussion with how hard his head cracked against the cement floor. Fortunately, he had his helmet or Slade doubted highly he’d be walking away with a mild case of the dizzies.

If he would have walked away at all.

Slade’s fingernails dug into his eyebrows and the skin directly below it. The pressure in his head building.

Plus, it was a very large setback in the contract’s time frame. The setback is what had him so on edge right now, obviously.

He had to locate his target again, find a new reliable source, and reevaluate the plan’s whole execution now that he was one man short. All without the assistance of Red Hood. Two years ago this would have been no fucking issue but after two years of dating, and three of working together so closely, Slade started to depend on Red Hood as his second more than he even realized. The kid’s resources, smarts, and vast background experiences gave him different ways of looking at problems even Slade fell short of. Turns out when you mix street smarts, bat teachings, hero training, and Al Ghul brainwashing you get an interesting ass mix. One helpful with planning and even more so in the direct heat of the field.

That being said, he was still getting Red Hood’s “perspective” on the case as short of sedating him for the next 96 hours, Jason wasn’t stepping completely back from the contract nor from worming his way into the details of the case. After threats of sedation Jason finally, begrudgingly, relented and camped out on the couch to get some rest.

Still, it leaves the issue that Slade was a body and two skilled hands shorter than he anticipated being. It’s fine. No issue. He’s Deathstroke, not just some mercenary, but the mercenary who always completed his contracts. All’s well and his head is screwed on just fine, thank you very much Wintergreen.

He let out another breath, fingers now pinching the bridge between his eyes. Starting to go a little over 76 hours with no sleep, he was stretching his three-day limit thin, but still aware he was too wired to actually accomplish any rest even if he tried.

A low, “hey,” drifted his way from the couch.

“Hm,” he answered back without looking from the blueprints he had in hand.

“Slade, come over ‘ere”

“I’m busy,” Slade gruffed back, the lack of sleep making his voice a tinge more gravelly. His brows furrowed when he shuffled through the piles of paper, not finding the damn shipping list times. His finger burrowed into his left temple like he was trying to physically push the steady aching thrum away. The dull electrical buzz from the dining room’s shitty hanging lamp seemed to be growing louder with every damn minute.

“…Slade”

And what the hell was Billy doing? He said he would contact Lenardo. He owed Deathstroke one and if he was giving Billy any shit collecting-

“Slade”

“Enough,” he slammed the papers he had in hand down, the table’s wood creaking under the sudden angry pressure. “I don’t have time to fuck around,” he spit out, turning his head just enough to snarl at the others direction, voice growing louder with every word. “If someone didn’t run recklessly ahead than I wouldn’t be pulling some half-ass solution from the thin fucking air to patch up this monumental fuck-up.”

His voice carried and filled the safe house dining room and echoed down the halls; the yell sounded towering in the small apartment. But the silence afterwards seemed even heavier, pressing into every nook and cranny in an almost suffocating way. The tension felt like a physical weight on Slade’s stomach.

Fuck. That was….he didn’t mean….

Slade let out a breath that felt bone deep while leaning back into the creaking wooden chair. He pried open his clenching fist around the now crinkled and torn papers and pushed his forehead in his other hand propped up on the armrest. He squeezed his eyes, hidden behind his hand, shut so tightly he started to see white spots.

Shit. His head wasn’t on right.

“Slade,” the voice was soft but stern, feeling weighty in the damning silence of the room.

Slade stopped being a coward and finally turned to face the other man patched up and camping out on the couch. One who’s been watching Slade run circles on the damn job for the last five hours.

Jason’s head was leaning back against the couch’s headrest, expression and body looking deceptively relaxed, but those ocean eyes pinned him. “Come here,” his voice was low and smooth, but solid. Commanding, but grounding.

Slade didn’t fight the request this time, his burning bitter words still scattered like ash on his tongue. He raised from the kitchen chair to make his way to the other man. He owes him that much at least for his piss poor temper right now.

The kids always made extra effort to be attentive on any of Slade’s contracts to prevent any careless shit exactly like this from happening. The need for Hood to check-in and supervise every move he made was banished long ago with Slade’s growing confidence in his ability and his judgement. Jason was competent and careful, and unlike the bats who like to micromanage absolutely everyone, Slade trusted his decisions. And he’s aware that Jason only went ahead to scope the warehouse’s shipment because he knew the place was clear. Was supposed to be clear. According to Slade’s debrief.

A few of Slade’s knuckles cracked under the strain of his curled fist.

They were supposed to go cave diving after this. Find a nice natural hot spring he could defile the younger man in. His gaze ran over the bulky leg cast. But with his damn injuries now, he frowned. That same weight resting heavier on his stomach.

“Hey.” A tug on his hand drew his eyes away from the cast to Jason’s softer gaze. “Come sit down with me.” He motioned to a spot next to him with his head.

“Kid, I can’t. I’m on a time crunch,” Slade’s voice miles softer than before. A whisper in comparison.

“You’ve been running yourself ragged and still haven’t made any progress. You’ll feel better if you get some rest.”

Slade shook his head. It would be pointless, he’s still too wired. He felt like he was gonna crawl out of his damn skin. No way would his mind settle enough to sleep.

“I’m too wired.”

“Just a bit,” Jason’s voice lulled and hand tugged down lightly on Slade’s.

“Jason,” Slade breathed out, tired.

The other man in response tried to sit up but winced from the wound on his side. Slade was propped on the edge of the couch by his side in an instant. He lifted the shirt Jason pilfered from his duffle bag and inspected the bandages for any pulled stitches. “What hurts?” he demanded. Maybe he did break or crack a rib. They said it should have only been some deep bruising, but-

“My poor feelings, asshole. Now lay down with me.”

Slade looked back up at Jason to see a smirk and self-satisfied look and not an ounce of pain. Little shit. Slade glared. He didn’t find feigning pain to be fucking amusing. Especially since it was his contract, his fucking intel that– his jaw clenched.

Jason ignored Slade’s deepening scowl and aggravation to tug on his shoulders until the bigger man was laying with his back to the younger man’s chest and between his spread legs. Between Jason’s stubbornness, the steady weight on Slade’s stomach, and the memory of Jason screaming out in pain that was playing in his head like some fucked-up background music, Slade complied a lot easier than he would any other time. Or with any other person.

But as easy as he had relented to laying back, he was still on the figurative fence about staying; his body still tense, playing at the idea of getting up and back to the damn contract.

Yet with every passing moment enclosed in Jason’s arms, warm and solid, and the steady rise and fall of his chest against Slade’s back, and those nimble fingers of his running through Slade’s hair, scratching lightly at his scalp, his body started to unfurl bit by bit. Not realizing he was subconsciously matching his breath to Jason’s until the younger man breathed in another slow, deep, steadying breath and Slade followed, then let it out at the same rate.

After about a dozen breaths like that and the continuous fingers running through his strands in a lazy, relaxing manner, he finally grumbled out a, “What are you watching?”

“Lord of the Rings.”

Slade’s eyebrows furrowed slightly. He thought Jay was bingeing that show with the obnoxiously nasally nanny with the horrible laugh. He didn’t get Jason’s amusement from the show except it functioning as a brain numbing, to the point of mind melting, way to pass the time. (Although, he did see the amusement he got from the sharp-witted butler). Still, this worked better for him. He’d much rather let his brain vegetate to the background noise of the clanking metal of swords and overdramatic war cries of some dwarf man.

Slade let his eyes fall shut to the lulling feeling of soft touches and comforting scratches carting through his bangs and hair. A thumb brushing featherlight over his forehead and massaging at his temple just-so that his throbbing headache stilled for a moment.

He would indulge the kid just a bit longer, then he’ll get back to work. Just a bit. He let his mind haze and drift, and thought he felt something cover lightly over his body and tuck around his sides but didn’t bother to pay it any mind.

Slade woke to a low voice in his ear and small shake. “Slade, hey”. He blinked a few times. It was much darker than it was before. Where the previously high sun was coloring the world in golden hues, now it cast crawling shadows on everything as it sunk nearly below horizon. A slight tug to his ends tried to draw his attention again, “hey, that sounds like Wintergreen’s ringtone.”

Slade blinked twice more, then wrenched himself out of the cocoon of warmth and comfort Jason seemingly nested him in. Checking the phone, it was indeed Billy’s contact name blinking on the white screen. Slade slid the icon to the side accepting the call and seeing what intel the older man was able to find for him.

After 12 or so minutes later, and a much clearer picture of where his target Houdinied his ass to and what his new plans entailed, their conversation was wrapping up. “Hmm. Good. But Billy?” Slade bit out before the call ended.

“Yes?”

“My previous source, the one that was covering this case? Find me his location.” The unspoken intent clear through the hard words.

“Of course,” Bill said only after a second of silence, then the line cut.

That little shit almost got Jason killed with his information. Yeah. He’ll be paying him a visit.

He checked the time. About four, going on five, hours past what it was, hours of him actually achieving some sleep. He assumed it would have been more if Jason didn’t wake him for the call. Just from those few hours, he already felt loads better; clearer headed and less like he was ready to vibrate out of his skin.

Slade looked back at the other man who from the looks of it rearranged himself slightly more spread out, additional space now that he wasn’t sharing the couch with Slade’s bulk, which now that he looked he was kind of amazed that the smaller couch fit the both of them. Jason must have been squished to some extent. He frowned at the thought. If he made any of his wounds worse so Slade could have a cat nap, Slade’s going to be aggravated. This safe house unfortunately wasn’t one of their better ones, but it did in the pinch. He’ll make sure the next one is more comfortable.

Not being able to see Jay’s face, just the back of his head, but the slight tilt of its direction towards Slade’s showed he was ease-dropping in on the conversation. No surprise. Part nosy-bat, part inquisitive-brat.

As he started to make his way back to the couch, Jason’s head tilted backwards at his approach till his head almost hung off the armrest completely; an act that always compelled Slade with the desire to lean down and plant a kiss square on those teasing lips. A fact he’s almost positive the kid knew and possibly abused. Didn’t matter much though. If these last few hours alone didn’t expose Jason’s remarkable ability to read Slade, he’s not sure what would. It’s a good thing he didn’t plan on letting the brat go anytime soon, if ever, or the arresting amount of knowledge he has on Slade’s character would be fucking alarming.

But now? Now there was a strange sort of peace, of contentment, of ease, at the awareness he held. The brat made him feel a billion things. Amusement, confusion, frustration, amazement, pride, unease, disappointment, anticipation. A lust for his mind, body, and attention, and a carnal hunger so fervent he thought it would burn through his veins at times. A billion different things Slade could have seen the passionate, lively, fierce man stir in him.

But grounded and soothed would have never been near the list. Because when the hell has anyone been able to accomplish that with Slade? Well, besides Billy. Even with Addy’s attempts at comfort, it felt administrative at times.

Yet it never felt like being handled or manipulated by Jason. Like Slade was a variable one needed to manage. The anarchic, dangerous super soldier that needed to be contained…pacified…appeased.

No, in those rare moments of chaos and overwhelming consciousness, when his mind wouldn’t stop running over what had happened and what could happen. Running over every aspect and possible outcome, when it relived every sensation of each moment, even ones he’d rather gouge out of his head then remember, it was Jason that gave him a foundation to be grounded to. Like a single touch would make the world stop spinning for five fucking seconds.

“Wintergreen give any good new intel?” Jason’s arm was slung behind his head, gripping the armrest to give himself more leverage to hold his head back, his other hand fiddling with the tv remote.

Slade hummed a confirmation when he reached him. Leaning down to press a deeply craved kiss to those easily accessible lips. He lifted slightly; arms braced on both sides of Jason’s head to bracket his brat between them. Jason’s gaze was steady and soft - happy - but a seriousness edged into them.

“Hey,” his voice almost a whisper, but held the sureness as if he had yelled them. “I got hurt. It sucked, but it happens. We patch up, we get pissed, and then we finish what we started.” His gaze pinning once again. “So, you’re going to go out there, you’re gonna finish the job – remind them exactly why Deathstroke’s reputation is what it is – then you’re gonna come back and make it up to me.” His small smirk and voice held the sureness as if he’d seen the future and already watched it happen.

Slade wasn’t fooled. He knew the kid didn’t really hold him responsible for his injury, like he said, shit happens. But it gave Slade one more thing he had control of. Another way to get him out of his head and past and focused on the next step. Jason may bitch about Slade’s penchant for control, but these little indulgences certainly never do anything to dissuade his habits.

Slade let out a breathy chuckle and leaned down to rumble in his ear, “Then I advise you to get some sleep, Brat.” His tone low, deep, and spoke of lots of heady intentions.

He grinned at the step up in Jay’s heartbeat and the slight rise of color that tinted his cheeks. Slade’s lips brushing over the freckled and blushed skin.

“Promises, promises. Go to work, slacker,” Jason grunted playfully and nudged his head at Slade’s. He lifted his head back up, pulling his attention and eyes back to the show with the inappropriately dressed nanny and her employer bickering at each other. He’s so weird.

Slade laid one final firm kiss to the side of his cheek, making sure to drag his beard rough and forcefully across; just the way he hates.

“Ack! Slade, get off you ass,” he protested and squirmed away from the angry scratchy facial hair.

The mercenary strolled away with a smirk, smile pulling wider at the mumbled, “ornery asshole,” he heard whispered behind him, but he knew was said with a smile.

Slade cracked his neck and sat back down at the kitchen table. He’ll look into this new information Billy gave him, then in about an hour or so order them some food. The oddity he calls his partner always gets strange cravings for Chinese food when he’s benched and the egg rolls from the place down the street are pretty good. Slade glanced at the clock. Yeah, he’s got more than enough time. He’ll be fine. Red Hood may be out of commission on the field, but where it counts, Jason still gots him covered.

[Author's Note: Slade is all talk. He makes Jason heal a lot more before they do anything spicy. It’s all cuddles and getting spoiled. Question is who is being spoiled – Jason or Slade? (Hint: Jason only gets spoiled when he lets you spoil him.)]

[freedvmrouge]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: DCU (Comics) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Roy Harper/Jason Todd/Slade Wilson, Roy Harper/Slade Wilson, Roy Harper/Jason Todd, Jason Todd/Slade Wilson Characters: Roy Harper, Slade Wilson, Jason Todd Additional Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha Roy Harper, Alpha Slade Wilson, Omega Jason Todd, Dom/sub Undertones, Subspace, roy and slade's alpha pheromones basically heighten jason's omega subby-ness, Domestic Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Hand Feeding, Caretaking, Sub Jason Todd, Established Relationship, POV Roy Harper, POV Jason Todd, POV Slade Wilson, POV Alternating, hints at dom roy/sub slade Summary:

Roy comes home to his partners, and the entire place is filled with comforting pheromones and safety. Roy and Slade take care of Jason amidst his slip into said pheromone-induced subspace.

[froggyfics]

Slade Wilson/Deathstroke Masterlist

Fluff = 💚

Angst = 🧪

Smut = 🍉

Play Fighting 💚 Slade Wilson x fem!reader, word count: 1,279 You have a training session with Slade.

[thefightingbull]

I have returned...

I have been away from fandoms and tumblr and even from Archive but I want to write. I want to keep writing. So if you have prompts or ideas, if you are familiar with my works and know my pairings, let me know if there's something I can write for you.

[dxrkcorpse]

This was purely my entertainment purpose but kinda wanted to share heh…

Rose was my last minute put in…

I wanted to fix and edit more of it but my canvas crashed and destroyed so I can’t fix…

[gothamite-rambler]

"Father, I'm not with Nightwing!" Rose denied with anger.

Rose Wilson (answering her phone with an annoyed tone): Father, what?!

Slade: Wow, no greetings? I called you.

Rose (sighing): Hello Father... What is it? I'm... incredibly... busy.

Slade: Why have you betrayed me?

Rose breaths heavy with Jason on top of her.

Rose (confused): What?

Slade: You know what I am talking about.

Rose: I don't and ... busy at the moment.

Slade: Okay, you've brought down my hand. How dare you take Nightwing as a partner?!

Rose: What?!

Jason: What- Whoa!

Jason falls off the bed, grunting when he hit the ground. Rose sat up, readjusting her shirt.

Rose: I am not with him!

Slade: Don't lie to me! I've heard you've been canoodling with a member from the batfamily! That weakling is the only one I know of. What will you do to regain my trust?

Rose: Oh good Lord. Red Hood, I'm with Red Hood! He's not Nightwing. I would not be with Nightwing and not just because I'd 'lose your trust', but because he is not even in my radar and you'd definitely kill him.

Jason: I'm used to pain, but I'd rather not be killed again.

Rose: Hood, shush. That's him with me at the... Gym.

Slade: Red Hood? Hood? The red helmet man?

Rose (sly): I mean that's one of his suits.

Slade: Okay... I've heard mixed information about him. Think I met him once. Killed by the Joker- That's why you wanted me to beat him up?!

Jason: You did what?

Rose (sighing): Yes, I should've taken this off speaker.

Slade (focusing on the topic): Underhanded, manipulative... I'm proud of you, Roswell.

Rose: My name is just Rose.

Slade: I said that. As for this Hood man... I don't trust him, but I hate the Joker, but he's a member of the batfamily. Tsk, you're making this hard for me, Daisy.

Rose (sighing, frustrated): Rose.

Slade: Uh huh, said that.

Rose: If it helps he doesn't completely follow Batman's 'no-kill' rule.

Slade: It's a start. I'll be monitoring this relationship with my good eye, but if he brings your allegiance to their side, I will gut him like a fish and no green water will bring him back to life.

Jason: The fuck?

Rose: Okay, thanks father. My allegiance stays with you.

Slade: It better stay that way.

Rose ends the call and rubs her forehead as Jason sits next to her.

Rose: He's insane, I'm sorry.

Jason: I already knew enough about him and we did meet, rude he doesn't remember me. Let's just say I'm not shocked he's like that. No sorry needed.

Jason kisses Rose on the cheek then he chuckles.

Jason: He thought you were hooking up with Dick.

Rose: Yeah, I almost vomited when he said that.

Jason (chuckling): You tossed me to the ground, by the way. Ouch.

Rose (coy): Oh like I haven't done that in the past.

Jason kissed her neck.

Jason: You got him to attack the Joker?

Rose: Yup, lengthened his sentence too and I heard the clown had to eat his food through a straw.

Jason: You're so hot to me right now.

Rose: You don't have to state the obvious.

Rose giggles as she snuggles against Jason's chest. He rubs her back as they relax.

[oh-surprise-its-me]

Sladick trying to out gift each other

So you might be asking “Mack why would Dick and Slade be in a gift off? And I’d say take this idea with quite a bit of intoxication in mind”

Slade gets Dick earrings, Dick gets him a necklace.

Slade gets him a suit, Dick gets him a new gun case.

Slade gets him a puppy with the promise of getting him a therapy training so he can help when Dick or him has nightmares, Dick gets him piranhas with a note that said ‘they are multipurpose <3’

It keeps going on and on for about a year until they both are staring at each other holding ring boxes because what’s the best gift besides declaring to the world you want to be with this person for eternity.

[bluejaysandblackbats]

An Oyster's Pearl

Fandom: DC Comics

Summary: Shortly after moving in with Joseph Wilson, Grant Wilson makes friends with a fellow pledge for a fraternity. During this time, Grant grapples with realizations about his childhood trauma, his sexuality, and his relationships with his father and siblings.

Chapters: 13/?

Characters: Grant Wilson, Joseph Wilson, Rose Wilson, Dick Grayson, Slade Wilson, William Randolph Wintergreen, Original Character(s)

Relationships: Grant Wilson/Original Character, DickJoey

Additional Tags: University AU, No Capes AU, Angst, Deaf Joseph Wilson, Fluff and Angst, Romance, Grant Wilson has a Sexuality Crisis, Frat Boy Grant Wilson

Chapter Thirteen: Mating Call

Slade wasn't there when I dropped Rose off. So, I went home and called Lixin. "Hello?" Lixin answered.

"Lixin, I—. If you're busy, I can call back later," I stammered.

"I'm not busy... I was about to hop in the shower, but that can wait," Lixin replied. My cheeks warmed up at the thought of him covered in soap suds. "Grant? Earth to Grant Wilson."

I blinked hard and took a breath. "Can you—?" I took a breath. "I wanna—. I—. Can I—?"

"Grant, I'm housesitting for my sister until next weekend. Would you like to come over?" Lixin interrupted. I ran a hand over my face.

"Yeah," I replied.

"You sure have got a way with words!" Lixin teased. "Listen, are you alone?"

I made a soft noise. "Grant, are you alone?" Lixin asked.

"Yeah," I answered.

The noise Lixin made after I answered made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. "Is it okay with you if I get comfortable?" Lixin questioned. I lay back on my bed as I tried to collect myself.

"Sure," I replied.

"It's been a little while since I've done this... Know how tight it feels? And hot?" Lixin asked. "I've been fighting the urge to get my hands sticky since that day in my dorm. I can't stop thinking about you... And your fingers... And your neck." I heard him unzip his pants.

I absentmindedly started caressing the front of my jeans. I put the phone on speaker, not thinking someone would hear us. "I can't help myself," Lixin mumbled, "Thinking about your lips-. I'm already so hard for you."

"Lixin?" I whispered.

"Want me to stop?" Lixin asked.

"No," I mumbled as I unbuttoned my jeans.

"Beg me," Lixin commanded. His voice was so sultry, so severe. I stuck my hand down my pants.

"Lixin," I moaned without meaning to. His name felt good coming from my mouth. Tongue and throat and teeth and throat and the 'n' on the roof of my mouth. "Lixin, please... Don't stop." It was almost as if I could feel his body over mine, warm and welcoming. His soft, wet lips on my neck. He didn't say anything. "Please don't stop. Please." The suspense of wanting to hear his voice again made me hot enough to shamelessly pull my dick out of my pants. I started jacking off with one hand and pressing my fingers against the hickeys he gave me with the other. "Lixin—."

"Are you touching yourself?" Lixin asked. His voice was much softer this time.

"Yes," I panted as I let go of my dick. It bobbed against my t-shirt, and I clenched my fists. I took my thumb and wiped the precum from my tip. I wanted to hold onto that feeling for as long as possible. I was so close to the edge I could taste it. "Lixin... I've never felt this good before."

"Yeah? I bet you'd feel even better with your dick in my mouth," Lixin whispered.

My head felt so tight I thought I'd cum at the sound of his voice. I took in a sharp breath and squeezed my dick in my hand. "Easy," I moaned. Lixin chuckled.

"I wish I was there, watching you," Lixin replied, "I can't wait to see you and touch you for real." My phone pinged, and I opened my eyes and glanced down.

"Did you send me something?" I asked.

"Mmmmm... Mhm... Think of it as a visual aid," Lixin whispered. I swallowed hard and checked my phone. He'd sent me a picture of his dick in his hand. I'd never received a dick pic before. I gasped and started touching myself again.

"Lixin, do you-. Do you want one back?" I asked. I wasn't sure how everything worked with nudes. Lixin chuckled.

"Only if you want to. No pressure," Lixin replied. I held my phone up and tried to take a picture, but my hand was shaking, and I ended up sending him a video. Lixin chuckled. "It's thick." I felt lightheaded.

He started grunting and moaning over the phone, and I realized he was cumming. I spat in my hand and started jacking off until I dropped my phone and came in my hand. "Fuck... Lixin," I moaned.

"I wanna fuck you, so I could hear you say my name like that in person," Lixin panted. I took some tissues and wiped myself off. "Grant?"

"If sex with you feels anything like that," I took a deep breath, "I'll end up saying more than your name." I covered my mouth. "I—."

"I've got something to look forward to," Lixin replied, "It doesn't have to be right away, though. Let me at least make you dinner tonight at my sister's place."

"Yeah, I'd like that. Um," I paused, "Lixin... I—. Thank you for not making fun of me."

"Why would I make fun of you? You were braver than I was when I started dating... Was it different for you? Weird?" Lixin asked.

"No, it was—. I was nervous, but I'd like to do that again. I don't really—. I don't touch myself a whole lot—."

"You don't jack off?" Lixin interrupted.

"Not really... I honestly can't recall being turned on before I met you," I replied.

"Shit... The bar is literally on the ground. I'm gonna spoil you rotten," Lixin giggled before saying goodbye. I lay in bed a few minutes longer before zipping up and leaving my room. I wanted to wash my hands, but I ran into Joey.

"When did you get home?" I asked.

"Twenty minutes ago," Joey answered, "I didn't think you were here... I would've said hi. You've been back there this whole time?" I nodded. Joey made a face and shrugged it off.

"What?" I questioned.

"Nothing... Is there a girl in there?" Joey questioned. My eyes widened.

"No! What? Why would you say that?" I asked.

"Because you're acting weird... Why are you acting weird?" Joey questioned.

"I'm not! I was getting ready to hang out with Lixin," I replied.

Joey tapped the table with his palm. "Sit down... I know this isn't my place to say, but I need to tell you... As your brother," Joey frowned. I sat down and took a breath. I thought he'd tell me he could see right through me.

"Joey, is this important? Because I've gotta get—."

"Ken's gay, Grant... And I think he wants to be more than friends. I wasn't going to say anything because I thought I was reading into things, but the way he looked at you that night when I picked you guys up... I think he might be mistaken about the type of friendship you guys have," Joey explained.

I nodded. "Joe, you're a good brother," I signed before messing up his hair. I got up to leave, and he grabbed my wrist.

"Where are you going?" Joey asked.

"Getting ready to hang out with Lixin," I replied.

"Even after what I said?" Joey questioned.

"You would've told me if you knew something I didn't... I don't know why all this time, I thought you knew I was gay," I smiled. Joey's eyes widened. "All this time, I thought you saw something I didn't... And we were both in the dark."

"Are you coming out to me?" Joey asked. I nodded. "Wait... So you're not going to—."

"Don't ask questions you don't want answers to," I replied. Joey's jaw dropped, and for the first time in our lives, he was speechless.