#do not tease me like dc

[nightwingandhissquad]

[nixotinix]

with the confidence of a squirrel on crack cocaine i offer the request of; A Gentleman’s ghost!

with the hubris of a monkey on adderall i give you; art!

thank you for the request anon!! as well as the mental image of a squirrel on crack. DC character requests still open for any interested parties!

[necrotic-nephilim]

I know you like Young Justice 98 so I have to ask what you think of my favorite problematic girl Greta Hayes.

I LOVE GRETA SO MUCH.

Greta Hayes is my favorite bbygirl ever. i think her backstory is super interesting and i wish DC had done more with the whole Warder concept, exploring other Warders and what her relationship could've been with them. i just love the like. duality of her? the way she appears pretty shy and timid but has this really deep, explosive anger to her. she's a hot mess and i love her dearly, she can do no wrong in my eyes. the only moment i didn't like with her was when she and Steph fought, but i blame that more on the writers bc "two girls must have a crush on the cool main character and fight over him" just happens a lot in comics.

i lost my shit when Stargirl: Lost Children brought Greta back. i'm so happy she's back around and i think Lost Children was an interesting plot to explain the concept of all of these teenage heroes and sidekicks getting lost to comic book limbo. i wish Anita had also been in Lost Children but, i'm happy for the scraps of Greta we got bc if you'd asked me before if we would ever see her again, i would've said probably not. i hope the New Golden Age stuff does more with her and i'm delusional that we'll see her reunite with Young Justice, or at the very least Bart, since that's who she mentions being friends with in Lost Children.

i do ship her with Tim, i fear. i think her crush on him was really cute and how much faith she had in him. and him being the one who was able to talk out of working with Darkseid? just very cute vibes. i do also like GretaSteph, but GretaTim is rlly fun and i wish we had more content of it. whether it be an unrequited love situation where she has to watch him grow up while she's trapped as her age in this life/death limbo, or them actually trying to make it work. i crave to use her more in fanfic, i just haven't thought of stories to easily slot her into yet.

anyway, i love her, she's a doll, she should've been in Young Justice (2019), begging DC to do something with her now that she's officially back in the continuity. give her a mini or something pls DC my kingdom for content of my dumb angry ghost child.

[shoot-i-messed-up]

I imagine that in the Do I Look Like Him-verse future, Jill ends up befriending both Tai Pham and Artemis Crock, and I can’t help but think about how those two would interact

[redr0sewrites]

NNN Hcs with the Dc Batboys

🥀A/n: exactly what is sounds like‼️ i love writing no nut november hcs sm-

🥀Character(s): Dick Grayson x reader, Jason Todd x reader, Bruce Wayne x reader,

🥀Cw: smut, teasing, switch!reader, use of the term(s) prince/ss in Bruce's pt, dirty talk

🥀divider: @chachachannah <3

🥀minors dni

Dick Grayson:

bringing up NNN to Dick definitely raises a brow- at first he's a little confused, you don't want to have sex for an entire month? who would ever want that?

once you explain it though, i think he'd be really into it. he's definitely a little pouty that he can't even masturbate, and would probably complain if you were abstaining from sex without telling him why. once you convince him to join you though, he starts taking it very seriously

Dick has a bit of a competitive streak, so i definitely think he's in it to "beat you". he's teasing you endlessly, trying to get you to give in before the month ends (and theres definitely a high chance of him outlasting you)

actually suuuuuch an unfair tease, like genuinely he's soo annoying throughout the month. you walk by him wearing shorts? he's kneading your ass and giving it an appreciative slap. you don't have a shirt on for any reason whatsoever? he's coming up behind you and groping your chest, whether you have boobs or not, and whispering filthy things in your ear.

he's also big on teasing you in your sleep- you can't tell me Dick wouldn't have the biggest somnophilia kink ever so he's absolutely trying to get you worked up while your asleep, in hopes of you waking up and giving in

i honestly see two outcomes: he either makes it to the end of the month, or he gives up about 3/4 through. i feel like Dick has a pretty high libido, but i also think he has really good self control and can resist temptation so there's definitely some internal conflict on his end.

it gets to a point where, at the end of the month, because his libido is so high and he's been untouched for so long, he's like tweaking out over every touch and is becoming veeerrryyy needy and sensitive. this is probably the time period where he's most likely to give in as he's just soooo sensitive and can't even touch himself to get off! you have a much higher chance of getting Dick to give in once he reaches this threshold, and if you play your cards right he'll be squirming.

if he does make it through the month, expect to be woken up at 12:01 on the first of december with Dick humping your thigh and whining in your ear. he's NOT in control right now, he's way too needy and sensitive, and he's definitely okay with letting you use him to get off- he needs to cum just as bad as you do

gives you the most AMAZING orgasms after waiting a month, he's mounting you like an incubus and rutting into you like his life depends on it until your both whimpering and overstimulated ♥️

he's probably gonna be a little mean too, considering you made him wait soooo long <\\3

"hnhah- ffuck." Dick's soft breath tickles your ear as he nips at the lobe, his hips rocking heavily against yours. "c'mon, baby, you can give me another, please.." his cock twitches against your tummy, tip sticky and wet from previous orgasms.

"Dickie, i just came-" you whine, yet your body betrays you as your hips roll up to meet his. he chuckles breathlessly against the soft column of your neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses into your sweat-soaked skin. "please, baby? jus' one more, f'me?" his tone is teasing, but you can tell he's desperate as you feel his cockhead twitch again. with a soft giggle, you nod, and Dick wastes no time in aligning himself with your hole. "you ready, hun?"

"mhm," you hum, and he slides in. your hole is already wet from previous orgasms, it had felt too good for Dick to not cum inside, and that only aided his sloppy thrusts as he rutted against you. your eyes flutter closed as the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, and Dick ducks back down to whisper in your ear as your orgasm draws closer. "so pretty, s'good for me, made me wait so long for this... ffucck- y'gonna cum for me, honey? gonna take it all?"

Jason Todd:

Jason is honestly a wild card, i think it could go a multitude of ways honestly depending on how you feel

when you suggest the idea to him, i either see him being a tiny bit petty and lowkey deciding to fuck you every day of november OR take it as a challenge and being determined to make it through the month with no screw ups.

if it ends up being the latter, than i feel as though Jason has a higher chance of succeeding then losing. i don't think his sex drive is super high, and he's also pretty stubborn, HOWEVER, you are his weak point, and if you end up teasing him or begging him, i can picture him snapping and fucking you

either way, he's at least making it through half the month if not longer.

the only way you'll get him to give in is if your REALLY desperate, because he could never see you needy- so teasing him or pleading with him to fuck you is probably how you can get him to break

i also see him teasing you, but only subtly. he'll wear those low rise sweatpants he knows you like around the house, he's shirtless more often than not, and somehow his hands always seem to find place on your thighs... what lovely coincidences!

Jason struggles more with not fucking you than not being able to masturbate. i honestly don't think he does so very often, so it wouldn't be much of an issue, but not being able to fuck you? not even being able to give you head? drives him insane.

all in all, Jason cares more about your satisfaction than his own. could probably go the whole month without your interference, but is probably pent up by the end of the month

speaking of pent up, he's going to be insane at the end of the month because you made him wait. probably going to be more dominant than usual, BUT he's still really gentle and sweet because he knows your sensitive,,, so its a win!

the first time he cums after no nut november he swears he sees stars, probably praises you to the moon and back over how perfect you are

i think he'd wait until the next day to ravish you, he'd let you both get your sleep, but encourages you both to take the day off and spend the day in bed catching up on lost time. december first is going to be a LOVELY day for you,,,,

"s'that feel good, baby?"

"ffuck- yes Jay, fucking me so good-" you whine into the pillows, drool soaking the fabric as Jason pounds into you from behind. strong arms frame your form as he fucks you, his dick just perfectly touching your g spot/prostate with each thrust.

"aren't you- hnghh- glad you took the day off? relaxed a bit?" Jason huffed, his breath tickling your ear as he tightened his one handed grip on your ass. "y'should let me take care of you more often, especially after waiting so long..." he coos, and you let out a strangled moan as the knot in your stomach begins to tighten faster and faster.

"y'gonna cum for me, pretty?"

"y-es, please, Jay-"

"shh, s'ok, me too, we'll cum together, okay honey?" he soothes, rocking against you as the bed frame quakes.

"gonna fill you up so nice," he murmurs under his breath, white curls plastered to his sweat-slick forehead. "gonna make you cum for every day i couldnt..."

Bruce Wayne:

Bruce is making it through the month, no questions asked. it does not matter how deeply and truly he loves you, this man is IN IT TO WIN IT. he is absolutely making it through the month and will not budge i fear

theres a few nights where he's pent up and irritated after batman-ing and considers giving in, but he never does

when you first suggested NNN to him, he's probably a bit lukewarm to the idea, but whatever makes you happy 🤷 ngl he probably thought you were mad at him and this was a punishment or something at first😭

he honestly didn't think you'd end up actually going through with it, and if you end up giving in at some point in the month he'll definitely feign disappointment

"such a shame, i thought you were challenging me to this...game."

he's absolutely evil when it comes to teasing. he'll come up behind you and press gentle kisses on your neck, his large hands holding a firm grip on your waist, only to pull away with a practiced, professional smile as you begin to curl into his touch <\\3 he also plays up the Brucie Wayne persona, and is a lot more subtly seductive in an attempt to get you to break

keeping a firm hand on your lower back in public, giving you gifts (specifically lingerie, with a note attached that states, "for the end of the month"), and overall being a bit more possessive

when the month is over??? PREPARE. it's late, almost 2AM on december first, and the second he returns from patrolling he's finding you. doesn't even take the batsuit off, hell, he probably fucks you right there in the batcave, bent over the batcomputer. he's a little harsher than usual, and definitely more needy. he also tells you to take the day off, so he can.. spoil you for the entire day <3

let me just say, after so long of abstaining, he FUCKS, and he fucks you hard. you swear your seeing stars with each thrust, and he's genuinely insatiable. probably wants to breed you too... doesn't matter if you can get pregnant or not, he's fucking you full of his cum

the desk beneath you rattles with each thrust, and your thighs tremble as large, gloved hands find purchase on your soft skin. the rough, cold temperature of the leather provides delicious contrast to your lust-warmed skin, and you let out a wanton moan as Bruce thrusts heavy and deep inside.

"you like that, doll? like making me wait?" he practically growls in your ear, and you let out a stuttering moan.

"n-no, please, s'too much-"

"aw, poor thing. can't even take my cock... guess it has been a month after all, you'll need some time to get used to it i suppose." you roll your eyes at his cockiness, but just as you go to spit back a retort, he rolls his hips against your again. you shudder, clenching around him as his pace speeds up.

"so good f'me," he coos, almost cruel in his ministrations as he rubs harsh circles into the soft flesh of your thighs. Bruce's thrusts increase in pace, his tip rearranging your guts as the coil in your stomach begins to tighten.

"o-oh! 'm gonna-"

"fuuck, i know, prince/ss. cum for me," he whispers, moving one hand to the small of your back, pushing you down more firmly against the desk. "you can take it."

[cloudyzeusy]

hello kind person i rlly loved ur clark kent fic bc i think superman needs a good dicking every now and then (read: as much as possible as i can give bc he deserves all the love) i was wondering if you write for nightwing too? 🥺 bc i believe in that man’s sub potential, nay, HE IS ONE!!!!!! (<- sub nightwing/dick grayson truther)

if not, its totally chill! just wanted to know what other dc guys u write for ehe 🫶🥰

(I have written for Damian Wayne before as well + i love how sweet you are)

Tangled in Blue

pairing: dick grayson X top reader

(not really a) warning: fluffy smut, creampie

The door creaked open around midnight, and you didn’t even need to look up to know who it was. The low huff of breath, the heavy drop of boots just inside the entry, the subtle clink of gear hitting the floor. All told you that Dick Grayson—Nightwing—had finally decided to crash after whatever insanity tonight’s patrol had brought.

"You're late," you said softly, setting your book down.

Dick gave you a lazy grin, mask off, suit unzipped halfway down his chest, revealing bruises in shades of violet and fading yellow. "Gotham doesn't exactly sleep y'know."

You stood, walking over slowly. "And you didn’t text."

He leaned in like it was instinct, letting you cup his cheek and brush your thumb just under his eye where the mask had left a faint red line. “I knew you'd worry. But I’m fine, promise.”

Your fingers slid down to his chest, then the suit, tugging it lower. “You look like hell, Grayson.”

His smirk sharpened. “Still think I’m pretty, though.”

You didn’t answer. You just kissed him.

It started soft—slow, searching—but quickly turned to something hungrier. He melted against you, all taut muscle and adrenaline buzzing just beneath the surface, like he was vibrating from holding it all in.

Somehow ypu both managed to make your way to your shared bedroom. So you pushed him gently until he fell back onto your bed. “Sit.”

He obeyed, smirking again, but you caught the flicker of relief in his eyes. He clearly wanted you to take the lead tonight.

“You’re cocky for someone covered in bruises,” you murmured, pushing him back onto the bed and straddling his hips.

He hummed, hands resting on your thighs. “Still got some fight left in me.”

You leaned down, noses brushing. “Good. I like you noisy.”

When you rolled your hips down, he gasped—his head falling back with a groan that shot straight through you.

“You like that?” you teased, grinding slow, watching him fall apart piece by piece beneath you.

His voice was already ragged. “Fuck… yeah. Do it again.”

You leaned down and licked a stripe up his neck, biting just under his jaw. “That’s not how you ask.”

"Fuck me please," He groaned out.

That was all the permission you needed.

You dragged his suit the rest of the way off, kissing every new patch of skin you uncovered—his ribs, his hips, the sharp V that made your mouth water.

As you made your way to finger him your fingers were blocked by something large. You pulled out a blue plug making him wince slightly as you did so.

" You had this in you for your whole patrol ?" You grinned and of course Grayson smirked back unfazed.

"I was just keeping myself stretched for you." He grabbed your joggers impatiently pulled them down to reveal your throbbing cock already leaving copious amounts of precum. "Hurry up and put it in me already." He demanded.

"Fine." You relented grabbing your cock to line yourself up with his pink hole - that was just ready for you.

Pushing all of your girthy length in you both groaned simultaneously. You had forgotten how good his hole felt wrapped around you. By now he was like the perfect onahole for you.

“Shit—” His hands grabbed at the sheets, muscles twitching. “Feels so good. You fill me up so good." He moaned out.

You set a pace that had him gasping and clinging, you fucked him slow and deep. All he could do was squeeze around you as he writhed on your sheets. Every time he tried to slyly escape you pushed him back onto your dick.

“Just relax and take it baby," You breathed out. “You’ve done enough tonight.”

His eyes fluttered shut, lashes damp, breath catching as your rolled your hips hitting his sweet spot every time.

“You’re always holding it together,” You whispered leaning over to press hickeys onto his skin. “But not tonight. I want to see you fall apart for me.”

And he did.

Dick lewdly moaned your name like it was a prayer, his dick leaking onto his stomach, as you pushed him closer and closer.

“I—I’m close—please don’t stop—”

“Then give it to me, sweetheart,” you purred. “Come for me.”

One more deep grind, and he shattered—crying out your name as he came, muscles locking up and eyes wide with desperate need.

You didn’t stop until his body trembled and he whimpered, wrung out and boneless beneath you. You came soon after, as you guys hadn't bothered with a condom you filled him up deep making him shudder at the sensation.

You watched as he held a hand over his flat stomach. "Why is your dick so big.. ." He murmered, completely spent.

You collapsed next to him, kissing his sweat-damp curls as he buried his face in your neck, whining.

“Holy shit,” he whispered, voice hoarse. “I love you.”

You smiled, wrapping your arms around him. “I know.”

He grinned weakly. “Cocky.”

You nudged him gently. “Takes one to know one.”

[demonic0angel]

DP x DC Prompt: Sam decides to hire Poison Ivy to use her powers for actually constructive things (Growing crops, reforesting areas, breeding new plants for commercial purposes, and studying how her powers work). Ivy actually likes doing it, and Sam and her friends.

Ivy was humming as she worked. Harley watched her for a moment, before she asked, “What’s got you so happy?”

“I got another job from that Manson girl. Sam Manson,” she clarified. One of her plants gave a low grumble and nuzzled her palm.

Harley clapped. “Ooh! That’s great! What does she have you doing now?”

Ivy smiled as she turned around and presented her phone to Harley, where the screen was being shown. It was a chat between her and an anonymous donor, though it had a picture of a purple flower as a profile pic. “She wants me to modify current crops in order to grow in bad climates and soil. This way, crop productivity increases and hopefully, less land will be needed in order to grow them. This also decreases the prices and makes it easier for people to buy so—”

Ivy rambled on for quite a while, while Harley watched her with a lovesick expression. By the time Ivy had realized that she was talking for too long, she had already spent an hour and a half just talking about how Sam’s ideas would revolutionize the world.

Ivy flushed green. Harley cooed, “Aww, she seems darling! Did you ever get to meet up with her?”

“No,” Ivy sighed, “but I would like to, one day. Together, I believe that we can completely change the world for the better of nature.”

Harley snickered and teased, “You better be careful, I’ll get jealous!”

Ivy gave her a fond look. “I think you’ll like her and her friends. They also hate clowns.”

“Seriously?! Wow, I think we’re best friends already!” Harley said cheerfully. “So when can we meet?”

Ivy pointed to the phone. “After this job, I’ll ask. Hopefully, once we meet, we can make even bigger plans to completely reform conservation laws and make bigger, better, and more efficient laws.”

[ebodebo]

pineapple kisses

ˋ°•*⁀➷ pair: jason todd x fem!situationship reader

ˋ°•*⁀➷ wc: 2.1k+

ˋ°•*⁀➷ contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, fem!reader, p in v, maybe a little dubcon vibes because you're slightly intoxicated, porn with so little plot, brooding jason, dirty talk, lowkey bottom jason, teasing, semi-public sex, pussy pronouns, protective jason, alcohol consumption, nasty guy interaction (not jason ofc,) peak jason & dick sibling interaction, angsty ending, & no use of y/n.

ˋ°•*⁀➷ author's note: it's been so long since i've written for jason, so i'm hoping i didn't lose the ability to write him lmao also, this is loosely inspired by the mission jason launched in "outlaws" where him and starfire go save roy from his near-death encounter. i added dick and the bat just for dialogue purposes honestly. anyways, i hope you enjoy my dip back into dc!

jason is on a caribbean mission with dick to find roy, but his attention is caught by you at a tiki bar...

"Still no sign of Roy," Dick's voice booms through Jason's walkie.

Jason sighs as he continues trudging down the pier. "You're supposed to use this line when you actually have eyes on him, you know," he exasperates, already fed up with Dick's antics.

"I'm just making conversation, Jason," Dick sighed, popping a pretzel into his mouth.

"Yeah, well, don't," Jason muttered, his tone short as he walked toward a tiki bar perched on the shore. "Leave the line open for Kori or the Bat."

"Whatever you say, buzzkill," Dick retorted, grabbing a handful of pretzels. "Do you think it's too soon to ask Kori to move in?" he asked, his voice muffled by the bits of pretzel.

Jason rolled his eyes, ready to deliver a sarcastic comment, but then his gaze landed on you.

At a tiki bar.

On the same Caribbean island as him.

Far away from home.

You were sipping a mixed drink, wearing a bikini that was far too small for his liking. Before he realized it, you were trying to grip the hanging fabric tie of your bikini top, seemingly willing it to come off.

"I'm gonna have to call you back," Jason muttered, hanging up quickly.

"Wait! Jason!" Dick started, but he settled back into his chair, a frown etched on his lips as he threw more salty pretzels into his mouth.

Jason took heavy steps toward the bar, the sound of his boots crunching against the soft sand as you struggled to pull your top over your head.

Once he reached you, he caught a whiff of the sweet, tropical scent of piña colada on your breath as you wrapped your soft arms around his neck.

"Why are you here?" His eyes, a mix of concern and annoyance, searched yours as his hand reached behind you to adjust your slouching top.

"That's not a nice way to greet your… something or another," you slurred, your words bubbly.

"Not quite in the mood," he replied gruffly, holding you up as you leaned against him. 

Your eyes drooped lazily as you looked at him. "Have you found yourself a beach babe yet?"

"No," he responded, his tone rough. 

You gave him a cheeky smirk. "What a shame."

He tips his head back. "Answer my question. Why are you here?" He urges.

"Vacation," you shrug, trying not to react to his warm hands on you.

"Vacation?" he echoes your words, his brow arched.

You roll your eyes playfully. "Yes, because some people actually take time off work to have fun, Jason."

Before he can retort with one of his sarcastic comments, a deep voice rings out from nearby.

"There you are!" It cuts through the air, reaching Jason's ears as he turns to see a drunk guy stumbling over. The man reaches out to pat Jason's shoulder. "Thanks, dude. I've been looking for my girl all over this beach," he says, causing Jason's eyes to narrow.

Jason looks down at you. "You know this guy?"

You make a sour face and shake your head. "Nope."

The guy laughs. "She's just drunk. She knows me. I'm just going to take her home," he says, reaching out in an attempt to grab you from Jason's grasp.

"Yeah, right," Jason scoffs, pulling you closer to him, acting as a protective shield against the guy's advances. 

“Come on, man. That’s my girl. Don’t be a dick,” the guy nearly pleads, looking rather pathetic.  

Jason’s lips form a straight line, feigning remorse. “Sorry. That’s my favorite thing to be.”  

“He’s right,” you mumble, feeling the effects of the alcohol starting to fade from the encounter. 

Jason lets out a huff, side-eying you before he looks back at the guy. “Just leave the girl alone.”  

“Or what?” The guy straightens his posture, his implied threat hanging in the air, causing Jason’s shoulders to sag with disappointment. 

The last thing he wanted was to get into a fight. It wasn't that he feared getting his hands dirty. He simply had other things to do.  

So, it would be a major inconvenience.

"Are you just drunk or an actual dumbass?" Jason prompts, cocking a brow at this guy's stupidity. 

"The fuck did you just call me?" The guy revved up, pushing out his chest to look bigger, making Jason make an unamused face.

"Okay. So just a dumbass then," Jason murmured, placing you to sit in the sand.

"The fuck are you going to do?" The guy braced himself as he moved into Jason's space, spit flying out of his mouth as he shouted.

Jason seizes the guy's hand, twisting it sharply to the side, causing a painful misalignment. The guy drops to his knees, a raw, guttural sound of agony escaping his lips. 

"You, you just broke my fucking hand!" The guy's voice cracked with pain as he held his hand, tears welling up in his eyes.

You flinch at the sight, but still, when Jason approaches you, you take his hand to help you stand. "Nah. Just dislocated it. You should see a doctor, though," Jason shakes off his concern, helping you stand in the sand. "Don't move it too much; you'll fuck up your vessels," Jason offhandley says as he guides you away from the beach. You look over your shoulder to see the guy who is now on his back, in a fetal position, cursing and screaming. 

You turn to face the front. "So you'll hurt someone for me, but you won't be with me?"

"I told you when we first met that I didn't do relationships," Jason said gruffly, adjusting his hands on your waist as he walked to an empty, dimly lit alleyway between a sparse supermarket and a small specialty store. "Too fucked up to commit to someone like that."

His honesty shocks you, but you don't try to comfort him or convince him he's wrong, that it could work. He was fucked up, which was, granted, no choice of his own, still a fact. The revelation made you realize, with a pang of regret, that your emotional needs would always remain unmet.

 "It's been a while since I've seen you," you murmur as he shifts you to lean against the wall and grabs a milk crate just beside him. You don't mention that the alcohol you consumed has rapidly dissipated since he dislocated someone's hand in front of you, so you can technically take care of yourself.

You just like the way he takes care of you better.

"Yeah," he replies, sniffling as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, trying to rid himself of the dust in the air. "It has."

He drags the crate over, beckoning you to sit. A glint appears in your eyes as you reach for his helping hand, your other hand brushing against his cock tucked away in his cargos. His body leans forward slightly as he lets out a quiet breath. You slip onto the crate, chewing on your lip. "Your body didn't forget me," your voice is a smoky whisper.

Jason's mouth hangs open slightly as his eyes search yours. Your eyes drift from his curious blue ones to his mouth, lips wet and gleaming. "What is it you're doing here? On the island?" you ask curiously, chest already moving up and down briskly. 

He cocks a brow though his eyes linger on your lips. "That's classified."

"Mhm. How could I possibly forget how secretive you are?" you try to make it sarcastic, but it comes out dry as his eyes peer down at you. "I have a secret, too," you utter. 

He nods his head. Tell me. 

"But I have to whisper it," you affirm.

He sucks in a sharp breath, dipping his head so that his ear hovers just above your mouth, his hands gripping either side of the crate you sit on. He hovers for a moment before he feels the warmth of your mouth across his skin and the wetness of your tongue licking across his helix. 

His grip on the wood of the grate tightens, turning his knuckles white when he hears your breathy noises he knows all too well shoot through his eardrum. 

"You're testing every shred of patience I have," his voice is husky, low. 

You press a kiss on his cheek. "Patience is overrated."

His head lulls against your lips before he grabs your face, his hands pressing a heated kiss to your lips. You release a whine that he chokes down as his lips move against yours. Your hands reach up to cup his jaw, your tongue sliding across his lips with ease.

He grunts into your mouth as he feels your sweet tongue slip into his mouth, the sensation of it gliding across his tongue sending shivers down his spine. His hands move to rest on your thighs, giving them a light squeeze as your tongue slides across his teeth. You squirm under his touch, the fabric of your skirt rustling as you slide his hands higher under it.

You can feel his fingers teasing and adjusting your bikini bottoms, causing a sense of looming anticipation. You groan before you abruptly stand, shoving him to sit on the crate as you straddle his lap. “Don’t need you to get me ready. She still remembers you,” you purr, slipping his cargo pants and boxers off in one sweep.

“Could never forget you, sweet girl,” Jason mumbles, gripping your jaw to kiss you. You nip his lower lip before you sink into his cock, gripping his shoulders for support. He hisses at the contact, and you lean your forehead against him, holding in a moan. 

You dip your head to hover above his ear. “You been, ah, getting your fix from some other girl?” 

He shakes his head, hands gripping a handful of your ass. “No, sweetheart. Waited for you,” he grunts, easing you up and down on his cock. “So, I might not last long,” he choked out as he felt you squeezing around him so tightly.

“That’s what I like to hear,” you sputter, perspiration gathering on your forehead as you rock against him.

“Christ. You were fuckin’ made for me,” Jason grits, hand messily threading through your hair to push your lips to his. “Weren’t you, baby?”

You nod your head, whining against his lips as he speeds up his movements.

He shakes his head. “No, no. Come on, sweetheart. You were all talk earlier. Cat got your tongue?” he teases, taking the opportunity of your mouth being open to nip at your tongue with his canines. “Or just me?” 

You press your lips back to his, pulling back slightly, feeling your stomach warm and ignite with more pleasure than you know what to do with.  "Jay—fuck! Gonna come." 

"Needy girl," he says, grinding against him to stimulate your clit, which sends your body into overload. You grip his shoulders as your whole body convulses on top of him, and your head goes back with a loud moan coming off your tongue.

The sight alone makes Jason's orgasm come in hard and fast, following yours.  

He presses his face into your chest to smother the various groans and moans that fall out of his mouth. 

You're both practically putty in each other's hands as both of your orgasms dissipate. 

"I… missed you," Jason mumbles, breathing labored, making you look down at him with a smile.

"That's still the sex talking," you laugh as he helps you off him with a hiss. 

He chews on his lip, drawing blood as he watches you adjust your shorts and bikini bottoms as he pulls his boxers and pants back on.

He hates that you think he told you that as the result of a chemical reaction in his brain. 

He hates that he waited till that very moment to tell you.

"I should go," you murmur, tilting your head at his stoic expression. "You alright?"

He shakes himself out of his thoughts. "Yeah. I'm alright. You're right," he nods along, plastering a fake smile. "See you."

You give him a small smile. "See you."

The whole thing felt more awkward than usual, and he's not sure if it's because you just had public sex or if the feelings he has for you are proving to be real. 

Nonetheless, he watches you leave, looking back at him to wave. He waves back as the quiet voice in the back of his mind beckons you to come back, but he stays silent. He knows things are better this way.

You would be better off this way.

Without Jason there to crush your spirit and ruin your soul.

Statistically, everyone who has ever left Jason has been better off; you would be no different.

mini author's note: i fear it's been too long... i missed you jason todd<3 dividers by @saradika-graphics & @cafekitsune!

[ramp-it-up]

Celebrate

Summary: Bucky gives you a gift for your birthday. But he gets the reward.

Word count: 2.5 K

Pairing: Congressman Bucky Barnes x Teacher!Reader

A/N: Definitely on my Bucky bullshit for a minute. Just block me now. Or, read, respond, and reblog! This is my bit of birthday self indulgence and may be based on real gift requests ;0. Love you heauxes! This is connected to Charm, and Claim, but can be read alone! I'm so down bad for these two. This has no Thunderbolts* spoilers.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Read at your own risk. All mistakes my own. Smut! Teacher Reader, Congressman Bucky, Dom!Bucky, but also Subby!Bucky, so switch! Bucky? Back/butt rugs, fingering f receiving oral, raw p in v, breeding kink, SIZE KINK, multiple orgasms, woman on top, orgasm denial, overstimulation, praise kink. begging, female masturbation, The L word!, tiny bit of the Sargeant kink, nicknames Charm and Baby, Basically pwp.

I do not have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

------

You and Bucky had a rhythm now: every other weekend.

One trip to DC, one to Brooklyn. It wasn’t perfect, but it worked. This weekend was your birthday. And you wanted out of the city.

So you took the train south, and by the time you reached his townhouse, the air smelled like lemon, butter, and something just slightly burnt, because Bucky insisted on cooking and refused help.

It still tasted amazing, because he made it with something neither of you had named yet.

Love.

He leaned in the doorway, sleeves rolled, tie loosened, wearing that smug little smirk like he knew he’d already won the night. You were curled on his couch in nothing but his t-shirt, a glass of wine balanced on your thigh, and the last bite of cake melting on your tongue.

“Good birthday?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

You nodded, then stretched just enough to make your point clear, your shirt, his t-shirt, riding up on your thighs a little as you groaned softly. 

“Mmm. Almost perfect.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow and sauntered over, hand bracing the back of the couch, body heat curling around you.

“Almost? Baby, I cooked for you. I let you win at cards. I didn’t even complain when you dragged me through that bookstore for forty-five minutes.”

You smirked, tilting your head to look up at him. 

“And I appreciate all of that. But…”

He narrowed his eyes playfully. “But?”

You set your wine down, pouting up at him just enough to play.

“I was thinking... maybe a back rub?”

He snorted. “You mean a butt rub.”

“I meant what I said.” Your tone was innocent. Your smile wasn’t. “It’s not my fault if your hands wander.”

He leaned down until his lips were brushing your temple, his voice a gravel-soft murmur.

“Sweetheart, when it’s your birthday, my hands are yours to do whatever you want with.”

His mouth found the side of your neck before you could come up with something clever to say, slow kisses trailing heat down your skin. You shivered, arching into him.

“C’mon,” he murmured, already lifting you in his arms. 

“Let me spoil you a little more.”

In the bedroom, he knelt behind you on the bed, thighs straddling yours, big hands working into your lower back beneath the hem of his shirt. His touch was slow at first, thumbs tracing your spine, palms kneading your lower back. But when your hips rolled back into him just a little too deliberately, he groaned.

“This what you had in mind, baby?” he asked, breath catching as you arched again, teasing. His hands slid lower, over the curve of your hips, then further, until he was massaging your ass like he owned it, and come to think of it, maybe he did.

You hummed. 

“Exactly what I wanted.”

His thumbs pressed into the base of your spine, but the heat in his touch betrayed him. 

He wasn't thinking about knots or tension anymore. He was thinking about the way your skin warmed under his palms. The way your hips tilted back to meet him. The little sound you made when he kneaded the underside of your butt.

“You really gonna pretend you just wanted a massage, Baby?” he murmured, mouth grazing your ear now. 

“That all you were after?”

You tilted your head to the side, giving him access, knowing exactly what that would do to him. 

“Didn’t say how I wanted it to end.”

His fingers glided from your lower back, over your beautiful ass, roving intimately. He massaged your thighs, dipping between them to rub your soft pussy through your panties, teasing.

"Turn over, Charm." His voice was a rasp. "Let me see my girl." 

Bucky flipped you gently onto your back, blue eyes dark now, his pupils blown as he looked down at you. The shirt had ridden high, and he pushed it higher, his knuckles dragging against your soft skin.  He ran his fingers over your nipples, tugging at them softly before he cupped your breasts, drawing every shiver from you.

"Open your legs." 

He ran his hands along your thighs and pulled you towards the edge of the bed. 

“I want to see that pretty pussy.”

He took his time, kissing down your torso, eyes never leaving yours until he had to close them, groaning as his mouth found the place just below your belly button, where you always shuddered for him.

“You smell so delicious,” he muttered, voice wrecked, like he was already unraveling. “You know what that does to me?”

You arched up in response, and he didn't wait. He hooked your panties down with a practiced kind of urgency, but still kissed every inch he uncovered. 

Every part of you felt claimed before he’d even touched you where you needed him most.

And when his mouth finally settled between your thighs, when his tongue licked a long, slow stripe and his hands held your hips down, your breath caught so hard it was a sob.

“Oh my god, Bucky!”

“Say it again,” he rasped, voice muffled, his mouth relentless. “Louder. I want the neighbors to know whose birthday it is.”

You were already shaking. He was too good at this, too practiced at making you fall apart for him. It was his favorite way to give. 

Not diamonds. Not champagne. Just you, undone.

Your fingers laced through his hair, pulling. He groaned into you and doubled down, like he needed it just as bad. Like this was his gift, too.

You came hard, trembling under him, his name a broken prayer on your lips. But he didn’t stop. Didn’t slow down, just licked and sucked until you were shaking under his mouth, coming so hard it almost hurt.

Then he slid up your body, grinning. He only stopped to kiss you again, mouth slick, eyes wild, cock heavy against your thigh.

"You’re fucking stunning. I need you dripping with my cum."

He slid over you, teasing you with his thick cock as he rubbed against your folds.

“God, you’re so wet already.”

“Wonder why,” you whispered, grinning.

That earned you a low growl. Vibranium braced your hip, the other hand fisted in the sheets beside your head, and then a guttural moan ripped out of you as he eased in, taking it slow because he was so damn big. 

The sensation was overwhelming, and you trembled on the bed, breathing deeply.

“Jesus, Bucky!”

“Yeah?” he rasped, eyes locked on yours. “That what you wanted? My cock for your birthday?”

You nodded, dizzy with it, but he was already moving, already moving his hips in that perfect rhythm that made you whimper every time he pulled out only to fill you again and again. Deep, rolling thrusts, each one carving you open just right.

"Say it," he groaned. "Tell me what you need."

"You," you gasped, wrapping your legs around him. "Harder. Just don't stop."

He went slowly at first, grabbing your hair in his fist as he thrust in and out of you, stroking your squeezing pussy with his pulsing cock. You arched up against him and he gave you more, everything you could take. 

He thrust harder. Rougher. His rhythm breaking just enough to show how close he was, how much he needed this.

Bucky’s control started to fray at the edges. You could tell in the way he cursed into your neck, in the way his rhythm started to stutter, rougher now, deeper as his hips snapped into yours.

“Gonna give it to you,” he promised, and he did, he gave you everything. The weight of him, the heat, the unspoken love in every thrust. He fucked you like you were the only thing that’s ever made him feel right.

Because you were.

You met him stroke for stroke, fingers digging into his back, nails raking as you got closer again.

“Gonna come for me again, birthday girl?” he panted, barely holding on. 

You nodded, breathless. “Yes, please, Bucky, I’m right there…”

“God, I wanna feel it. Wanna feel you squeeze me just like that, fuck, gonna cum inside you…”

And you did.

And he did.  

You shattered underneath him with a cry, body clenching tight around him, massaging the length of him in firm tugs until he lost it. He followed fast, burying himself deep as he came with a raw, broken groan that sounded like your name.

He didn't pull out right away; he was still hard.

“I want to do this all day and all night, forever, Charm.” 

You took his head in your hands and looked him in those beautiful eyes.

“Gonna give you what you need, Bucky.”

He broke, whispering a reverent, “I love you,” for the first time.

You grinned back at him and whispered it back. 

“I know. And I love you, too.”

Bucky laugh/sobbed and then proceeded to work the waves of your orgasm further, harder, until the waves of your next climax tugged tightly around his cock and he filled you with more hot bursts that made you come again. 

It was amazing.

His hands gripped you possessively, playing with your nipples and your clit, memorizing every perfect curve and groove, until you were coming yet again. Finally, he lay there, panting, his forehead pressed to yours, sweat-damp hair falling in his eyes as he kissed you like he didn’t want to let you go.

His smile turned lazy, confident, until you flipped him gently onto his back and straddled him, that same glint he wore now reflecting in your eyes.

“Did you get everything you wanted?”

“I can think of another gift I’d like…” you murmured, rolling your hips just enough to make him curse, “I want to ruin you.”

Bucky blinked up at you, caught between reverence and sheer, helpless lust.

“Jesus, Charm…”

“Do you understand, Sargeant?” you asked, dragging your nails down his chest, scraping his nipple deliciously. You took his arms and guided them above his head. 

“Now, keep your hands up here. Do. Not. Move. Understand?”

Bucky swallowed hard and nodded, voice gone, pupils blown.

“Yes, ma’am.”

You leaned in, lips brushing his ear.

“Good boy.”

You rolled your hips down against his watching the way Bucky’s eyes fluttered shut at the contact, how he bit back a moan, hands twitching where you’d pinned them to the bed.

But he didn’t move. Not without permission.

You smiled, pleased, and leaned in to kiss along his throat, leaving a mark just below his jaw.

“That’s better,” you murmured. 

“All this strength, all this control, and you give it to me.”

His breath hitched. “It’s always yours.”

You sat back on his thighs. Your hand slid between your bodies, wrapping around his cock, still hot and half-hard, soaking wet with your combined fluids, and already starting to throb again beneath your touch.

“Then let me take what’s mine.”

You stroked him slowly, deliberately, until he was fully hard again, aching for it, whining softly in his throat. You watched him fall apart under you, helpless and obedient, eyes glassy with need.

“Look at you,” you whispered, lining yourself up and sinking down on him in one slow, deliberate motion. “So fucking gorgeous when you let go.”

His groan was deep, desperate, like he was barely holding on.

You rode him slowly at first, then harder when you felt him start to twitch beneath you, like he couldn’t take it anymore. You leaned in close, lips brushing his.

“Don’t come unless I say.”

He whimpered, eyes wide, and you grinned as you rolled your hips again.

“You want to be good for me, don’t you?”

“Yes,” he gasped. “God, yes.”

You rocked harder, nails dragging down his chest again, and you felt him tremble underneath you. But he held on. Just like you told him to.

“Good boy,” you whispered, then gave him a filthy kiss. 

“Now tell me who you belong to.”

“You,” Bucky choked out. “I belong to you, Charm”

“Damn right you do.”

And then you let him break.

“Cum for me, Bucky.”

That was all it took.

The second the words left your mouth, he came with a wrecked moan, his entire body arching beneath you, cock pulsing as he spilled deep inside you. You didn’t slow. You kept riding him, hips grinding down to milk every last drop, your cunt squeezing him mercilessly until he was gasping for breath.

But you weren’t done.

Not even close.

His arms trembled where you still had them pinned. He looked dazed, flushed, pupils blown wide, lips parted like he’d forgotten how to breathe.

You leaned forward and kissed him, soft at first, then biting his lower lip as you clenched around him again.

“You didn’t think I was finished with you, did you?”

His breath caught.

“Baby, fuck, I don’t think I can…”

“You can. And you will.”

You pulled your hips up slowly, feeling his cock twitch inside you, still half hard, but oversensitive. You dragged your nails down his chest, then planted your hands on either side of his head, hips rolling with calculated precision.

“I want it again. Want to feel you get hard inside me while I use you.”

He groaned like he was in pain, but his cock was already thickening again, fighting through the aftershock to obey.

“That’s it,” you whispered, biting along his jaw. “Good fucking boy.”

You moved with ruthless grace now, your control absolute. You rode him like his only purpose was to fill you, please you, break for you. And he did. He took it all, shaking, panting, drowning in the way you fucked him.

And when you came again, clenching hard around him, moaning into his mouth, he whimpered like it hurt, and then begged to cum again.

“Please Charm, let me, please, let me come inside you again…”

You smiled wickedly.

“Not yet.”

You leaned back, hips still moving, watching the tension build in him again, watching how badly he wanted to obey. You pressed a palm to his chest, and let your free hand slip between your legs to rub your clit in tight, practiced circles, moaning shamelessly, knowing exactly what it did to him when you took control like this.

Bucky’s eyes were fixed to the spot and he bit his lip as he watched you.

And finally, when your breath started to break, when your thighs trembled and you could feel another climax building, you gave him his reward.

“Now, Bucky. Fill me.”

He shattered beneath you with a hoarse, broken cry, coming so hard it sent your orgasm crashing into you too. Your pussy clenched violently around him, drawing him deeper, milking him again as you rode both of you through it, grinding every drop out of him.

You collapsed forward, breathless and flushed, your body humming from the high of it, sweat-damp skin sticking to his.

Bucky wrapped his arms around you the second you let him, trembling and blissed out, lips finding your neck.

“Holy fuck,” he whispered hoarsely, voice raw. “I think you just rewired my brain. Supposed to be your birthday, not mine.”

You laughed softly, stroking his jaw, and kissed him with a slow, satisfied hum.

“Best Birthday ever.”

He smiled, boyish and ruined and beautiful. He kissed your shoulder.

“You sure? I've got more planned."

You hummed, fingers drifting down his back, nails grazing his skin.

“Hmmm. Well, we’ve got all weekend."

"Gonna give you everything you ever wanted, Charm."

"You already have, my Darling. My Bucky. My love."

[eveysnotebook]

dc characters when their lover is very physically affectionate

includes:

jason todd, dick grayson, tim drake, hal jordan, barry allen, wally west, roy harper ‘n koriand’r!

jason todd:

he loves it and hates it. at first, he doesn’t know what to do, he has never really received this kind of soft and loving touch before.

it feels nice but also new and scary, he doesn’t know how to act! he kinda gets all shy and flustered for awhile.

after a couple months of being together he gets more adjusts to it, seeking it out even! he finds himself leaning into your warm and welcoming touch.

every hug or brush of hands makes jason smile and blush, even if it’s barely noticeable.

he starts giving back the same loving touches too, soft, caressing touches and warm kisses become normal, every day things now.

he may brush it off or even act annoyed, but he really loves it.

“stop bothering me” he’d say as he leans into you.

he really loves it and is so appreciative and grateful <33

dick grayson:

he’s naturally a very touchy person, giving friends big, warm hugs. but when you give him a hug first? he’s head over heels.

“c’mere! you look like your wanting a hug.”

he lives for every moment you touch him, whether it be brief sand accidentally or longing and lovingly.

he always leans into your warmth, giving back the same loving energy with the cutest smile!

he takes this as a green light to give you even more loving touches, more hugs, kisses and hand holding!

he’ll always find a reason to touch you, and he hopes you do the same.

tim drake:

he acts nonchalant, as if it isn’t that big of a deal, but he really loves it.

it’s not often he’s given warm hugs or soft touches, so it’s something special he has with you!

he finds it hard to give the same touches to you at first, but he slowly warms up to the idea.

he gets flustered whenever you slip your hand into his own.

“This is okay. just don’t distract me.”

hal jordan:

I feel like he’s already big on being physically affectionate, so he’s happy when your the same!

he love love loves when you initiate touches first, makes him feel special and happy!

knows that you are okay with being touched alot, so he randomly gives you big kisses and hugs.

“your just obsessed with me, aren’t you?” He’d tease whenever you have your hands all over him.

barry allen:

a little flustered at first. he isn’t really used to it! he most definitely adores it though and tends to seek it out.

he’ll start brushing his hand across yours as you walk together. as if a silent reminder to take his hand.

loves it when you kiss his cheek randomly. expect a kiss in return!

“uh- what’s this for?” he’d ask the first time you randomly gave him a big, warm hug. he’d hug back, although slightly awkwardly.

he feels safe and at home in your hands <3

wally west:

great! he lives for your attention. he’s confident enough to take your hand in his when he feels like it, but if you touch him first? he’s flattered, happy, over the moon.

he wants you to hold his face, he loves it. feeling the warmth of your hand take over his freckled cheeks.

“aww- baby! someone’s clingy.” he’d say with a smile before hugging you back even tighter. you laugh at his hypocrisy.

roy harper:

I feel at first he would be a it standoffish at first. why are you hugging him as if you’d known eachother for ages? acting as if he’s something special and to be held gently.

he blushes every time you take his face in your hands, especially when he’s taken off guard.

“ ‘m not blush, it’s just warm in here!”

he gets used to it though, and returns the warm touches.

grabbing your hand in a busy street, or seeking you out in his sleep are some simple signs of his adoration for you and your touchiness.

Koriand’r / starfire:

Kori is warm. she is the sun itself. but when your warmth meets hers, she is stunned. a soft touch makes her face break out into a wide smile.

she loves the way you touch her. your hands gliding over her arms, softly holding her hands, settling on her knee. she feels extra warm every time she feels your hands snake around her.

“oh! this..this is nice.” she’d say the first time you wrap her tightly in your arms. when she hugs back, she ever so slightly lifts you off of the ground.

“I could get used to this.” she tells you one night, both of your limbs tangled together.

you will always make her feel loved.

ignore the fact kori’s was the most well written lmao

what can I say I love her 🧡

request open btw!!

[arkhamsknightz]

STARLIGHT // SUPERMAN HEADCANONS. CLARK KENT & JOURNALIST!READER.

content: just fluff, pure pure fluff. It's the biggest vomit of love lmao im sorry but i'm in love at this time so deal with it. I don't dare to write smut yet (i'm very rusty lol), + we don't accept snyder fans!clark here — sorry not sorry — this is the clark who would rescue a kitten from a tree so....

word count: 0,4k (almost 500 words)

notes: i'm testing the waters in the dc fandom, even though it's been too long since I've written in it, but the superman trailer is my new obsession and I can't wait for july. the brat summer hits hard, but the superman summer hits harder.

divider: @bernardsbendystraws

☆ You keep pretending not to notice when he leaves your apartment, and five minutes later "Superman" shows up to make sure you got home safe from your late assignment.

☆ Clark literally melts whenever you call him "Superman" in a teasing tone. like—he’s supposed to be the man of steel, but his knees go weak the second you smirk and say, “What’s the plan now, Superman?"

☆ You learned pretty quickly that dating the man of tomorrow comes with random date night interruptions. But he always makes it up to you. Like one time he flew in from stopping a train derailment with pastries from Paris and an "I'm sorry I missed our dinner" post-it stuck to your laptop".

☆ He’s so soft for you. Like, he’ll listen to you rant about Lex Luthor and his stupid company for an hour and then say, “You’re incredible. Do you know that?” with the most adoring look in his eyes.

☆ He's ridiculously good at remembering everything. birthdays, deadlines, how you take your coffee, and your favourite quote. He once quoted your own article back to you when you were doubting yourself, and you cried. He freaked out. tried to fly to get flowers or something.

☆ One time you tried to surprise him by bringing him lunch to the Daily Planet, and he got so flustered he nearly knocked over his desk. “You... you brought me food?” He blinked like krypto when he acts like never been fed before. Now he talks about it like it was a grand romantic gesture and not just an stupid sandwich.

☆ You once told him, half-asleep, that flying with him felt like dreaming while awake. Now he always asks, “Wanna go dream?” before lifting you into the sky.

☆ He sometimes reads over your drafts while you're out cold on the couch. leaves little notes in the margins like “love this part,” “so proud of you,” or “you spelt ‘crimes’ wrong, but you’re still my favourite reporter.”

☆ He lives for when you adjust his glasses or fix his tie before a press conference. It’s the only time he lets the whole “Clark Kent” act drop just a little and looks at you like you’re his whole world.

☆ Sometimes when you’re deep into writing, completely zoned out, he lands silently on your balcony and just watches you work for a minute—arms crossed, head tilted, that soft “I can’t believe she’s mine” smile on his face. When you finally notice him, he acts like he hasn’t been standing there like a lovesick puppy for the last five minutes.

☆ On your worst days at the paper, when deadlines crush you and the world feels heavy, he wordlessly picks you up and flies you above the clouds. No noise, no pressure—just the two of you, floating in golden light. “All of that can wait,” he whispers. “You can’t.”

[l0vergirlwrites]

hidden talents ; spencer reid

synopsis: during a cozy night in with spencer, you both reveal your hidden talents to one another.

warnings: established relationship with fem!reader, silly hidden talents, so much fluff i could die, kissing & sweet touches, season 6 spencer in mind lowkey

note: i wrote this while listening to ‘north’ by clairo!

another note: i promise i’m working on the requests in my asks box! just taking longer than normal (reminder that requests are open!)

it had been a particularly cold day for the east coast, the arctic mass of freezing air drifted all the way into the apartment in dc where spencer & you reside, freshly showered under warm streams of water, dressed in pyjamas under a few extra blankets for good measure.

nights like this were rare—uninterrupted moments shared with just him & you, his left hand caressing one of your thighs under the blankets while his right one held a special cover version of steinbeck’s east of eden in his lap.

you were busy drawing patterns into the fuzz of the top blanket, right cheek pressed into spencer’s left arm as you drew leaves, flowers, & swirly symbols, watching the blanket leave shiny remnants of your artwork. a tv show you had started binging played softly on the medium sized tv spencer mounted on the wall last month, but you were growing bored.

“do you have any hidden talents?” you randomly asked once you lowered the tv’s volume more, placing the remote back on the nightstand before turning to spencer.

he gave you a quirked brow under his glasses, sliding his bookmark to where he left off before shutting the hardcover. “i don’t know. does having three phd’s & an affinity for magic tricks count?”

with a shake of your head & a chuckle, your right hand propped your head up on the pillows, free hand rubbing spencer’s bicep in a cruelly sweet way.

“people—including me—already know those things, silly” you pointed out, gasping when he squeezed your thigh in a funny spot. it didn’t hurt, just made you smile wider.

“c’mon, there has to be something you’ve kept hidden under your sleeve” you pleaded, tummy turning when spencer looked at you with those puppy dog eyes of his.

you were swooning hard.

but he’d argue that he was swooning harder.

“let me think…” he pouted his lips in thought, genuinely wracking his brain for something to appease you.

“i can talk with my mouth closed” he blurted, turning back to you & seeing your intrigued gaze.

“like jessie j?”.

“yes, like jessie j”.

“show me!” you demanded with excitement, sitting up a little straighter for the big reveal.

closing his mouth, you watched spencer say a few sentences with his mouth completely closed, his lips shut tight like they were glued together. the face he was making was silly & cute, & you were genuinely shocked at how clear you could hear him talking.

clapping lightly with delight, you scooted closer to him (as if you weren’t already tucked into his side like a magnet), cheering him on for his cool talent.

“how have you kept this hidden from me for five years? five whole years?!” you teased, seeing the effect you had on him live when his neck & cheeks grew pink & hot.

ducking his head, spencer shrugged. “it never came up”.

“you’re forgiven” you kissed spencer’s cheek, kissing it again when he leaned closer for another. you’d give him all the kisses in the world anyways.

“so, what about you? what’s your hidden talent?” he squeezed your thigh again, ready for you to reciprocate with something exciting.

“i can make a trumpet sound with my mouth”.

“really?”.

“you don’t believe me?” you faked surprised hurt.

“i’ll believe it when i see it, sweetheart” it was his turn to tease you now, chest tightening when you scrunched your nose a little with a smile.

that action always made him swoon somehow.

“okay, okay,” you rubbed his bicep again, preparing yourself. “but don’t look at me at first, or else i’ll start laughing & ruin it. please”.

at least you were polite.

with eyes closed, spencer patiently waited, & when he heard the trumpet like sound come from your lips, his eyes automatically opened in intrigue. because how did it sound at least sixty-percent like the real thing?

you proudly trumpeted the tune of ella fitzgerald’s song ‘at last’, some notes were off key but the heart was there. & spencer was amazed.

“that sure beats my talent by a long shot” he clapped too, laughing when you cupped your hurting cheeks. smiling too much hurt in the best way.

“you should do that at parties sometime” he teased lovingly, pulling you to his chest so he could feel your laugh vibrate through his skin.

lifting your head back up after a moment, feeling his hand drift through your hair, you played squinted. “you think you’re so funny, spence…”.

the look in his eyes was all gentle, the lamp light beside him casting a little honey glow to them. “you’ve always said you loved my jokes”.

you sighed, letting your face fall back to the cotton pyjama shirt he wore, unable to hide the fuzziness growing inside you. “i do”.

his looks were killer, sending your body into a frenzy of love & jittery emotions—the good type of jittery.

“are you too tired to read me some steinbeck?” you asked after a moment of content silence, his hands musing your hair while one of yours drew patterns onto the crook of his neck.

“never” he replied happily, letting yourself get comfortable on his chest before reaching for the book on the nightstand.

“wait”.

before spencer could grab it, your lips meshed with his, eyes shutting immediately as his hands cupped your cheeks, falling down the hedge maze of your touch before pulling away, his lips pressing two kisses on each cheek good measure.

“i’m never gonna get tired of that” you murmured as you got comfortable again, lips tingling from mingling with his. you’ve kissed spencer millions of times by now, but every kiss feels like the first—addictively sweet.

spencer clearly felt the same, because he couldn’t help but peck a few kisses to your forehead before opening the book to pick up where he left off.

his murmur of “me either” confirmed it too.

[kitkatscabinet]

MORNING CUDDLES

pairing: jason todd x gn! reader

requested: by anon as part of dc drabbles

You wake to the early morning rays filtering through the blinds and dancing across your face, the heavy, comforting weight of your boyfriend plastered against your side.

Jason had wrapped himself around you sometime in the night, like a moth to a flame. It didn't matter if you fell asleep on opposite sides of the bed, Jason would always inevitably seek you out.

His arms are locked tight around you, holding you in place like he’s worried you’ll vanish the second he loosens his grip. One arm's beneath your neck, serving as a pillow, the other wrapped around your waist. His hand's splayed across your stomach, his legs tangled with yours.

His nose is buried against your neck, and every now and then you feel the soft exhale of breath against your skin. The faint stubble on his jaw grazed your collarbone, and you smiled, eyes still closed, savoring the rare moment of peace.

For a few seconds, you just lie there, blinking against the soft morning light filtering through the blinds as you force yourself awake.

You shift a little, testing your boyfriend sized restraints only for Jason to grumble, tightening his grip as he attempts to pull you closer.

"G’mornin’," he mumbled, voice hoarse from sleep "You’re not allowed to move. Ever."

"You’re crushing me," you whispered back, though you're not truly bothered by it.

"Good," he murmured, nuzzling deeper. "Then you’ll have to stay and cuddle."

You let out a quiet sigh, running your fingers through his hair. "You’re such a sap in the morning."

Jason grunted. "Just for you."

You start to wiggle free, slowly trying to untangle yourself from Jason’s limbs without waking him fully. Naturally, you fail, and he swings a leg over yours, clinging to you like a Koala. "Where d’you think you’re going?" he mumbles, voice thick with sleep and petulance.

"I have work, Jay."

He groans, flopping halfway on top of you like a weighted blanket made of stubborn boyfriend. "Call in sick. Or dead. Tell them you were mauled by a very needy boyfriend."

You roll your eyes. "You know I can’t do that."

He opens one eye, staring up at you like a kicked puppy. "You love your job more than me?"

"I love you enough to keep the job that pays our rent," you tease.

Jason buries his face against your back mumbling something incoherent that sounds suspiciously like "capitalism wins again."

"You're such a baby."

"Your baby." He huffs, pulling you back against him. You sigh, resigned to your fate, and sink back into his arms.

"You've got ten more minutes."

"Twenty."

"...Don't push your luck."

[bytemee]

SECOND NATURE 3 — kim minjeong.

synopsis. teasing you has become her favorite hobby—especially now that she knows what makes you tick.

pairing. winter x fem!added!member!reader

warning(s). fluffy, winter is a tease, reader is kinda a loser lol, and let me know if there's more!

words. 1.5k

authors note. i know i said rendezvous update would be next but...chat...please...c'mon

navigation. main masterlist. request. part one. part two.

you're sitting behind the camera during a live, scrolling through chat with half an eye and munching on a snack. it’s an idle thing—minjeong’s doing the talking, answering questions from my while you're practically here to babysit so she doesn't spoil anything about your group's upcoming comeback.

"any artist you’d want to collab with in the future? oh, hm..." minjeong pauses, tapping her chin in thought.

you pause your chewing and lean forward, curious to hear her response. "iu."

did she just—? iu? you weren't expecting her to say you, obviously not; you’re not even a soloist. but still. you stare at her like she just betrayed the nation. she glances your way and grins at you, all teeth, and it makes you pout a little. how can she just casually say it like that, like she's not trying to crush your dreams with the simple act of mentioning someone else's name?

“wow,” you mutter, loud enough for the mic to pick up. “i thought you’d say me.”

minjeong’s grin doesn’t falter, though. if anything, it widens.

"i mean," she says. "of course i'd love to collab with our beloved y/n, but there are many other artists who are more worthy than her."

"yah!" you yell.

game day.

the finals. your team made it. you’ve got the match queued up on the big screen, snacks on the table, and the couch set like a shrine to your club. you’re wearing the jersey, the scarf, and the pride of someone who’s watched this team since they were six.

you don’t expect minjeong to watch with you. she never usually does.

but then she walks out of her room—wearing your team’s shirt.

your heart physically skips a beat.

you stare. you forget the snacks. you forget your name.

she plops next to you like it’s nothing. “who’s playing again?”

“you planned this,” you say, dazed.

“planned what?” she asks, blinking up at you, pure innocence.

“you’re evil,” you whisper.

the game starts. you don’t see any of it. not with her shoulder brushing yours, not with her humming the theme song mockingly. when your team scores, you yell. when they win, you jump to your feet—and then immediately point at her.

“you’re my lucky charm now.”

“oh?” she grins. “does this mean i get free snacks for life?”

“no,” you say seriously. “it means you wear that shirt forever. that’s a rule now.”

you’re talking to a staff member a few days later, telling some stupid comic book theory you have about multiverse timelines in dc. it's a nice little chat, casual. he's listening intently. it's fun, even though your voice is getting scratchy and you're so into the discussion you're using your hands too much.

you’ve never had a proper conversation about it with anyone here, and it feels refreshing to just get it all out, even if it’s way more complicated than it probably needs to be.

“…so if you think about it, right? there’s always a version of every hero, but what gets tricky is the overlapping timelines. like, if the flash changes something in one universe, it doesn’t just affect that timeline. it causes a ripple effect, but it doesn’t always stick. that’s why they bring in different versions of themselves to fix it, but then they risk creating even more divergent timelines. it’s like this whole cycle. some timelines… they just collapse in on themselves. boom. gone. do you see what i mean? it’s like—wow."

your hands are flying through the air now, cutting through the air as you use gestures to explain the theory. the staff member nods, laughing along, clearly amused and equally intrigued by your nerd rambling.

"imagine a timeline where wonder woman was raised by a human family instead of the amazons, or, or, or… if batman actually had powers? what do you think would happen to the universe? would that cause a catastrophic event? or maybe there are a thousand other batmen without powers that are basically the real version of batman. that'd be hilarious, but then we'd have to find out what caused the divergence. what if it was something stupid like his parents not dying? would he still become batman? or maybe he'd become a villain! i think that'd be cool, to see the dark, evil batman."

suddenly, there's an arm wrapping around your waist. you stop mid-sentence, freezing like a deer caught in headlights, as minjeong's fragrance fills your senses.

you glance up, blinking rapidly, trying to get your bearings, but she’s just there, her cheek resting against your shoulder as she whispers, "i see you're getting really passionate about this whole multiverse thing."

you feel the heat rise in your cheeks instantly. the hand that had been gesturing wildly moments ago now freezes mid-air, awkwardly hovering as you scramble to pull yourself together. "i—uh, yeah, i just—i'm, you know, just explaining it. nothing big."

minjeong chuckles, and you feel the vibrations of it against your shoulder. "you know,” she starts, “i didn’t realize you could talk for hours about comic books.”

you’re about to try and make a joke, but then you catch sight of the staff member beside you. he's clearly holding back a smile, looking between the two of you like he’s enjoying the show. you quickly lower your hand, your cheeks growing even warmer, and you mumble, “i, uh, i wasn’t talking that much…”

“you were,” she says, her grin growing wider, and that’s when it happens—she gives you another little squeeze, leaning in just a touch closer, her face tilting up toward your ear as she adds, “you know, you’ve been going on for, like, twenty minutes now. you must be really into it. kinda cute.”

you freeze again, your mouth open but no words coming out. her voice is soft, sweet, almost a murmur, and when you turn to look at her, her gaze is even softer. it doesn't help that she's standing so close, her breath ghosting over your skin. it's warm. inviting. her arm tightens around your waist as her lips curve into a smile, and you can't stop staring at her mouth.

and subsequently she whispers just loud enough for only you to hear, "i'm still your number one, though, right?”

you nod dumbly.

(of course, it's always her.)

after the awards show, you're exhausted and starving but still wrapped in your black suit, tie loosened but not gone. you and minjeong are bickering in the living room about dinner. the other members are scrolling delivery apps. you’re losing your mind.

“tteokbokki is a solid option,” you argue.

“you always say that,” minjeong replies, arms crossed.

“because it’s true! it is a solid option. and there are good ones nearby. and they deliver. it's easy and delicious, and we can get the extra cheese option. we need comfort food. please. come on. tteokbokki is the way to go here."

you stare her down, and she stares back. there's a battle happening in her eyes. you know she wants the same thing, but you're willing to fight tooth and nail for this.

she steps forward. grabs your tie.

pulls you down. face-to-face.

“we’re getting jjajangmyeon,” she says softly.

you forget every word you’ve ever known.

“cool?” she adds, lips inches from yours.

you nod. or black out. maybe both.

she lets go. turns to the others like nothing happened.

you stand there, gay-panicking like your body was struck by lightning.

you don’t post on bubble often. mostly updates, the occasional backstage pic, and once—because your members forced you—a blurry photo of your dog in a hat. you like the anonymity. when you do post, it's usually about a song you've listened to on repeat or an outfit you can't get enough of. but today, you decide to give your fans an update about your day.

you’re outside the practice room, waiting for aeri, as she wanted to grab dinner together. it's a rare moment of quiet, and you’re still in your sweats from the late practice that went way too long. your hair’s a mess, tucked under your favorite sock hat that you got custom-made for you last christmas.

you pull out your phone, unlock it, and stare at the screen for a minute. your fingers hover over the keyboard as you debate how to phrase the update.

you type quickly, your fingers moving with ease:

“sock hat. \^o^/ here's a photo of me i took before practice. how’s everyone else doing today?”

you pause, rereading it a few times, then hit send. just as you set your phone down and lean back, the notifications start popping up.

KARINA 💙: what are you doing

you blink. pause. your brain scrambles to remember—did you post that on bubble or—

oh no.

y/n: lol wait a minute y/n: how do i delete

NING: this is the bubble groupchat grandma 😭

y/n: wait when did we have a group chat?

y/n: can MY see this???

NING: yes

you nearly drop your phone trying to cover your face, heart racing like you just got caught doing something illegal.

winter: how do i save

winter: sock hat supremacy… you’re too cute !

y/n: …

KARINA 💙: …winters fav fashion icon everyone 🧦🎩

winter: you guys don’t understand how serious she is about that hat. i’ve seen it in three different colors.

NING: i saw it walk out of her suitcase on its own once

y/n: jealousy is a disease and i hope you all get well soon ❤️

winter: only jealous the sock hat gets to be that close to you 🙂‍↕️

y/n: yeah that’s enough

y/n: i’m logging off now

y/n: bye MY o(TヘTo)

GISELLE: sock hat aespa’s sixth member confirmed? GISELLE: wait are we still getting dinner? GISELLE: hello?

[urdreamydoodles]

DC Comics Characters x Fem!OC

You hurt yourself doing home renovations

Characters: Bruce Wayne, Kal-El (Clark Kent), Barry Allen, Diana of Themyscira, Arthur Curry, Hal Jordan, Oliver Queen, John Constantine, Roy Harper, Koriand'r (Starfire), Kara Zor-El (Supergirl), Slade Wilson, Kent Nelson (Dr. Fate), Rachel Roth, Zatanna Zatara & Wally West

Bruce Wayne aka. Batman

- Bruce notices the injury immediately; his sharp, calculating eyes miss nothing. “You’re hurt,” he says, his tone low but with an edge of worry that only someone close to him might detect. He takes your hand gently but firmly, examining the bandage with the practiced ease of someone who’s patched himself up countless times. “What happened?” he asks, his voice even, though his jaw tightens. You explain it was a minor accident during your renovation project, but he doesn’t look convinced.

- Without a word, Bruce retrieves a medical kit and kneels in front of you. His movements are efficient, his touch steady but surprisingly gentle. “This could’ve been worse,” he says as he rewraps the bandage, his voice tinged with a seriousness that makes your heart ache. “You need to be more careful.” It’s not just a suggestion—it’s a command born of a deep fear he rarely voices.

- “I’m helping you finish this,” he declares, standing and rolling up his sleeves. His presence is commanding, as always, and there’s no room for argument. Watching Bruce work is like watching a master strategist; every movement is calculated, every decision deliberate. Despite his seriousness, he pauses occasionally to ask if you’re okay, his concern manifesting in small but meaningful ways.

- As you work together, Bruce’s reserved demeanor softens slightly. He shares stories from his own mishaps at Wayne Manor, a rare glimpse into the man behind the mask. “Alfred still teases me about the time I tried to fix a chandelier,” he says, a faint smile tugging at his lips. It’s in these moments that you see the man behind the Bat—the man who loves you fiercely, even if he struggles to show it.

- That evening, as you sit in the newly completed space, Bruce wraps an arm around your shoulders. “You mean everything to me,” he says quietly, his voice filled with a rare vulnerability. “I can’t lose you.” He presses a kiss to your forehead, his lips warm and firm against your skin. Bruce’s love is steadfast, protective, and unyielding—a shield against the darkness that surrounds him.

Kal-El (Clark Kent) aka. Superman

- Clark’s face falls the moment he notices your injury. “What happened?” he asks, his voice filled with concern. His large, gentle hands take yours, his thumb brushing softly against the bandage. When you explain it was just a small accident during your renovation, his brow furrows in worry. “You should’ve called me,” he says, his voice warm but firm. “I would’ve been here in seconds.”

- He insists on checking your hand, his touch impossibly gentle. “I know it’s not serious, but even small injuries can hurt,” he says, his blue eyes meeting yours with a tenderness that makes your heart swell. As he examines the wound, his movements are deliberate, careful—a reflection of the restraint he always practices to keep his immense strength in check.

- “I’m not letting you finish this alone,” Clark declares, his easy smile returning. Watching him work is a sight to behold—his strength and speed make quick work of the tasks, but he’s careful to include you in the process. “You know, you’re pretty amazing for taking this on yourself,” he says, his admiration clear. “But maybe next time, let me do the heavy lifting.”

- Clark fills the room with his presence, his laughter ringing out as he shares stories of his childhood on the farm. “Pa used to say I could fix anything, but I don’t think he meant it literally,” he jokes, his grin infectious. His positivity is contagious, turning the task into a joyful experience rather than a chore.

- As the day winds down, Clark pulls you into his arms, holding you close as if you’re the most precious thing in the world. “You scared me today,” he admits, his voice soft. “You’re my world, and I can’t stand the thought of you getting hurt.” His love is vast and unwavering, a force of nature as steady and comforting as the sun.

Barry Allen aka. Flash

- Barry is at your side before you even realize he’s noticed your injury. “Hey, what’s this?” he asks, his voice tinged with concern as he gently lifts your hand. His blue eyes dart to the bandage, then back to your face. “You’ve been holding out on me, haven’t you?” he teases, but his worry is evident. “How’d this happen?”

- In a blur, he’s retrieved the first aid kit, his hands moving at super-speed to clean and rewrap your wound. “Don’t worry, you’re in good hands,” he says with a wink, though his focus is absolute. Barry’s always been quick—literally and emotionally—but when it comes to you, he takes his time, ensuring every detail is perfect. “You’ve got to let me know when you need help,” he says, his tone soft but sincere.

- “Alright, you’re officially benched,” Barry announces with a grin. “I’m finishing this for you.” He’s a whirlwind of energy as he tackles the project, moving so fast that you can barely keep track. But he makes sure to slow down just enough to include you, cracking jokes and asking your opinion at every step.

- Barry’s lighthearted nature turns the renovation into a fun adventure. “You know, if this whole superhero thing doesn’t work out, I might have a future in carpentry,” he says, laughing as he perfectly aligns a frame in a fraction of a second. His joy is infectious, and you find yourself smiling despite the day’s earlier chaos.

- At the end of the day, Barry pulls you into his arms, his touch warm and reassuring. “You’re my lightning rod,” he says softly, his words carrying the weight of his feelings. “I need you safe, always.” His love is fast and electrifying, but it’s also deeply grounding—a steady current that ties him to you, no matter how quickly the world moves around him.

Diana of Themyscira aka. Wonder Woman

- Diana’s gaze sharpens the moment she sees your bandaged hand. “What happened?” she asks, her voice steady but filled with concern. She moves closer, taking your hand in hers with a warrior’s precision and a lover’s tenderness. When you explain the accident, she frowns, her lips pressing into a determined line. “You should have called for me,” she says, her voice soft but firm.

- She kneels before you, her hands strong yet gentle as she examines your injury. “Even the smallest wounds must be treated with care,” she says, her tone carrying the wisdom of centuries. As she cleans and rewraps the bandage, her movements are deliberate, each one filled with a quiet reverence for your well-being. “Your safety matters to me,” she adds, her eyes meeting yours with unwavering sincerity.

- “Come,” Diana says, rising gracefully to her feet. “We will finish this together.” She takes the lead with effortless strength and grace, her presence commanding yet reassuring. Watching her work is mesmerizing; every movement is precise, every decision thoughtful. “This is good work you’ve started,” she says, her voice warm with pride. “But let me ease your burden.”

- Diana shares stories of Themyscira as you work, her voice rich with history and passion. “On my island, we build with our hands and our hearts,” she says, her smile radiant. “Each task is an opportunity to honor the strength within us.” Her words inspire you, her belief in your capabilities unwavering.

- That evening, Diana draws you into a gentle embrace, her arms strong and protective. “You are precious to me,” she says, her voice a soft melody. “I cannot bear the thought of you in pain.” She presses a kiss to your forehead, her lips lingering as if to seal her vow. Diana’s love is fierce and enduring, a flame that burns brightly and warmly, illuminating every corner of your heart.

Arthur Curry aka. Aquaman

- Arthur notices the bandage on your hand the moment he walks through the door, his sharp, sea-green eyes narrowing in concern. “What happened, love?” he asks, his deep voice steady but tinged with worry. When you explain the accident, he shakes his head with a low chuckle. “You’re as stubborn as the tides, you know that?” he says, though his expression softens as he takes your hand in his rough but gentle grip.

- “Let me see,” he says, his tone leaving no room for argument. He inspects your injury carefully, his calloused fingers brushing against your skin. “It’s not bad, but you’ve got to be more careful,” he mutters, his voice filled with a protective edge. Arthur’s care is practical, but there’s an underlying tenderness that speaks volumes about how deeply he feels for you.

- “Alright, you’re done for the day,” he declares, folding his arms across his broad chest. “I’ll handle the rest.” Despite your protests, Arthur’s determination is unyielding. Watching him work is a marvel; his strength makes heavy tasks look effortless, but he’s surprisingly meticulous, his movements precise and deliberate. “This is easy compared to wrangling sea monsters,” he teases, flashing you a grin.

- As he works, Arthur regales you with tales of Atlantis, his deep voice resonating like the waves. “Did I ever tell you about the time Mera and I rebuilt the coral spires after a storm?” he asks, his laughter rumbling like distant thunder. His stories are vivid and captivating, his love for his home—and for you—evident in every word.

- That evening, Arthur pulls you into his arms, his embrace as warm and encompassing as the ocean itself. “You scared me,” he admits, his voice low and serious. “You’re my anchor, and I can’t bear to see you hurt.” He presses a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering as if to soothe away all your worries. Arthur’s love is as vast and enduring as the sea, a force of nature that surrounds and protects you.

Hal Jordan aka. Green Lantern

- Hal’s easygoing demeanor shifts the moment he notices the bandage on your hand. “What’s this?” he asks, his voice filled with concern as he takes your hand gently. His green eyes scan the wound, his expression a mix of worry and amusement. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to play with sharp objects?” he teases, though his grip tightens protectively.

- “Alright, let me play doctor,” he says with a wink, summoning a glowing green construct of a first aid kit. Hal’s touch is careful as he rewraps your bandage, his usual bravado giving way to surprising precision. “You’ve got to be more careful,” he says softly, his tone carrying a weight that shows how much he cares.

- “Looks like I’m your personal handyman today,” Hal declares, conjuring a glowing hammer with a flourish. He tackles the project with his trademark confidence, his constructs turning the mundane task into something almost magical. “See? Easy,” he says, flashing you a cocky grin. “You’ve got the best in the business on your side.”

- As he works, Hal keeps you entertained with his endless banter and larger-than-life stories. “There was this one time on Oa…” he begins, spinning a tale that’s equal parts unbelievable and hilarious. His humor lightens the atmosphere, and his laughter is infectious, making even the simplest moments feel special.

- Later, as you sit together under the soft glow of his ring, Hal wraps an arm around you, pulling you close. “You know, you’re my reason to keep coming back to Earth,” he says, his voice uncharacteristically serious. “I don’t want anything happening to you.” His love is like his willpower—unshakable, glowing brightly and guiding you through even the darkest times.

Oliver Queen aka. Green Arrow

- “Whoa, hold up—what happened to your hand?” Oliver asks, his sharp gaze landing on your bandaged injury. Before you can brush it off, he’s already by your side, gently taking your hand in his. “You didn’t think to call me?” he teases, though his voice carries a hint of genuine worry. “I could’ve handled this in no time.”

- He grabs the first aid kit, his hands surprisingly deft as he unwraps and rebandages your wound. “You’ve got to be more careful, beautiful,” he says, his voice soft but firm. “I can’t have you sidelined—you’re my best partner, after all.” His touch is light, but the protective edge in his tone makes it clear how much he cares.

- “Alright, step aside. The Green Arrow is on the job,” Oliver says, flashing you a trademark smirk. Watching him work is an experience in itself—he’s efficient and surprisingly skilled, despite his playful demeanor. “Bet you didn’t know I was handy with a hammer, huh?” he jokes, his grin lighting up the room.

- Oliver keeps the mood light with his constant humor and quick wit. “You know, I once tried to fix a broken bowstring and ended up snapping three more,” he says, laughing at the memory. His charm is irresistible, and he has a way of making even the most tedious tasks feel fun and exciting.

- As the evening winds down, Oliver pulls you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you. “You scared me today,” he admits, his voice low and serious. “I’ve lost enough people in my life—I’m not losing you too.” He kisses your forehead, his lips warm and lingering. Oliver’s love is bold, passionate, and unwavering, a constant in your life that leaves you feeling cherished and protected.

John Constantine aka. Hellblazer

- John notices the injury immediately, his sharp eyes narrowing as he takes a long drag from his cigarette. “What’s this, then?” he asks, his voice a mix of concern and irritation. He steps closer, taking your hand in his surprisingly gentle grip. “Bloody hell, love, you’ve got to take better care of yourself,” he mutters, his usual sarcasm tempered by genuine worry.

- He doesn’t bother with a first aid kit—instead, he mutters a few words in Latin, and a faint glow surrounds your hand. “There, good as new,” he says with a smirk, though his eyes linger on you with a rare softness. “Don’t make me have to fix you up like this again, yeah?” he adds, his tone light but edged with seriousness.

- “Right, let’s see what mess you’ve gotten yourself into,” John says, surveying the unfinished renovation. He rolls up his sleeves and gets to work, grumbling under his breath but surprisingly competent. “Don’t look so shocked—I’m full of surprises,” he says with a wink.

- As he works, John keeps up a steady stream of sardonic commentary and darkly humorous anecdotes. “This reminds me of the time I tried to patch up a hole in my flat’s wall. Ended up summoning a demon instead,” he quips, his dry humor making you laugh despite yourself. His presence, though chaotic, is oddly reassuring.

- Later, as you both sit in the dim light, John lights another cigarette, his gaze softening as he looks at you. “You’ve got to be more careful, love,” he says quietly. “I’ve got enough demons to fight—I don’t need to be worrying about losing you too.” His love is raw, messy, and laced with his own brand of charm, but it’s as real and unshakable as the man himself.

Roy Harper aka. Arsenal

- Roy notices your bandaged hand the moment he steps in. “What the hell happened?” he asks, his voice laced with concern, though his trademark smirk softens the words. He takes your hand gently, his calloused fingers brushing against yours. “You didn’t think to call me? I’m literally a pro at making bad decisions—and patching them up after.”

- “Alright, sit tight,” he says, pulling out a first aid kit with a flourish. His movements are surprisingly precise, honed from years of taking care of himself and others. “This isn’t bad, but next time, maybe call me before you go all DIY warrior,” he jokes, though the worry in his eyes betrays his casual tone.

- Roy insists on helping you finish the project, despite your protests. “What kind of boyfriend would I be if I let you do this alone?” he says, grabbing a hammer with an exaggerated show of confidence. His work is a mix of skill and chaos—he’s good at what he does, but his playful energy keeps things unpredictable.

- As you work together, Roy’s humor keeps you laughing. “You know, I once tried to fix a broken bow. Ended up breaking three more,” he says, grinning at the memory. He’s full of stories, each one more absurd than the last, but they’re all delivered with a charm that makes you forget about the mess around you.

- Later, as you both sit back to admire the (somewhat chaotic) results, Roy pulls you close, his arm slung around your shoulders. “You mean the world to me, you know that?” he says, his voice softer than usual. “Don’t scare me like that again, alright?” His love is messy but wholehearted, a constant reminder that you’re his anchor in a turbulent world.

Koriand’r aka. Starfire

- Kori’s luminous green eyes widen in concern when she sees your bandaged hand. “Oh no, my love, what has happened?” she asks, taking your hand delicately in hers. Her warmth radiates through her touch as she examines the wound. “Does it pain you? Please, tell me how I can help.”

- She gently kisses your hand, her lips soft and glowing faintly. “On Tamaran, we believe healing begins with love,” she says, her voice filled with sincerity. She insists on tending to the injury herself, her movements careful and deliberate. Her concern is almost palpable, her love for you evident in every action.

- Kori is eager to assist with your project, her strength and enthusiasm turning what could have been a chore into an exciting adventure. “Let us work together,” she says, her smile bright enough to light up the room. Watching her lift heavy beams effortlessly and handle tools with childlike curiosity is both impressive and endearing.

- As you work side by side, Kori shares stories of her home planet. “On Tamaran, we build homes with our families, singing songs of unity and joy,” she says, her voice rich with nostalgia. Her passion for her culture and her desire to share it with you make the task feel meaningful and connected.

- At the end of the day, Kori pulls you into her embrace, her warmth enveloping you like sunlight. “You are my heart,” she says softly, her glowing eyes meeting yours. “I cannot bear the thought of you in pain.” She kisses your forehead tenderly, her love as radiant and boundless as the stars she comes from.

Kara Zor-El aka. Supergirl

- Kara’s superhuman senses catch your injury before you even try to hide it. “Wait—what happened to your hand?” she asks, her tone a mix of concern and mild panic. She’s by your side in an instant, her blue eyes scanning your bandage with laser-like focus. “You didn’t think to call me? I could’ve been here in a second!”

- She insists on checking your injury, her touch gentle despite her immense strength. “It’s not too bad, but I’m still worried,” she admits, biting her lip as she adjusts the bandage. “Next time, promise me you’ll let me help, okay?” Her voice is firm but filled with a tenderness that makes your heart melt.

- Kara takes over the renovation project with her usual enthusiasm, zipping around at super-speed to get things done. “This is so much easier than stopping meteors,” she jokes, flashing you a bright smile. Despite her incredible abilities, she makes sure to include you, asking for your input and slowing down to let you participate.

- As you work, Kara shares stories of Krypton, her voice filled with a mixture of sadness and pride. “Back home, we had machines to do most of this,” she says, a wistful smile crossing her face. “But I think there’s something special about doing it with your own hands—especially when it’s for someone you love.”

- Later, Kara wraps you in a warm hug, her strength carefully restrained but her affection boundless. “You’re my connection to this world,” she says softly, resting her forehead against yours. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.” Her love is like sunlight—pure, strong, and life-giving, a constant source of warmth and light in your life.

Slade Wilson aka. Deathstroke

- Slade notices your injury immediately, his single eye narrowing as he steps closer. “What happened?” he asks, his voice low and commanding. He takes your hand in his gloved one, his touch surprisingly gentle as he examines the bandage. “You’ve been careless,” he says, though his tone carries more concern than reprimand.

- Without a word, Slade pulls out a compact medical kit, his movements precise and efficient. “You should have called me,” he mutters, his focus entirely on your wound. “I don’t like seeing you hurt.” His care is methodical, almost clinical, but the way his fingers linger just slightly on your skin betrays his deeper feelings.

- Slade insists on taking over the renovation, his natural leadership coming through as he assesses the task. “Stand back,” he says, rolling up his sleeves. Watching him work is like watching a soldier in action—every movement calculated, every decision deliberate. “This isn’t my first time fixing something broken,” he quips, his dry humor catching you off guard.

- As he works, Slade shares fragments of his past, his gravelly voice tinged with a rare vulnerability. “This reminds me of when I used to build things with my son,” he says, his expression briefly softening. The glimpses of his humanity remind you of the man beneath the hardened exterior, the man who loves you in his own quiet, fierce way.

- Later, Slade pulls you close, his arm heavy and protective around your shoulders. “You’ve got to be more careful,” he says, his voice a low growl. “I’ve lost too much already—I’m not losing you.” He kisses your forehead briefly but firmly, his love intense and unyielding, like the man himself—a force that shields you from the world’s dangers, even as he battles his own demons.

Kent Nelson aka. Doctor Fate

- Kent’s piercing eyes behind the shimmering Helmet of Fate immediately fixate on your injured hand. “What have you done, my love?” he asks, his voice a blend of the mystical and the concerned. Without hesitation, he removes the helmet, his human side taking precedence. His hands, warm and steady, gently cradle yours as he inspects the wound.

- “This is a simple injury,” he murmurs, his voice calm but resolute. “But even the smallest wounds can lead to chaos if left untended.” A golden light surrounds his hand as he softly incants an ancient spell. The pain fades, replaced by a soothing warmth, though Kent remains watchful. “You must remember, you are precious to me beyond measure.”

- When he sees the half-finished renovation, Kent sighs softly. “It seems I have another task to tend to,” he says with a faint smile. With a wave of his hand, the room begins to shift and transform, guided by his mystical prowess. “Though I prefer to use magic sparingly, I believe this situation calls for a touch of Fate,” he teases lightly.

- As the room repairs itself under his guidance, Kent tells you stories of the endless mystic realms he has traversed. “In the realm of Amathur, they build their homes from living crystal, attuned to their souls,” he says, his voice carrying the weight of eons. His stories are mesmerizing, painting a picture of a universe far beyond your imagination.

- That evening, as the golden glow of his magic fades, Kent pulls you close, his mortal and immortal selves blending seamlessly in his affection for you. “You ground me, even amidst the chaos of the cosmos,” he whispers. “Do not let harm come to you, for you are my anchor to this world.” His love is profound and eternal, like the ancient forces he commands.

Rachel Roth aka. Raven

- Rachel notices the bandage immediately, her dark, violet eyes narrowing. “What happened?” she asks, her voice calm but laced with quiet concern. She steps closer, her fingers brushing against yours lightly. “You didn’t think to tell me?” she adds, her tone carrying just a hint of exasperation masked by worry.

- A soft, dark aura emanates from her hands as she murmurs a healing spell. “Let me take away the pain,” she says softly, her magic soothing the injury. “But next time, be more careful.” Her words are firm, but the tenderness in her actions speaks volumes about her love for you.

- Rachel insists on helping with the renovation, though her approach is unconventional. Using her magic, she levitates tools and materials, fixing everything with an eerie precision. “Why struggle when there’s an easier way?” she quips, a rare hint of humor gracing her usually serious demeanor.

- As she works, Rachel shares pieces of her past, her voice quiet but steady. “I used to dream of having a home like this—something stable, something real,” she admits. Her vulnerability in those moments is a reminder of the strength it takes for her to let you in, to allow herself to love and be loved.

- Later, as the room takes on a serene, almost otherworldly perfection, Rachel sits with you in the quiet. “I’m not used to caring this much,” she confesses, her voice barely above a whisper. “But you… you’ve shown me that it’s okay to let someone in.” Her love is deep and shadowed, like the magic she wields—powerful, transformative, and utterly consuming.

Zatanna Zatara aka. Zatanna

- “What’s this?” Zatanna asks, her sharp blue eyes immediately noticing your bandaged hand. She sets down her wand and takes your hand in hers, her touch warm and gentle. “You’ve been playing with tools without supervision, haven’t you?” she teases, though her concern is clear.

- “Let me fix this,” she says with a wink. She waves her hand, her words spoken backward as a soft, golden light surrounds your injury. “Esael ruoy niaP,” she says, and the pain dissipates. “Much better,” she adds with a playful smile. “But seriously, call me next time.”

- Zatanna insists on finishing the renovation with you, though her methods are far from ordinary. “Why use a hammer when you have magic?” she says, summoning tools and materials with a flick of her wrist. The room transforms under her guidance, every detail touched with a bit of theatrical flair.

- As she works, Zatanna keeps you entertained with stories of her performances and her magical adventures. “There was this one time in Paris where my spell accidentally turned an entire café into a circus,” she says, laughing. Her humor and charisma make even the mundane feel magical, her presence a constant source of joy.

- That night, as the newly restored room glows with a faint magical shimmer, Zatanna pulls you into her arms. “You’re my favorite audience,” she says softly, her voice filled with affection. “Don’t ever scare me like that again, okay?” Her love is vibrant and enchanting, a spell that binds you to her in the most wonderful way.

Wally West aka. Flash

- Wally zips into the room and immediately notices your hand. “Whoa, whoa, whoa—what happened here?” he asks, his words coming almost as fast as he moves. He’s by your side in an instant, gently taking your injured hand in his. “Why didn’t you call me? I could’ve been here in seconds!”

- He rushes to grab a first aid kit, moving so quickly you barely see him leave. “You’ve got to be more careful,” he says as he carefully rewraps your bandage. Despite his speed, his touch is gentle, his eyes full of concern. “Promise me you’ll let me help next time, okay?”

- Wally insists on finishing the renovation, his super-speed turning the task into a blur of activity. “This is easy,” he says with a grin, fixing things faster than you can even follow. “But hey, don’t blink—you might miss my best work!” His enthusiasm is infectious, making the entire process feel like a game.

- As he works, Wally keeps you laughing with his endless jokes and stories. “Did I ever tell you about the time I outran a black hole?” he says, his grin widening. His energy is boundless, his humor a constant source of lightness and joy in your life.

- Later, as the room stands perfectly completed, Wally pulls you close, his usual hyperactivity giving way to a rare moment of stillness. “You’re my world,” he says softly, his voice steady and sincere. “I can’t imagine life without you.” His love is like his speed—unstoppable, all-encompassing, and always rushing to your side.

[onlinedolly]

hello!! it’s so nice seeing another dc writer on here. your dad!erwin post was 👩🏻‍🍳💋 and i saw that you write for jjk. what are your thoughts on dad!gojo?? (he’s the love of ml)

cw: incest, p in v, baby trapping (slightly maybe), perv gojo

dad!toru makes me freak a little!!!!! ugh ugh i went w lil crazy i do apologize

dad!toru with crows feet and smile lines, who is the best dad in the world! at least, in your eyes. so loving and doting, it was different then it was with megumi, you were his. his precious girl, his angel, you were the sun and moon in his eyes i like to think.

and you and dad!toru had always been incredibly close, conjoined at the hip your mother used to always say, “practically twins!” you’d follow him around as a child, crawling into his lap, sitting right next to him on the couch, following him from room to room. and even at your adult age you suppose those habits didn’t break. you found yourself, more times then not, sprawled over your fathers lap while he watched tv, read the newspaper, busied himself with work. you were just always there and he loved it.

now that you were an adult dad!toru could see just how much you’ve changed. a image of your mother, yet softer and more…filled out. he’d realized he had these feelings, feelings a father should never have, when you began attending university. you were to go to a party, in a little black dress with a slit up the thigh, and it led into a heated argument and an image of you satoru found himself thinking of with his hand fisted around his cock.

and dad!toru doesnt really feel that guilty about it if we’re honest. he thinks that maybe he should, maybe it’d be better if he was riddled with guilt, disgusted by himself. maybe it’d make the urges settle. but they never did, and he spent most of his nights alone in bed picturing you in your pajama shorts, you in your underwear he caught glimpses of as he passed by the bathroom, you in nothing at all, as he’d cum around his hand.

when dad!toru finally snaps, finally makes a move that’s been years in the making, he’s surprised you don’t resist much. granted you didn’t know too awful much about sex, your father kept you pretty sheltered, and he made sure you cut off any friends who would put things like that in your head. so when he kissed you, rough and passionate, you simply kissed him back. it was sloppy and inexperienced and the thought of it had satorus cock leaking.

“i dunno..” was your only protest as he lays you back on the bed, crawling over you with a smirk on his face.

“don’t you love me?” he nosed your throat, peppering kisses down the length of it as you whined and nodded your head anxiously. that was all he needed to have your pajama shirt unbuttoned, taking a tit in his mouth and biting down on your nipple as you cry out.

he could feel the way you were trying to close your legs beneath and it lit a fire inside of him as he was quick to pulling your panties and shorts down. you whined, the feeling overwhelming, the feeling as if you were doing something wrong flashed over you. but it felt so good and he was your father, the last thing he was to do is put you in harms way right? he was pulling his sweats down as he pressed open mouth kisses to your tummy, down to your cunt.

“papa—“ you whine, wriggling underneath him in attempt to close your legs in shame. but satoru was too quick, pinning a leg down as he sees your cunt drool onto the bed.

“what a dirty girl.” he teases, lifting a finger up to run it up the length of you pussy, the feeling makes you yell out as he circles your clit softly. “i’m going to need to work you up, okay? i’m big and it’ll hurt if i don’t.” you weren’t sure what that meant, but you just nod your head, obedient as ever as he slips a finger inside of you.

the sensation burned, and it caused tears to prick your eyes as you mumble out a protest to which satoru just shushes. “give me a sec, you’re just so— tight.” he pulls his finger out before inserting it again making you whine out his name. soon he’s working you with two fingers, and then three, the sensation was dizzying. no more searing pain, just pure pleasure. unbeknownst to you, you were rocking against his fingers, looking for a spot you didn’t even know you had. and when he brushed your g spot you hollered out as he coos at you telling you what a good job you’re doing.

he coaxes an orgasm out of you, explaining how you’re feeling and what that means and how daddy’s only do this — like a good father should. and then he’s above you again, wiping your overwhelmed tears as he pushes himself into you with no warning.

the pain is back, except it’s tenfold, you cry out and dig your nails into his back as he groans. you were so tight and wet it made it hard to not cum from just pushing into you.

“everything’s okay now baby, you’re good ain’t cha?” he coos, pulling out to thrust back into you, letting you take him balls deep as you scratch at his back. he doesn’t give you time to adjust before he’s fucking into you ruthlessly, you’re sobbing as he angles his hips to press his cock against your g-spot before rutting himself in and out.

you aren’t doing much besides laying there, taking it, with sobs and moans escaping your lips. but that’s how toru likes it, being the one in complete control. he can feel the way your walls flutter around his cock, close to cumming as he searches for his own high. you both cum at the same time, you’re sobbing and yelling out as satoru releases inside of you. hot cum coating your walls and ur sends a shiver down your spine as you twitch. he wastes no time in pulling out once he’s done, placing a kiss to your tummy as he laughs, “maybe we’ll get one of our own.”