#hal jordan x reader imagine

[earlgreylatte]

Nicknames and Pet Names

Hal Jordan: Listen, we all know he’s a ‘babe’ kind of guy, it’s an inherent part of his vocabulary. Will literally loudly call out ‘babe’ across the grocery store, he’s so annoying. And of course, he’ll make up a nickname uniquely for you, based on something like one of your hobbies or habits. If you’re a Blue Lantern, you’re ’blueberry’. Probably has called you ‘nightlight’ or ‘glowstick’ before. (Internalized Lantern hate…)

Barry Allen: ‘Honey’. When you wake up, when he’s leaving home or coming back, during sex, he will be calling you ‘honey’ in that affectionate tone, blue eyes soft and fond. So clear to literally everyone that he’s wrapped around your finger. The first thing you see in the morning is him bathed in sunlight while whispering ‘honey’ as he gently rouses you from your sleep. ‘Darling’ or ‘love’ are also likely to leave his lips around you.

Booster Gold: Definitely comes up with something based on your name, shortening it or making it cutesy, like adding ‘bear’ or ‘poo’ to end of your name. Definitely does it to irritate or embarrass you. His usual nickname for you will probably be the first letter or syllable of your name. He also likes your name just fine, the type to say it over and over to get your attention. You two probably call each other ‘babygirl’.

Ted Kord: To match the whole insect theme, I can definitely see him calling you ‘ladybug’ or ‘mayfly’. Also shortens your name to the first letter or syllable. To others, I can see him referring to you as something mushy like ‘light of his life’ just to make others cringe. If you have a hero history too, then he’ll definitely have a nickname based on that. You call him ‘Teddy’, of course.

Bruce Wayne: Mostly sticks to your name, but definitely a ‘darling’ guy, especially when he’s trying to calm you down or if he knows he did something to wrong you. As Brucie Wayne, definitely refers to you as ‘his better half’. Known as a ‘wife guy’ on social media.

Dick Grayson: His favourite thing to call you is your name, it’s one of his favourite words, really. Definitely refers to you as ‘beautiful’ and ‘prettygirl/prettyboy’. Definitely refers to you as his (‘my (name)’) and himself as yours.

Jason Todd: I can definitely see him occasionally calling you ‘my dear’ or ‘madam’ in a British accent in lighthearted moments, breaking into laughter when you do. ‘Babe’ in the streets, ‘love’ in the sheets kinda guy. If you’re even a centimetre shorter than him, he will call you ‘munchkin’.

Roy Harper: ‘Sweetheart’ is definitely his go to, but I can also see creating nicknames, such as ‘doe eyes’ or ‘birdie’ based on your traits or behaviour. Depending on your relationship, probably refers to you as ‘momma’ when talking about his household with other people (moms at the school pickup) (‘Lian’s mom actually said—‘)

Wally West: You wonder if he even knows your name sometimes with how many petnames he goes through. ‘Babe’, ‘gorgeous’, ‘sweetie’, ‘love’, ‘his lightning rod’, and he could go on! Makes the times when he does say your name more intimate

Kyle Rayner: Mostly calls you by your name, but he’s also the least likely to date a civilian, having periods where he doesn’t even want to be on Earth, so dating a fellow ring wielder, space traveller, or hero is more likely and will cause him to nickname you based on that (Lantern colour, alias, etc). The type to describe you in an artsy, romantic way to others, comparing you to an azure sky or to stars.

Masterlist

[urdreamydoodles]

DC Comics Characters x Fem!OC

You smacks their ass as they walk past

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

After a short festive break, I'm back in force with my headcanons. My (hyper) brain has been obsessed with DC lately, so get ready for some DC headcanons with new characters I've never done before. I missed you all, love, Marie.

Bruce Wayne aka. Batman

- You didn’t mean to do it. Well, that’s a lie. You absolutely meant to do it. The way Bruce’s broad, suited figure strode past you in the Batcave was simply too tempting. There he was, the epitome of brooding composure, running a hand through his dark hair as he mulled over crime scene reports. Without much thought, your hand acted on instinct. Smack. The sound echoed through the cavern like a gunshot. Bruce stopped mid-step. Slowly, he turned his head, an arched eyebrow lifting to meet his ever-present scowl. "Really?" he asked, voice calm but laced with that unmistakable Wayne edge.

- His reaction wasn’t anger, though you could see the faintest twitch of amusement in the corner of his mouth. You, the only one in Gotham—or perhaps the world—who could dare to breach his stoicism with something so mundane as a playful swat. You crossed your arms, feigning innocence, though your smirk betrayed you. “What? Just testing your reflexes, Mr. Wayne.” He took a slow step toward you, his shadow sprawling like a cloak. “I thought you’d want to keep that hand intact,” he murmured, but there was warmth in his voice that belied the threat.

- Bruce never let much show, but you knew the man beneath the cowl better than anyone. As much as he loved his mission, as much as he carried Gotham on his weary shoulders, he loved you more. There was no hiding the way his stern exterior softened around you, how his dark eyes gleamed with affection when he thought you weren’t looking. And now, despite his unflinching persona, you saw a flicker of vulnerability in the way he lingered near, uncertain if he should let himself laugh.

- “Next time,” he finally said, his voice low, “make sure Alfred isn’t around to hear it.” His lips quirked into the barest smile before he turned back to the Batcomputer. Yet, as he walked away, you could swear he slowed his stride, almost as if daring you to do it again. You didn’t, of course. Not then. But the idea of Gotham’s Dark Knight flustered by a simple smack was too delicious to forget. And Bruce knew it.

Clark Kent (Kal-El) aka. Superman

- Clark didn’t see it coming. How could he, when he was too busy carrying three bags of groceries in each hand and balancing a box of pastries in the crook of his elbow? You watched him shuffle toward the kitchen counter, his broad shoulders filling the doorway, his wholesome, Midwestern charm radiating even in the simplest acts. As he passed, you couldn’t resist. Smack. The clap of your hand against his ridiculously perfect backside made him jump slightly, the pastries nearly tumbling from his grip. “Hey!” he exclaimed, spinning around, cheeks flushed pink.

- For someone faster than a speeding bullet, Clark sure could get caught off guard by you. His face was an endearing mix of surprise and bashfulness, and you swore the man looked like he’d just been scolded by Ma Kent herself. “What was that for?” he asked, his voice filled with genuine confusion but also a hint of laughter. You shrugged, batting your lashes. “Couldn’t resist. You’re carrying so much cake, after all.” He groaned at the pun but couldn’t keep from smiling.

- Clark, despite his extraordinary origins, was at his core a simple man. A man who loved sharing quiet evenings with you, cooking together, and pretending the world didn’t need him for a little while. He was also devastatingly kind, a trait that extended to how he loved you—with full-hearted sincerity and no room for doubt. So when he looked at you now, shaking his head with a chuckle, you knew he wasn’t really annoyed.

- “You’re unbelievable,” he said, placing the pastries safely on the counter. Then, faster than you could blink, his arms wrapped around you, pulling you close with that impossible strength. “But if you’re going to tease, you’d better be prepared to deal with the consequences.” His grin was all boyish mischief as he tickled your sides, your laughter ringing through the kitchen. You swore he let you win when you finally broke free. Clark Kent, the strongest man alive, completely at your mercy.

Barry Allen aka. Flash

- Barry didn’t even stop moving. You were sure he noticed, though, because as you walked past him in the hallway and your hand made contact with his backside, he nearly tripped over his own feet. For the Flash, that was saying something. “Did you just—” he started, spinning to face you. His words were drowned out by your laughter as he stood there, red-faced and wide-eyed, his usual chatter momentarily short-circuited.

- “What?” you asked innocently, though your grin betrayed you. Barry spluttered for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck. “I—I wasn’t expecting that!” he managed, his voice pitching higher than usual. You loved how easy it was to fluster him, even though he was one of the smartest, fastest people in the world. “You’ve got to work on your reaction time, hero,” you teased, winking as you sauntered away.

- Barry’s mind was racing, as it always did, but now it wasn’t just thoughts of his latest case or some quantum theory experiment. No, now it was you—how you could so effortlessly knock him off balance with a single playful act. He adored you for it, for the way you brought lightness and humor into his often chaotic, exhausting life. You were his anchor, his calm in the storm of velocity and danger.

- Later, when he zipped into the living room with snacks for your movie night, he couldn’t resist a little payback. As he placed the bowl of popcorn on the table, he leaned in close, his lips brushing your ear. “Tag,” he whispered, and before you could respond, he darted away, leaving a gentle swat on your hip in his wake. Your laughter followed him, echoing in the space he’d just vacated. Barry might be the fastest man alive, but you were the one who always left him breathless.

Diana of Themyscira aka. Wonder Woman

- You didn’t think it was possible to catch Diana off guard. The Amazon princess was grace and power personified, her every movement deliberate, her every action precise. But when you passed her in the sunlit garden and gave her a cheeky smack, she stopped mid-step. Her head turned slowly, her azure eyes narrowing as her lips curled into a knowing smirk. “Did you just strike a warrior?” she asked, her voice a blend of amusement and mock reprimand.

- “A warrior with impeccable form,” you shot back, bold as ever. Diana’s laughter rang out, melodic and warm, her posture relaxing as she faced you fully. “You’re fortunate I consider this an act of affection,” she teased, stepping closer. The sunlight caught her dark hair, casting her in an almost ethereal glow. She was intimidating and beautiful, a goddess among mortals, yet in this moment, she was utterly human—and yours.

- Diana loved how unafraid you were of her strength, her presence. So many treated her like a distant, untouchable figure, but you reminded her that she was more than her titles or her mission. You made her laugh, you challenged her, and you weren’t afraid to be playful with her—even when it came to something as bold as this. She admired your spirit, your fire, the way you met her gaze without hesitation.

- “You realize,” she said, her tone mock-serious as she closed the gap between you, “that this is an invitation for retaliation.” Before you could react, her arms wrapped around you, lifting you effortlessly off the ground. Her laughter joined yours as she spun you once before setting you back down. “Careful, my love,” she warned, pressing a kiss to your temple. “A warrior never forgets.” But the smile on her lips promised she’d never stop loving your daring nature.

Arthur Curry aka. Aquaman

- You should have known better than to smack Arthur Curry as he walked past, the salty scent of the sea clinging to him like a second skin. The man was built like a fortress, with muscles that rippled beneath his tank top and a stride that exuded the confidence of a king. As your hand connected with his backside, the smack echoed through the cozy beach house you shared. Arthur stopped mid-step, his broad shoulders tensing. Slowly, he turned his head, a grin spreading across his rugged, sun-kissed face. “You sure you want to start this game, love?”

- He set down the fishing net he’d been carrying, his piercing green eyes narrowing playfully as he took a deliberate step toward you. You couldn’t help but laugh, holding your ground even as he loomed closer, his smirk promising trouble. “I couldn’t resist,” you said, your voice light. “It’s not every day a queen gets to remind her king who’s really in charge.” Arthur barked out a laugh, the sound deep and rich like the ocean waves outside. “Oh, is that so?” he rumbled, his hands finding his hips.

- Arthur loved your boldness, the way you matched his fiery spirit without hesitation. You were one of the few people who could keep up with him—whether it was challenging his quick temper, teasing his authority, or standing beside him when the burdens of two worlds weighed heavily on his shoulders. You weren’t afraid of his strength, his power, or the scars that told the story of his battles. Instead, you met him head-on, reminding him of the joy and levity he often forgot.

- “Alright,” he said finally, leaning down until his face was inches from yours, his grin widening. “But just remember—you started it.” Before you could react, his large hand swatted your hip, the playful strike making you gasp and laugh at the same time. “That’s for round one,” he teased, straightening as he headed toward the kitchen. “Let’s see if you’ve got the guts for round two.” You watched him go, shaking your head. King of the seas? More like king of cheeky comebacks.

Hal Jordan aka. Green Lantern

- You didn’t even plan it. Hal Jordan had been walking past, cocky as ever in his flight jacket, tossing his keys onto the counter with that easy swagger that made your heart race and your patience thin in equal measure. Before you knew it, your hand moved of its own accord. Smack. The sound was sharp, and Hal froze, mid-step, his head snapping toward you. For a moment, his mouth opened, but no sound came out. Then, finally, he broke into a grin. “Well, hello to you too,” he said, his voice dripping with amusement.

- Hal was never one to back down from a challenge, and you knew that all too well. “Careful,” he warned, his green eyes sparkling as he took a slow step toward you. “You’re playing with fire here, gorgeous.” You shrugged, feigning innocence. “Oh, please. If you’re so tough, you should be able to handle a little pat on the back. Or… elsewhere.” His laughter was immediate, loud and free, filling the room like music. “You’ve got a lot of nerve, you know that?”

- That was what Hal adored about you. He’d spent so much of his life surrounded by danger and responsibility—whether it was saving the universe as Green Lantern or pulling insane aerial stunts as a test pilot. But you? You were his gravity, his reminder that life wasn’t all about proving himself. You made him laugh in a way no one else could, and even when you pushed his buttons, he couldn’t help but fall a little more in love with you each time.

- “Alright,” he said, slipping his jacket off and tossing it onto the couch. “You wanna play dirty? Let’s play dirty.” Before you could react, Hal’s ring glowed, and a green construct of a feather appeared in his hand. “Let’s see how tough you are when the tables turn.” You squealed, darting behind the couch as he followed, grinning like a kid in a candy store. Hal Jordan might be fearless, but you knew his real weakness—your laugh, your smile, your ability to keep him on his toes.

Oliver Queen aka. Green Arrow

- Oliver Queen barely flinched when your hand smacked his backside as he walked past the kitchen counter, a bow slung over his shoulder. Instead, he stopped, cocking his head to the side with a slow smirk spreading across his handsome, scruffy face. “Well, that’s one way to get my attention,” he drawled, turning to face you. His emerald-green eyes sparkled with mischief, and you could already tell he was plotting some form of retaliation. “Should I be worried, or was that just your way of saying ‘good shot’?”

- “You’ve been spending too much time in the field,” you teased, crossing your arms and leaning against the counter. “Thought I’d remind you who really has the aim around here.” Oliver laughed, the sound warm and rich as he set his bow down carefully. “Oh, really? You think you can out-shoot me and out-smart me in my own house?” His tone was playful, but you knew the archer in him couldn’t resist a challenge.

- Oliver loved that about you—your boldness, your fire, the way you never let him take himself too seriously. It was a rare gift to be able to break through the walls he built around himself, the layers of guilt and responsibility he carried as Star City’s protector. But you didn’t just break through; you tore those walls down with humor, love, and a fearlessness that matched his own. You reminded him of the man beneath the hood, the one who still knew how to laugh and love.

- “Alright,” he said, stepping closer and resting his hands on either side of the counter, trapping you in place. “But just so we’re clear—if this is your idea of flirting, I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve too.” Before you could respond, he leaned in and kissed you deeply, stealing your breath and your smugness all at once. When he pulled back, his grin was pure Oliver Queen. “Your move, pretty bird.”

John Constantine aka. Hellblazer

- When your hand smacked John Constantine’s backside, his reaction was immediate—a sharp intake of breath, followed by a low, throaty chuckle that promised trouble. He turned to face you, cigarette dangling from his lips, his trench coat swirling slightly with the motion. “Well, well, love,” he drawled, his voice tinged with that unmistakable cockney accent. “Didn’t think you had it in you. Careful now—you’re playing with fire.”

- “Oh, please,” you shot back, smirking. “You deal with demons, curses, and apocalyptic prophecies daily. You can handle a little slap.” His grin widened, and he took a step closer, the scent of tobacco and leather surrounding you. “You’ve got some cheek, you know that?” he said, taking the cigarette from his mouth and flicking the ash into the tray. “But that’s why I keep you around. Keeps me on my toes.”

- John wasn’t used to this—lightness, laughter, love. His life was a whirlwind of darkness and chaos, and yet, somehow, you had wormed your way into his blackened heart. You brought him peace in a way no spell or sigil ever could. And while he’d never admit it outright, he adored the way you challenged him, kept him grounded, and gave him something to fight for beyond his own self-loathing.

- “But fair warning, darling,” he said, his voice dropping to that low, gravelly tone that sent shivers down your spine, “I don’t play fair.” Before you could react, he whispered a quick spell under his breath, and suddenly, your shoes were glued to the floor. “There,” he said with a wink, taking a drag of his cigarette. “Let’s see if you’re still so bold when you can’t run away.” Your laughter filled the room as he walked off, his shoulders shaking with amusement. Classic Constantine—always one step ahead, but always hopelessly smitten with you.

Roy Harper aka. Arsenal

- You really couldn’t resist. Roy Harper had been strutting around the apartment like he owned the place, shirtless, a bow slung across his back, humming some old rock tune under his breath. His cocky energy was palpable, and when he passed by you in the living room, it was instinctive. Smack. Your hand connected with his jean-clad backside, and the sound was sharp enough to cut through his off-key singing. Roy froze, turning slowly with a look of mock betrayal. “Did you just…? Oh, you’re really asking for it now, gorgeous.”

- You leaned back against the couch, smirking. “What? Just checking if Arsenal’s reflexes are still sharp.” Roy placed a hand on his hip, pointing at you with the other. “You’re lucky I didn’t just shoot an arrow in surprise,” he teased, though the grin tugging at his lips made it clear he was anything but annoyed. “But fine. If we’re doing this, let me warn you—I don’t fight fair.”

- Roy loved that you didn’t take him too seriously. In a life full of chaos, mistakes, and battles, you were his sanctuary, the one person who could knock him off his pedestal in the best way. Your playful antics reminded him that not everything had to be about proving himself or fighting the next big battle. You were his partner in every sense of the word—his laughter, his balance, his home.

- “Alright, beautiful,” he said, dropping the bow and cracking his knuckles. “You know what happens when you mess with me, right?” Before you could react, he pounced, pinning you to the couch in an exaggerated wrestling move that had both of you laughing uncontrollably. “This is justice!” he declared dramatically, tickling your sides until you were begging for mercy. Roy Harper was impossible, but then again, so were you, and you wouldn’t trade him for anything.

Koriand’r aka. Starfire

- The reaction was immediate. As your hand connected with Koriand’r’s backside while she passed you in the hallway, she stopped mid-step, her fiery hair glowing faintly as it caught the light. Slowly, she turned to face you, her wide green eyes blinking in confusion. “Was that… an Earth custom of affection?” she asked, her tone curious but tinged with amusement. You couldn’t help but burst out laughing, her innocent confusion melting any attempt at feigned innocence. “Sure, Kori. It’s totally a custom. Very common.”

- Kori tilted her head, a thoughtful expression crossing her beautiful features. “How interesting,” she said, stepping closer to you. “On Tamaran, we express affection with embraces, kisses, and occasionally by flying into the air with loved ones. But this… this is new. I like it!” Her radiant smile made your heart flutter, and you could see the mischief spark in her gaze. “Does this mean I can do it back?”

- You adored how open and loving Kori was. She embraced life with the same passion she brought to battle, and her joy was contagious. Loving her meant constantly learning to see the world through her eyes, where every experience—big or small—was worth celebrating. You could never get enough of the way she made even the smallest moments feel like an adventure.

- “You may want to prepare yourself!” she declared suddenly, her arms wrapping around you in a warm, powerful embrace. Before you could protest, she lifted you effortlessly off the ground, spinning you in circles as laughter bubbled out of both of you. When she finally set you down, she pressed a kiss to your forehead and gave you a playful tap on your backside. “This is a wonderful custom!” she declared with a bright giggle. You’d created a monster, and you couldn’t have been happier about it.

Kara Zor-El aka. Supergirl

- Kara Zor-El nearly dropped the bowl of popcorn she was carrying when your hand smacked her backside. Nearly. Her Kryptonian reflexes kicked in, and she saved the snack, spinning around with a look of wide-eyed disbelief. “Did you just…?!” she stammered, her cheeks flushing a deep red. You leaned casually against the counter, biting back a grin. “What? Just making sure Earth’s strongest woman doesn’t have any blind spots.”

- “Blind spots?!” Kara exclaimed, placing the bowl down with exaggerated care. “You’re lucky I don’t fly you straight into the stratosphere for that.” But the way she crossed her arms and pouted made it clear she wasn’t actually upset. If anything, she was flustered—adorably so. “You’re impossible, you know that?” she muttered, though the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her.

- Kara loved how comfortable you were around her. So many people treated her like a symbol or a savior, but you just treated her like Kara. You teased her, laughed with her, and never let her powers overshadow the fact that she was just a girl trying to navigate life on a new planet. Being with you grounded her, reminded her that even superheroes deserved to let their guard down and have fun.

- “Fine,” she said finally, her lips quirking into a mischievous grin. “But don’t think I won’t get you back.” Before you could respond, she darted forward at super-speed, giving your side a playful nudge that sent you stumbling into the couch. She was back in her original spot before you could blink, arms crossed and a victorious smirk on her face. “Kryptonians don’t lose, you know,” she teased, her laughter filling the room.

Slade Wilson aka. Deathstroke

- You weren’t entirely sure what possessed you to do it. Slade Wilson wasn’t exactly known for his sense of humor, but as he passed you in the training room, his armor catching the dim light, the temptation was too strong. Your hand smacked his backside, the sound loud in the otherwise quiet space. He stopped immediately, his head turning just enough for his single visible eye to lock onto you. The sharp, dangerous glint in his gaze made your heart race. “You’re braver than I thought,” he said, his voice a low, gravelly rumble.

- “And you’re slower than I thought,” you shot back, unable to resist. His brow arched, and you could see the corner of his mouth twitch—was that amusement? “Careful,” he warned, stepping closer, his imposing frame casting a long shadow. “You might find out just how fast I can be.” Despite his intimidating presence, you refused to back down, crossing your arms and smirking up at him. “Oh, I’m counting on it.”

- Slade had always admired your boldness. In a world where most people either feared him or tried to use him, you were a refreshing change. You didn’t treat him like a weapon or a monster—you saw the man beneath the mask, the one who carried the weight of too many sins. Your audacity, your fire, reminded him of the parts of himself he thought he’d buried long ago.

- “Alright,” he said, his tone deceptively calm as he leaned in, his face inches from yours. “But don’t forget—every action has a consequence.” Before you could respond, his hand darted out, delivering a sharp but playful swat to your hip. You gasped, more in surprise than pain, and he straightened, his smirk now fully formed. “Your move,” he said, turning and walking away with the measured confidence of a man who always had the upper hand. And yet, you could see the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. For all his gruffness, Slade Wilson was undeniably charmed by you.

[solar-wing]

⚣ Hal Jordan: NSFW Alphabet 🟢⚪

⚣🟢⚪️ A/N → Welp, you guys wanted more Green Lantern content (and lowkey, I did to), so Merry Christmas! Honestly, I'm quite shocked at how much came out of this. But then again, Hal just has a way of getting to me...🫦welp...enjoy!

⚣🟢⚪️ Word Count → 12K

REBLOGS and replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛

⚣ ENJOY 🟢⚪️

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

– Hal Jordan may swagger into the bedroom with the confidence of a man who’s saved the universe countless times, but his aftercare is where the duality of his character shines. Post-climax, he’s all about keeping the mood light, tossing out cocky remarks like, “Admit it, that was the best you’ve ever had, right? I mean, I did just blow your mind.” The grin on his face says he’s half-joking, but the glint in his eye says he’s fishing for confirmation. His ego loves knowing you’re thoroughly wrecked—and let’s face it, he probably did live up to the hype.

– But under the smug exterior lies a man who takes aftercare just as seriously as the main event. Hal knows how intense he can get during the act, with his relentless stamina and the sheer physicality he brings to every round. He doesn’t just leave you sprawled and dazed; he makes sure to check in, his large hands trailing softly over your skin as he murmurs, “Too sore? Need me to grab anything?” He’ll tease, of course—“Didn’t think you’d be able to keep up with me, but you did good.”—but it’s all part of his way of putting you at ease.

– Hal’s attentiveness extends to cleaning up the evidence of your activities, a task he approaches with the same confidence as everything else. Whether it’s a towel to wipe down your body or an exaggerated groan as he gets out of bed to find a spare blanket, Hal doesn’t let you lift a finger. He’ll even run a hand down your thigh as he tucks the covers around you, his lips quirking into a smirk as he whispers something entirely inappropriate, like, “Bet you’re still feeling me there, huh?” His playful arrogance is almost endearing—almost.

– The vulnerability he hides so well emerges in quieter moments. If you’re spent and too blissed out to move, Hal will gather you against his chest, still warm and slick from your shared efforts, and stroke your hair absentmindedly. He’s careful not to make a big deal of it—he doesn’t want you realizing how soft he can be—but his touch is deliberate, grounding you as you come back to earth from whatever peak he just sent you to. He might even whisper, voice husky, “You looked so good back there, you know. Couldn’t keep my eyes off you.”

– But if you call him out for being sweet or overly attentive, the cocky mask slips back on in record time. “What? I’m just making sure my partner’s in one piece,” he’ll quip, though the pink dusting his cheeks betrays him. Still, it’s clear he relishes these moments just as much as the action itself, even if he hides it behind his usual bravado.

– Hal’s aftercare is as intense and satisfying as the main event: a perfect blend of teasing, tenderness, and the kind of care that only comes from someone who pays attention to every detail—even if he’d never admit it outright.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

– When it comes to Hal Jordan, there’s no denying that his favorite body part is... well, all of him. And honestly, can you blame him? Hal’s Green Lantern suit—skin-tight and sculpted perfectly to his frame—shows off every inch of his physique in painstaking detail, from the broad expanse of his chest to the sharp definition of his thighs. The suit is formed by his willpower, after all, and Hal has no intention of leaving anything to the imagination. He’s fully aware of how good he looks in it and takes every opportunity to remind others, whether it’s through a smirk or a playful, “Can’t help it if the uniform does all the work.”

– If pressed to choose, though, Hal would probably say his favorite parts are the ones people notice first: his arms, chest, and back. His arms are undeniably impressive—thick and corded with muscle, the result of years spent as a test pilot and Green Lantern. He loves how they look when he’s lifting or holding you, the subtle flex of his biceps drawing attention without even trying. “Bet you can’t keep your eyes off these, huh?” he might tease, flexing just enough to make you roll your eyes (and blush).

– His chest—a feature that somehow manages to look both approachable and commanding. It’s broad enough to provide comfort when you lean into him, yet strong enough to carry the weight of his responsibilities. And let’s be real: Hal definitely notices when your eyes linger there, even if he pretends not to. He’s the type to smirk and say something ridiculous, like, “Careful, I’m starting to think you’re just here for the view.”

– His back, though, is what really sets him apart. It’s not about sheer size but the way every movement highlights the smooth, lean strength he carries. Whether he’s flying, creating a construct with his ring, or throwing a playful glance over his shoulder, his back tells its own story. It’s graceful and functional, a reflection of the precision and control that define both his role as a Green Lantern and his daredevil tendencies. He relishes the way your hands linger there too and is especially smug about the fact that his back is just as enticing when it’s bare, a fact you’ve undoubtedly confirmed more than once.

– And while Hal would never openly talk about it, his manhood absolutely makes the list. Of course, he’s proud of that too—he’s Hal Jordan, after all—but he’d rather let his partner be the one to sing its praises (and trust him, he loves hearing those praises). Still, when it comes to the parts of him that draw attention first, it’s the show-stopping combination of arms, chest, and back that take the spotlight. After all, what’s the point of saving the universe if you can’t look damn good doing it?

– Now, as far as you and Hal’s favorite part(s) on you, it’s all about your hands. As a man who thrives on touch and connection, he’s completely enamored by the way your hands look on him. There’s something intoxicating about how they feel clasped in his during a quiet, intimate moment, or the way they roam over his arms, chest, or back when things heat up. He lives for that tactile worship, his ego swelling every time your fingers linger on his muscles, tracing the contours of his body like you’re mapping out uncharted territory. – And when he’s carrying you—whether it’s out of danger or into the bedroom—he’ll revel in how your hands instinctively cling to him, nails digging into his shoulders or trailing down his back.

– But here’s the thing: Hal isn’t just a sucker for your hands—he’s an unapologetic ass man through and through. It’s practically written into his DNA. That skin-tight Green Lantern suit of his? It’s not just for show. Every inch of him is pressed flush against you when he’s feeling bold, and he loves nothing more than sidling up behind you, his front teasingly snug against your back. His gloved hands will inevitably slide down to cup you, pulling you closer as he murmurs something utterly shameless into your ear, like, “This is my favorite view. Don’t you think the suit was made for moments like this?”

– Hal doesn’t just stop at appreciating the visual—oh no, he’s tactile to the core. He’s constantly finding excuses to touch, grab, and admire every curve. Whether it’s a teasing slap as you walk by or his hands firmly gripping your hips while he’s pressing you into a wall, Hal’s all about staking his claim. And let’s not forget the sheer amusement he gets when he’s grinding against you, letting you feel exactly how worked up he’s gotten just from the sway of your hips or the way your body fits against his. He’ll chuckle low in your ear, his breath warm against your skin as he says, “You know, it’s really not fair how good you look in that. What are you trying to do to me?”

– But it’s not just a physical thing for Hal—it’s the reactions he draws out of you that really get him going. He loves watching your body respond to his touch, the way your muscles tense or relax under his hands. And when you let out a breathy moan or arch into him? That’s game over. He’ll double down, his lips trailing across your neck as his hands roam freely, all while whispering praises and downright filthy promises of what’s to come.

– For Hal, your body is a playground, and he’s intent on exploring every inch of it. But there’s something about the way you fit so perfectly in his arms—how your body molds to his—that makes him wonder if his ring knew exactly what it was doing when it chose him. And if that thought doesn’t make you blush, well, his hands slipping lower as he asks, “Mind if I take another look?” certainly will.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

– When it comes to Hal Jordan, let’s just say he’s a shooter—and an impressive one at that. Hal’s release is intense, a reflection of the passion and energy he pours into everything he does. You’ll know exactly when he reaches his peak because it’s overwhelming, almost explosive. The first few shots hit with purpose, leaving no doubt that Hal’s body is working overtime to ensure you’re thoroughly marked. He’s not just a Green Lantern; he’s practically a human firework in bed, and trust him, he’s proud of it.

– As for volume? Oh, Hal’s got you covered—literally. One load from him is enough to leave you a sticky, heaving mess, dripping with evidence of just how thoroughly he’s claimed you. It’s not a small amount either; Hal’s stamina translates directly into how much he can produce, and let’s just say his reserves are far from empty. You might even tease him about how much there is, only for him to smirk and fire back, “What can I say? I’m thorough.”

– The potency of his seed is no joke either. Hal’s the kind of guy who doesn’t half-ass anything, and that includes what his body produces. It’s thick, warm, and unmistakably him—a perfect mix of his raw masculinity and the relentless willpower that fuels him. He’ll revel in the sight of you completely covered, running his fingers through the mess he’s made and murmuring something utterly filthy, like, “You wear me so well, you know that? Might have to keep you like this for a while.”

– If you prefer things a little cleaner, though, Hal’s just as happy taking things inside. He loves the idea of filling you to the brim, of leaving you so full that you feel him even after the moment’s passed. And when you shift or move afterward, feeling the evidence of him still lingering inside you? That’s enough to send him into another round. He’ll press a hand to your stomach, grinning devilishly as he whispers, “Still feel me, don’t you? Don’t worry—I’ve got more where that came from.”

– With Hal, it’s never just about the act itself—it’s about the aftermath too. He loves seeing the aftermath of his passion, whether it’s the mess he’s left on your skin or the way your body trembles in the afterglow. And if he has his way, he’ll make sure you’re carrying the memory of him long after the moment’s over, in every possible sense of the word.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

– Hal Jordan’s dirty little secret? He gets off on the thrill of being caught. As fearless as he is in the field, there’s something about pushing the boundaries of propriety in his personal life that really gets his heart racing—and other parts of him too. The idea of sneaking away with you during a high-stakes mission or ducking into a secluded corner of the Watchtower for a quick, forbidden rendezvous? That’s his personal kryptonite.

– What makes it scandalous is just how close he’s come to being discovered. Hal has a habit of taking risks, from pulling you onto his lap in the pilot’s seat of his fighter jet to whispering filthy promises into your ear when you’re supposed to be focused on a meeting. And while he’d never let anyone else catch a glimpse of what’s his, there’s something about the risk of Superman walking in mid-act or Batman figuring out what’s really going on in the supply closet that sends a jolt of adrenaline straight to his core. He’d laugh it off if anyone accused him—“Me? Do something like that? Nah, you’ve got the wrong guy.”—but the flushed ears and cocky grin would give him away.

– The most shocking part of all? Hal keeps a personal collection of mementos from his riskier encounters: a photo snapped in secret during an especially steamy moment in the cockpit, or a pair of boxers he swiped from you after one of your more passionate nights. – – – Tucked away in his locker or hidden in his apartment, these little trophies remind him of just how good it feels to have something no one else knows about—something only he and his partner share. If the League ever found out, Hal would play it cool, but deep down, the thought of being confronted about it would absolutely mortify him... in the most thrilling way possible.

– For Hal, it’s not just about breaking the rules—it’s about bending them just enough to keep things interesting. And if that means taking a few risks to satisfy his insatiable desire for you? Well, that’s just part of the fun.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

– Hal Jordan might be a cocky flirt, but don’t let the snarky remarks from his teammates fool you—when it comes to experience, he’s far from lacking. Sure, he might have heard a jab or two about his supposed performance (thanks, Diana), but Hal’s not the type to let those comments get to him. In fact, he thrives on proving people wrong. Beneath his overconfident exterior is a man who knows exactly what he’s doing—and takes great pride in leaving his partner breathless, satisfied, and craving more.

– Hal’s history of flings and encounters isn’t just about notches on the bedpost; it’s been a training ground for him to perfect his craft. He knows how to read your body like it’s a flight manual, mapping out every sensitive spot and memorizing exactly how to bring you to your knees. His touch is electric, like the constructs he wields, and he’s not afraid to get creative—pinning your wrists above your head with one hand while his other works its magic, his mouth leaving a trail of heat down your neck. Hal is a man who studies his partner, and by the time he’s done with you, he’ll have your every moan, gasp, and shiver committed to memory.

– And let’s be real—Hal is absolutely the type to let his mouth run before the action even starts. He’ll tease you relentlessly, his voice dropping to a low, seductive drawl as he leans in close, murmuring things like, “You sure you’re ready for this? I don’t do anything halfway, sweetheart.” It’s not just a promise; it’s a warning. Because once Hal gets started, there’s no stopping him until you’re trembling, spent, and begging him for mercy.

– His rhythm is as smooth as his piloting skills—precise, confident, and utterly relentless. Hal knows how to pace himself, starting slow to build anticipation before ramping up into a rhythm that leaves you seeing stars. And when he hears you lose control? That’s the moment he turns it up even more, using his strength and stamina to push you further than you thought possible. Hal doesn’t just take you to the edge—he shoves you over it, holding you steady as your body writhes beneath him.

– But the real kicker? Hal gets off on the aftermath just as much as the main event. He loves seeing you absolutely wrecked, skin flushed, legs shaking, and lips swollen from his kisses. He’ll grin down at you, smug and satisfied, as he brushes his thumb across your jaw and murmurs, “Told you I was good. Don’t worry—I’ve got plenty more where that came from.” And he means it. Hal’s stamina isn’t just impressive—it’s almost unfair. One round is never enough for him; he’s determined to make sure you’re as thoroughly claimed as possible, inside and out.

– For Hal Jordan, sex is an art form, and he’s a master of his craft. He doesn’t just want to satisfy you—he wants to ruin you for anyone else. And judging by the way you’ll still feel him long after he’s done, there’s no doubt he succeeds every time.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

– For Hal Jordan, sex isn’t just about intimacy—it’s a performance, a chance to show off exactly what he can do, and trust him, he’s got the moves to back up his bravado. Hal thrives in positions where he’s in control, his strength and endurance on full display, and where he can quite literally see the effect he’s having on you. Here are his absolute favorites:

1) Standing Carry: Hal loves nothing more than showing off his strength by picking you up and taking you wherever he pleases. Wrapping your legs around his waist, he holds you effortlessly, one hand supporting your back while the other grips your ass firmly, pulling you flush against him. He loves how you gasp when he moves with purpose, his hips slamming into yours as he presses you against a wall—or, if you’re really lucky, carries you straight to the bed without ever breaking rhythm. His smug grin is practically glued to his face as he growls, “See? Told you I’d take care of you. You just sit back and let me handle everything.”

2) Plank Position: Hal has an almost stubborn need to prove his stamina, and this position is all about endurance. With you lying beneath him, your legs wrapped around his hips, Hal supports himself on his forearms or hands, driving into you with a controlled, steady rhythm. He loves the full view of your face, watching every reaction as he angles himself just right to pull moans and gasps from your lips. Bonus points? The way his body flexes above you, his arms and chest on full display as he leans down to murmur dirty praises in your ear, “You feel that? Only I can make you like this.”

3) Missionary (With Legs Over His Shoulders): Hal’s favorite twist on the classic. With your legs draped over his broad shoulders, he gets deeper than ever, watching with smug satisfaction as you arch and cry out beneath him. He thrives on the intimacy of it, how close he can get to your face to see the full effect of his thrusts. And if you grip his biceps or claw at his back? That’s just icing on the cake. He’s not shy about reminding you how good he’s making you feel, whispering things like, “No one else can fuck you like this, can they?” as he picks up the pace to leave you breathless.

4) Standing From Behind: Hal is all about leverage and control, and this position lets him put both on display. With you bent over in front of him—whether it’s against a table, a bed, or even the nearest wall—Hal takes full advantage of the angle to hit all the right spots. His hands grip your hips firmly, pulling you back against him with every thrust, while he murmurs filthy things like, “You feel that, don’t you? Tell me how good it feels, baby.” He’s absolutely the type to catch sight of himself in a mirror mid-act and smirk at the view—because let’s face it, the sight of him owning you so thoroughly is just too good to resist.

5) Seated Position: This is Hal’s go-to when he’s in the mood for something slower but no less intense. Sitting back in a chair—or more likely, the cockpit of a jet—he pulls you into his lap, letting you ride him while his hands roam freely across your body. He loves the control this position gives you while he leans back to enjoy the view, guiding your movements with firm hands on your waist or thighs. And if you falter, he’s quick to take over, thrusting up into you with a wicked grin as he mutters, “Come on, sweetheart. I know you’ve got more in you than that.”

– For Hal, it’s not just about the position itself—it’s about how much effort he can pour into it, how much he can make you feel. Whether it’s holding you up with ease, driving into you with relentless precision, or leaving you utterly wrecked in the aftermath, Hal’s favorite position is always the one that lets him prove, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that no one else can even come close.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

– Hal Jordan is the king of cracking a joke at the most inappropriate moments, and the bedroom is no exception. He thrives on keeping things lighthearted and fun, even in the filthiest of moments. Expect a cheeky comment like, “Careful, don’t get addicted,” when he’s going down on you, or a smirk and a playful, “That all you’ve got?” when you’re clawing at him for more.

– If something unexpected happens—like an awkward slip or an overly enthusiastic move—Hal doesn’t just roll with it; he makes it part of the fun. He’ll laugh, kiss you breathless, and say something ridiculous like, “Guess we’re trying out the blooper reel tonight.” But don’t let his humor fool you—Hal’s still relentless in his focus on making you come undone. He just thinks it’s more fun when you’re laughing and moaning at the same time.

– And if you ever try to match his banter mid-act? Oh, he’s all in. Hal loves a partner who can keep up with his sharp tongue, turning your playful remarks into fuel for his dirty, teasing retorts. But don’t be surprised when he shuts you up the fastest way he knows how—with his lips, his hands, or a deep, calculated thrust that leaves you too wrecked to respond. “That’s better,” he’ll say with a grin, “Guess I’m the funny one after all.”

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

– Hal Jordan is the type of guy who keeps things just well-groomed enough to look effortlessly sexy without seeming like he’s trying too hard. His hair on top? Always a little tousled, like he just stepped out of a fighter jet or rolled out of bed (and let’s be honest, half the time it’s probably both). Thick, dark brown, and naturally wavy, it’s the kind of hair you want to run your fingers through—whether you’re pulling him closer during a heated kiss or grabbing a fistful while he’s buried between your legs.

– Now, when it comes to body hair, Hal keeps it natural but tidy. His chest and stomach are dusted with just the right amount of dark hair, enough to highlight his rugged masculinity without going full-on lumberjack. He doesn’t wax or shave it entirely, but he trims enough to keep things neat—because he knows you love running your hands over the ridges of his abs and feeling the soft, fine hair beneath your fingertips. And trust him, he loves it too, especially when your nails scrape over his skin just enough to leave marks.

– As for below the belt? Oh, Hal’s definitely a “clean it up but keep it real” kind of guy. The carpet absolutely matches the drapes—a deep brown that’s just as rich and inviting as the rest of him. He trims it down regularly, ensuring there’s no jungle to navigate, because Hal’s all about making things as inviting as possible. He’s the type to smirk and say something cheeky like, “You like what you see? Took me a whole five minutes to get it just right.” But the truth is, he puts in just enough effort to make sure you’re as comfortable and distracted as possible when you’re exploring down there.

– And while he might not admit it out loud, Hal secretly loves it when you pay attention to his hair—whether it’s tugging on the strands during an intense moment, raking your fingers down his chest, or pressing your lips to the soft trail leading below his waist. It’s those little touches that make him feel completely irresistible—and trust him, with Hal Jordan, that’s exactly how he wants you to feel.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

– Hal Jordan may come across as cocky and overconfident most of the time, but when it comes to intimacy, there’s a side of him that’s deeper, softer, and entirely devoted to making you feel like the only person in the universe. Sure, he starts things off with his trademark smirks and filthy teasing—murmuring things like, “You ready for me to blow your mind?”—but the moment things get serious, Hal pours every ounce of his focus into you. For him, intimacy is about connection, and he’s determined to make sure you feel every bit of his passion.

– Hal’s not afraid of getting close—really close. He’s the type to hold your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing your cheekbones as he kisses you deeply, making you forget the world outside. His eyes stay locked on yours whenever possible, dark with lust and affection as he whispers against your lips, “You’re so perfect like this, you know that?” And while his words are hot enough to melt you, his actions speak even louder. Every touch, every movement is deliberate, designed to pull you deeper into his orbit and remind you that in this moment, it’s just the two of you.

– He’s surprisingly patient too, despite his usual impulsive nature. Hal takes his time exploring every inch of you, memorizing the way your body responds to his touch. He’ll kiss a slow, tantalizing path down your neck, across your chest, and lower still, pausing to murmur against your skin, “I could spend all night right here, you know.” And if you shiver or moan in response? That’s all the encouragement he needs to keep going, to push you higher and higher until you’re completely undone.

– But Hal’s intimacy doesn’t stop at the physical. He’s just as intent on making you feel seen—like you’re the center of his world. He’ll whisper things that make your heart skip a beat, like how stunning you look beneath him or how he’s never felt this way with anyone else. And while he might throw in a cheeky comment here or there to keep things light, his softer side shines through in the way he holds you close, his hands roaming your body like he never wants to let go.

– When you’re completely spent, trembling and dazed from his relentless attention, Hal will wrap you up in his arms and press kisses to your forehead, your nose, your lips. He’ll murmur something cocky but sweet, like, “Told you I’d take care of you, didn’t I? And I’m not done yet.” Because for Hal, intimacy isn’t just about the act—it’s about leaving you so overwhelmed with pleasure and love that you never question how much you mean to him.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

– Hal Jordan may radiate cocky, overconfident energy, but even he has his moments of pure, primal need—when there’s no one around to satisfy him, and his hand becomes his only option. And trust this: Hal doesn’t half-ass anything, not even when he’s jerking off. It’s a performance for one, and he makes sure it’s just as intense and satisfying as if you were there to help him out.

– When Hal gets in the mood, it’s usually quick and unplanned—a flash of a memory from a heated moment with you, the way your body felt against his, or the sound of your breathless moans replaying in his mind. He’ll grip himself firmly, his strokes starting slow as he leans back against whatever surface is closest—a couch, his bed, hell, even the cockpit of his jet if it’s been that kind of day. His teeth catch on his bottom lip as he imagines your touch instead of his own, and it doesn’t take long for him to get lost in the fantasy.

– Hal’s not quiet, either. He groans low and deep, his breath hitching every time his hand squeezes just right or his thumb grazes the sensitive head. He’s filthy, too, muttering your name under his breath along with fragments of the dirty things he wants to do to you. “Fuck, baby, you’d look so good on your knees for me… God, I can’t stop thinking about how you’d take me, begging for more—just like that.” His free hand trails down his abs or grips his thigh, needing something to hold onto as his pace picks up, faster and harder with every stroke.

– Hal’s fantasies are vivid, too, and they only fuel the intensity of his release. He imagines your mouth on him, your hands gripping his hips, or the way your body trembles beneath him as he takes you apart piece by piece. When he comes, it’s explosive—hot ropes of cum spilling over his fist and onto his stomach, his head tipping back as a guttural groan escapes his lips. He doesn’t stop immediately, either, riding out every wave of pleasure with slow, teasing strokes until he’s spent and panting.

– And afterward? Hal’s the type to chuckle to himself, wiping his hand on the nearest towel or his discarded shirt before muttering something cocky like, “Damn, you’ve got me wrecked, and you’re not even here.” But deep down, it only makes him crave the real thing more—because as satisfying as it is to take care of himself, nothing compares to having you there to help him finish the job.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

– Hal Jordan isn’t just adventurous in the skies—his tastes in the bedroom are just as daring and varied. He’s got a few kinks that keep things interesting, and he’s more than happy to indulge them with the same cocky, confident energy that makes him irresistible. Here are five of his favorites:

1) Dominance and Power Play: Hal lives to be in control, and nothing gets him off more than seeing you submit completely to him. He loves the way you melt under his touch, letting him take the reins as he orders you exactly how to move, what to do, and when to let go. His commands are firm but laced with filthy praise, like, “That’s it, baby. Keep those legs spread just like that for me—don’t move unless I tell you to.” And when you follow his lead perfectly? Oh, he rewards you in the best ways possible, leaving you shaking and begging for more.

2) Worship and Praise Kink: Hal’s ego is as big as the universe, and he loves it when you make him feel like a god. Whether it’s kissing and licking your way down his chest, whispering how amazing he feels inside you, or simply moaning his name like a prayer, he thrives on being the center of your attention. His favorite? When you’re on your knees, eyes full of need as you take him into your mouth, only to hear him groan, “Fuck, you look so good like that. I could watch you worship me all night.”

3) Exhibitionism and Risky Encounters: Hal gets off on the thrill of being caught, and he’s not shy about suggesting public or semi-public escapades. Whether it’s pulling you into a closet on the Watchtower, sneaking a quickie in the cockpit of his jet, or taking you against the nearest wall at a party, he craves the adrenaline rush that comes with pushing boundaries. He’ll chuckle wickedly in your ear and say things like, “Think anyone can hear us? Let’s give them a show they won’t forget.” And the more you squirm, the harder it is for him to hold back.

4) Overstimulation and Edging: Hal loves to draw things out, teasing you until you’re a writhing mess beneath him. He takes his time, pushing you to the brink over and over again, only to pull back just before you fall apart. His hands, mouth, and even his Green Lantern ring become tools in his arsenal, all designed to make you beg for release. He’ll smirk down at you and say, “Come on, baby, you can take more. Let me see how far I can push you.” And when he finally lets you come? It’s so intense you’ll feel like you’re floating in zero gravity.

5) Marking and Claiming: Hal’s possessive streak comes out in the bedroom, and he loves leaving his mark on you—bruises from his grip on your hips, bite marks on your neck, or the feeling of him dripping out of you long after he’s finished. He’ll revel in the sight of you wearing his marks, leaning down to kiss them tenderly before growling, “Now everyone will know exactly who you belong to.” And when he’s filling you to the brim, his hands pressing against your stomach to feel just how deep he is? That’s when he’s completely in his element, making sure there’s no doubt in your mind—or anyone else’s—that you’re his.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

– For Hal Jordan, location isn’t just about where—it’s about how risky and how hot the situation can get. As a man who thrives on danger and excitement, he’s not content with keeping things confined to the bedroom. Hal’s favorite locations are as bold and daring as he is, each one chosen to satisfy his craving for adventure while pushing your limits in the most delicious ways.

1) The Cockpit: As a test pilot and Green Lantern, the cockpit is practically Hal’s second home—and he loves nothing more than breaking the rules in the very place that defines him. Whether it’s in a grounded jet during a late-night hangar visit or mid-air with the autopilot engaged, Hal gets a thrill out of having you straddle him in the pilot’s seat. His hands grip your hips as he whispers, “Bet you’ve never joined the mile-high club like this before.” And the thought of anyone catching you in the act only spurs him on, his thrusts matching the intensity of the adrenaline rushing through his veins.

2) The Watchtower (Semi-Public): There’s something undeniably thrilling about sneaking away with you aboard the Justice League’s headquarters, finding a secluded room or corner where you almost won’t be discovered. Hal loves pinning you against a wall, his body shielding yours as he murmurs into your ear, “Think Batman’s got cameras in here? Let’s give him something to watch.” The sheer audacity of it drives him wild, and he makes it a point to leave you trembling and breathless before you both return to the team meeting like nothing happened.

3) Against the Wall (Anywhere): Hal is a firm believer that walls were made for pushing you up against, and he doesn’t care where it happens—as long as he can have you. Whether it’s in a dark alley, the side of a building, or even a shower stall, Hal takes full advantage of the position. His hands grip your thighs, lifting you effortlessly as he presses you against the cool surface, his lips capturing yours in a heated kiss. And if someone’s nearby? Even better. The risk of getting caught only makes him move harder, faster, whispering filthy things like, “Let them hear how good I’m making you feel.”

4) The Lantern Construct: Has no one ever even considered the perks of being a Green Lantern? Unlimited creativity with your constructs! Hal loves creating a glowing green bed, chair, or platform in the middle of nowhere—a floating masterpiece designed just for you. Whether it’s high above the city skyline or deep in a secluded forest, Hal revels in the freedom of taking you wherever and however he wants. His cocky grin says it all as he murmurs, “Only I could pull off something this good, right?” And when the glowing green light illuminates your body beneath him? That’s a memory Hal will never forget.

5) The Beach (Under the Stars): Hal may love risk, but he’s not against a little romance either. Late at night on a secluded beach, he’ll lay you down in the sand, the sound of waves crashing in the background as he makes love to you under the stars. His cocky attitude takes a backseat to his more tender side, though he still can’t resist murmuring things like, “Bet you’ve never had someone fuck you under the Milky Way before.” The mix of intimacy and raw passion is enough to leave you breathless, completely captivated by him.

– For Hal, location is all about adding excitement and variety to the experience. Whether it’s somewhere bold and risky or a place steeped in intimacy, he makes every moment unforgettable—just the way he likes it.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

– Hal Jordan isn’t a hard man to arouse—his cocky confidence and thrill-seeking nature mean that just about any situation has the potential to set him off. But there are a few things in particular that really get him going, driving him to the brink of control as he works to take you apart piece by piece.

1) Challenge: For Hal Jordan, there’s nothing more arousing than a challenge—whether it’s your confidence daring him to step up, or his own insecurities lighting a fire under him to prove he’s the best. Hal thrives on the thrill of competition, and when he feels the need to silence his inner doubts, that sharp edge of desire takes over. He pours every ounce of his energy into you, determined to leave you utterly wrecked, your body trembling and your voice hoarse from screaming his name. It’s about staking his claim, making sure you know, without a doubt, that he’s unmatched. For Hal, the challenge isn’t just about winning—it’s about proving, again and again, that he’s the only one who could ever leave you begging for more.

2) Jealousy and Possessiveness: Piggybacking off that, naturally, this is something that also riles up the Green Lantern just as much. Hal is competitive by nature, and nothing stokes his fire quite like the thought of someone else eyeing what’s his. A passing comment, a lingering glance, or even a harmless laugh shared with someone else is enough to set his possessive streak ablaze. You’ll know he’s jealous when his touches become rougher, his kisses more demanding, and his voice drops to a growl as he pulls you closer, whispering things like, “You’re mine. Don’t forget it.” He won’t stop until you’re screaming his name, every moan and shiver a reminder of exactly who you belong to. Pinning you down, his voice will drop to a low growl as he thrusts into you relentlessly, whispering filthy promises like, “No one else could ever fuck you like this. Say it. Tell me I’m the only one who can make you feel this good.” He doesn’t just want to hear it—he needs to, each word soothing the flicker of insecurity hidden beneath his cocky exterior. But it’s not just about jealousy—it’s about staking his claim, proving to you and himself that, without a doubt, he’s unmatched.

3) Clothing (or the Lack Thereof): Hal has a thing for how you wear—or don’t wear—your clothes, especially when your frame contrasts with his. Catch him off guard lounging in nothing but his Green Lantern shirt, the hem barely covering your hips, and he’ll be on you in seconds, his hands sliding beneath it as he growls, “You trying to kill me? This looks better on you than it ever did on me.” Or tease him with a snug outfit like a tailored suit or a good crop top paired with some short gym trousers that hugs all the right places, and he’ll spend the night failing to keep his hands to himself, his touch lingering on your back, waist, or hips as he mutters, “You know I can’t focus when you look like that.” But the real killer? Watching you undress, piece by piece, until he can’t take it anymore. He’ll pull you into his lap, his big hands gripping your hips possessively as he murmurs against your ear, “Keep going—I want to see everything. And don’t think for a second you’re getting away with teasing me like that.”

4) The Thrill of the Moment: Hal thrives on adrenaline, and it’s no different in the bedroom. The idea of sneaking away during a party, finding a secluded corner at the Watchtower, or even stealing a moment during a mission sets his blood on fire. He’ll push you up against the nearest surface, his lips on your neck as he growls, “We shouldn’t be doing this here... but damn, I can’t stop myself.” The rush of being somewhere you shouldn’t be, coupled with the risk of getting caught, makes everything ten times hotter for him.

5) Your Reactions: At the end of the day, Hal lives for your responses. The way your body arches into his touch, the sounds you make when he hits the right spot, or the way you moan his name when you can’t hold back anymore—those are the things that drive him wild. He’ll do anything to pull more reactions from you, murmuring things like, “That’s it, baby. Let me hear you—don’t hold back.” The louder and more desperate you get, the harder Hal goes, fueled by the knowledge that no one else can make you feel the way he does.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

– Hal Jordan might be open-minded and adventurous, but there are some hard limits he won’t cross. Anything involving cruelty or humiliation is a firm no for him—he’s here to build you up, not tear you down. He also draws the line at anything that takes away your ability to give enthusiastic consent; the thought of you not being fully into it kills the mood instantly—unless we’re talking a Yandere situation or even something like the scenario from “Love’s Punishment." And while he thrives on teasing and pushing boundaries, anything that genuinely hurts or scares you is off the table. “I want you to feel good, not afraid,” he’ll say, his voice soft but firm. At the end of the day, Hal’s all about mutual pleasure, trust, and making sure you’re as satisfied as he is.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

– Hal Jordan? Oh, he’s all in when it comes to oral—both giving and receiving. His cocky confidence extends to the bedroom (or wherever you’re lucky enough to find yourselves), and oral play is no exception. Hal knows exactly how good he looks when your lips are wrapped around him, and he’s not shy about telling you. His hands thread through your hair, his grip firm but never forceful, guiding you with murmured praise like, “That’s it, baby—fuck, you’re so good at this.” And the way his hips occasionally buck into your mouth? Pure reflex, a testament to how much you’ve got him unraveling.

– Hal lives for the visual: the sight of you on your knees, your smaller frame between his thighs, taking him inch by inch while his head tips back and a groan escapes his lips. The stretch of your mouth around him alone is enough to push him close to the edge, but he prides himself on his willpower. He’ll hold himself back as long as possible, savoring every flick of your tongue and the way your hands work in tandem, his breaths coming out in shallow gasps. But don’t mistake his stamina for disinterest—if you keep going long enough, the sight of you combined with the pressure building inside him will eventually win out. And when he comes? It’s hard and fast, his grip tightening as he spills into your mouth, his voice rough as he groans, “Fuck, just like that. Don’t stop—take all of it.”

– As much as Hal loves being on the receiving end, giving head—pole or hole but hole may be his preference—is where his competitive streak and ego really shine. He loves the idea of reducing you to a trembling mess, completely at his mercy as he takes his time exploring every sensitive spot. He starts slow, his tongue swirling and teasing, pulling you to the brink before backing off just to hear you beg. And when he finally decides to let loose? Hal is relentless, his lips, tongue, and fingers working in perfect sync to drag you over the edge. He thrives on the sound of your moans, the way your hands clutch at his hair, and the sight of your thighs trembling beneath him. “That’s it,” he growls, his voice muffled against your skin, “Give it to me. Let me hear how good I’m making you feel.”

– Hal’s ego ensures he’s very skilled—he’s fully capable of bringing you to a mind-blowing orgasm with just his mouth, and he takes immense pride in doing so. It’s not just about the end result for him; it’s about the journey, the control, and the satisfaction of knowing he’s the one who left you completely undone. Whether he’s giving or receiving, Hal makes oral play an unforgettable experience, one that leaves both of you gasping for more.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

– Hal Jordan’s pace depends entirely on his mood—and yours—but no matter the tempo, he’s all in. When he’s in the mood for something slow and sensual, Hal turns the experience into an art form. His movements are deliberate, calculated, and unbearably teasing, designed to make you feel every inch of him as he drags out your pleasure. He’ll keep his hips rolling in a steady rhythm, his body pressed flush against yours as he whispers, “You feel that? Every single stroke? Yeah, I’m not stopping until you’re begging for it.” He thrives on the way your body arches into him, his hands gripping your waist to keep you right where he wants you.

– But when passion overtakes him—or if you’ve been teasing him all day—Hal shifts into a much rougher, more relentless gear. His thrusts are deep, hard, and fast, each one landing with enough force to leave you gasping, your nails digging into his back or shoulders for support. He loves hearing you cry out his name, the sound driving him to push even harder as he growls, “Come on, baby. Take it. I know you can handle it.” Hal’s stamina means he can keep this up for as long as it takes to have you completely undone, leaving you trembling and breathless beneath him.

– What makes Hal so intoxicating is how easily he switches between the two. He’ll start slow, teasing you until you’re clawing at him to go faster, only to smirk and say, “Patience, sweetheart. We’ve got all night.” And then, just when you think you can’t take another second of the teasing, he picks up the pace, his body driving into yours with enough intensity to leave you seeing stars. Whether it’s slow and torturous or fast and punishing, Hal’s pace is always designed with one goal in mind: leaving you completely wrecked by the time he’s finished.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

– Hal Jordan lives for quickies. The thrill of sneaking in a fast, filthy session when you’re both supposed to be somewhere else? It’s practically tailor-made for him. Whether it’s dragging you into an empty room at the Watchtower, pinning you against a wall in a dimly lit alley, or pulling you into the cockpit of his jet for a little “pre-flight stress relief,” Hal knows how to make every second count.

– There’s no buildup with him during a quickie—he’s on you the moment the door closes, his hands everywhere as he growls, “We don’t have much time, so spread those legs for me. Now.” His pace is relentless, his thrusts hard and fast as he works to get both of you off before you’re caught. He’s not shy about talking dirty, either. “You’re so tight—fuck, I’m not going to last long with you clenching around me like that,” he groans, his breath hot against your neck as his hips slam into you.

– Hal loves the risk, the danger of being caught. It’s not uncommon for him to smirk and whisper, “Think anyone can hear us?” as he covers your mouth with his hand to stifle your moans—or maybe he doesn’t cover it at all, daring you to try and stay quiet as he fucks you so hard your legs give out. His cocky streak shines through even in these rushed moments, and he’ll make sure you know exactly how good he’s making you feel, muttering things like, “Damn, look at all that pre-cum, baby. Stop trying to pretend you don’t love this as much as I do.”

– And if you can’t finish in time? Oh, that only makes Hal more determined. He’ll adjust his grip, angle, and pace until he feels you trembling around him, pulling you over the edge just in time for him to finish inside you with a low, guttural groan. When it’s over, Hal is already straightening his uniform or pants, smirking as he watches you try to catch your breath. “What? Don’t look at me like that,” he teases, running a hand through his hair. “You’re the one who couldn’t keep your hands to yourself.”

– For Hal, quickies aren’t just about release—they’re about the rush, the adrenaline, and the satisfaction of leaving you wrecked and barely able to walk while he’s already back to business like nothing happened.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

– Hal Jordan isn’t just comfortable with risk—he thrives on it. Whether it’s in the air or in the bedroom (or somewhere far less private), the thrill of danger lights him up like nothing else. He loves the idea of pushing boundaries, crossing lines, and taking you to places you’ve never dared to go. And when the stakes are high—when there’s a chance someone might walk in or overhear? That’s when Hal gets truly reckless, and his need for you becomes uncontrollable.

– His favorite risks are the ones that make you squirm with both nerves and arousal. Pulling you into an empty meeting room on the Watchtower, pinning you against the door as he growls, “Think Batman’s gonna hear this? Good. Let him know who makes you scream.” Or finding a quiet spot on a rooftop during a mission, bending you over the edge while his lips press against your ear, murmuring, “Don’t look down. Focus on me, baby.” The added element of danger, the risk of being caught or seen, only makes him harder, his thrusts more desperate as he chases the high of knowing he’s taking you right where he shouldn’t.

– And Hal doesn’t just stop at the usual locations. If there’s a way to push things further, he’s the first to suggest it. Creating a glowing green construct in the middle of the sky, high above the city, where anyone looking up could spot the faint light and realize what’s happening? That’s exactly the kind of risk Hal craves. He thrives on the way your smaller body trembles beneath him, your moans carried on the wind as he smirks and mutters, “You’re so fucking loud. Think they know what we’re doing? Good.”

– It’s not just about location, either—it’s about power and control. Hal loves when you trust him enough to let him take charge in situations that feel downright dangerous, like fucking you on a moving jet or in the back of a parked car in broad daylight. His confidence is contagious, his hands steady as he grips your hips and whispers, “I’ve got you. You’re safe with me. Now hold still and let me ruin you.” And if you hesitate or shy away from the risk? Oh, that only makes him more determined to convince you, his voice dripping with lust as he adds, “Don’t be scared, baby. I’ll make it worth it.”

– For Hal, risk isn’t just about breaking rules—it’s about making you feel alive, your heart racing as much from fear as from the way he’s fucking you senseless. Every gasp, every whimper, every desperate moan you let out only fuels his need to push further, harder, leaving you completely undone and breathless from both the pleasure and the adrenaline rush.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

– Hal Jordan’s stamina is, quite simply, superhuman. Whether it’s his time as a test pilot, his duties as a Green Lantern, or the sheer force of willpower that drives him, Hal has the energy and determination to keep going long after most would’ve given up. And in the bedroom? That same relentless spirit shines through, making him the kind of lover who doesn’t just satisfy you—he completely wrecks you.

– One round with Hal is never enough. He’s insatiable, his body still humming with adrenaline even after you’re left trembling and breathless beneath him. He’ll grin down at you, brushing the hair from your face as he murmurs, “Tired already? Come on, baby, I know you’ve got another in you. Let me see it.” And before you can protest, he’s moving again, his hands gripping your hips as he drives into you with the same intensity as before, determined to pull even more moans and cries from your lips.

– Hal doesn’t just rely on physical stamina, though—it’s his mental focus that makes him unstoppable. He thrives on the challenge of seeing how far he can push you, how many orgasms he can pull from your trembling body before you’re a shaking, incoherent mess. His cocky smirk only grows wider every time you beg him to stop, to give you just a moment to catch your breath, and he leans down to whisper, “Not until I’m done with you. And I’m nowhere near done.”

– Even after he’s come hard and fast, Hal’s recovery time is impressive. He barely needs a moment to regroup before he’s ready to go again, his hands already roaming your body as he growls, “I can’t get enough of you. You’re too good for me to stop now.” It’s that endless drive, that need to keep proving himself, that makes Hal unstoppable. He doesn’t just want to satisfy you—he wants to leave you so thoroughly used and spent that you’ll still feel him the next day.

– And even after the physical part is over, Hal’s stamina carries into the aftercare. He’ll hold you close, his hands tracing lazy circles over your skin as he murmurs sweet, filthy praises in your ear, already planning how he’s going to take you again the moment you’re ready. For Hal Jordan, stamina isn’t just about lasting long—it’s about making sure you’re left completely and utterly satisfied, no matter how many rounds it takes.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

– Hal Jordan isn’t the kind of guy to keep a drawer full of toys—why would he, when he’s so confident in his ability to satisfy you all on his own? His ego practically demands it. “You don’t need anything extra when you’ve got me,” he’ll say with a smirk, his hand sliding down your body to emphasize his point. But despite his pride, Hal’s no prude when it comes to spicing things up, and if the opportunity to use a toy arises, he’s more than willing to give it a try—especially if it’s going to make you moan louder or come harder.

– The kicker? Hal’s cocky streak means he’d absolutely get a silicone toy molded after himself. Whether it’s a gag gift or something he genuinely thinks you’d enjoy, the thought of you using him even when he’s not there is enough to make his blood run hot. He’d hand it to you with that signature smirk and say something like, “I figured you might need this for the nights I’m saving the galaxy. Just make sure to tell me which one feels better—me or the toy.” And if you tease him about it later? Oh, that’s only going to push him to prove there’s no comparison.

– When it comes to using toys on you, Hal’s enthusiasm is unmatched. The moment he sees how much they turn you on, he’s hooked. His favorite? Vibrating toys that he can use to tease you mercilessly, watching as you squirm and gasp under his control. He’ll press it against your most sensitive spots, holding it there until your body arches off the bed, only to pull it away at the last second with a low chuckle. “What’s wrong, baby? You can’t handle it? Guess I’ll have to take over myself.” Hal’s skillful hands and mouth might leave the toy feeling like second-best, but the combination of the two? That’s a recipe for complete and utter destruction.

– And if you ever decide to surprise him by bringing a toy into the mix yourself? Hal won’t be able to hide how much it turns him on. He loves the thought of you taking control for a moment, guiding his hands or showing him exactly how you want to be touched. But don’t think for a second he’ll let you have the upper hand for long. Hal’s all about reclaiming control, using the toy to push you even further until you’re gasping his name and gripping his arms, completely at his mercy.

– At the end of the day, Hal doesn’t rely on toys—but he’s more than happy to use them if it means making you fall apart in ways you never thought possible. And let’s be honest: the smug satisfaction he gets from watching you come undone, whether it’s his hands or his molded toy, is more than enough to keep him experimenting.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

– Hal Jordan is the definition of unfair in the bedroom. Teasing you until you’re a whimpering, desperate mess is practically a sport to him, and trust him, he’s a champion. He thrives on making you beg, dragging things out until you’re trembling beneath him, clutching at his arms or shoulders and gasping, “Hal, please.” And even then? He doesn’t let up. Instead, he smirks down at you, his fingers trailing maddeningly close to where you need him most as he murmurs, “What’s that? I didn’t hear you. Say it louder, sweetheart.”

– Hal’s favorite game is edging—pushing you right to the brink before pulling back, over and over again, until you’re practically crying with frustration. His hands, his mouth, his Green Lantern ring—everything about him is designed to drive you insane. He’ll kiss and lick his way down your body, his lips brushing over sensitive spots but never quite giving you the pressure you need. “You’re so sensitive here,” he’ll muse, his voice low and smug as his fingers ghost over your thighs. “I bet I could make you come just from this. But I think I’ll wait. You look too good like this—needy and desperate for me.”

– He’s not just unfair with his teasing—his stamina and control make him downright cruel at times. Hal can hold himself back for what feels like an eternity, watching you squirm and arch beneath him as he keeps his thrusts slow and deliberate, just enough to make you moan but not enough to push you over the edge. “You’re close, aren’t you?” he’ll whisper, his lips brushing your ear. “Not yet, baby. I want to see you beg for it first.” And when you finally do? That’s when he snaps, pounding into you with all the intensity he’s been holding back, leaving you breathless and trembling as he grins and mutters, “See? Wasn’t that worth the wait?”

– And let’s not forget his playful side—Hal’s smug remarks only make the teasing worse. If you try to take control or rush him, he’ll pin your wrists above your head, his grin infuriatingly wide as he murmurs, “Oh, you thought you were in charge tonight? Cute. Let me remind you how this works.” He doesn’t just tease; he turns it into a performance, loving every second of your frustration and the way you eventually melt under his touch.

– For Hal, being unfair isn’t just about the power trip—it’s about making sure you fall apart completely, begging for release until he’s ready to give it to you. And when he finally does? You’ll be too wrecked to care how long it took—you’ll just know it was worth every second.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

– Hal Jordan is not the type to keep quiet during sex. Subtlety? That’s for someone else. Hal’s the kind of lover who wants you to know exactly how good you’re making him feel, and he’s not shy about letting it show. From the low, guttural groans that rumble deep in his chest to the sharp gasps and growls that escape when you squeeze around him just right, Hal’s sounds are as intense and raw as the way he takes you.

– When you’re going down on him, he’s especially vocal, his head tipping back as a strained, “Fuck, baby, just like that,” falls from his lips. If you hit a particularly sensitive spot, he won’t hold back a loud, desperate moan, his hand tightening in your hair as his hips buck uncontrollably. He’s not afraid to be loud, and honestly? He gets off on the idea that someone might hear him losing control because of you.

– But Hal’s not just about his own sounds—he lives for yours too. The louder you get, the more it fuels him, driving him to go harder, deeper, until your cries and moans fill the room. He’ll mutter filthy things in your ear, his voice low and gravelly as he growls, “Come on, sweetheart, let me hear you. I know you’ve got more in you.” And if you try to stifle your sounds? Hal will take it as a challenge, doing everything in his power to pull those desperate, uninhibited noises from you. “Don’t hold back,” he’ll command, his grin wicked as he thrusts into you harder. “I want the whole damn building to know who’s making you scream.”

– When Hal finally comes, it’s loud, unrestrained, and raw. His groans morph into a broken cry, his voice rough and hoarse as he gasps your name like a prayer. Even in the aftermath, his breaths are heavy and labored, interspersed with occasional murmurs of “You’re too fucking good, you know that?” as he pulls you close.

– For Hal, volume isn’t just an afterthought—it’s part of the experience, an auditory testament to the pleasure he’s giving and receiving. And trust him, whether it’s your sounds or his, he’s making damn sure you both leave the room with hoarse voices and no doubt in your mind about how good it was.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

– Wouldn’t it be funny if Hal had a secret kink for doing it in zero gravity. Like, the man’s job–outside his actual job, that is–literally involves him being in space majority of the time. Like…take him off-planet, and the man is in his element, turning the vastness of space into his personal playground. He discovered it the first time he created a floating green construct bed with his ring, pulling you into his arms and realizing how much fun it was to move without gravity’s constraints. Now, it’s one of his favorite things to do during his time away from Earth and if you’re able to come along with him.

– The lack of gravity only amplifies the intimacy—and the filth. With no weight to hold you down, Hal takes full advantage of being able to flip and reposition you however he pleases, all while murmuring dirty praises like, “Look at you, floating here like you were made for me. Bet no one else could fuck you like this.” His hands and body keep you perfectly balanced, one arm pulling you tight against him as he thrusts into you in deep, deliberate strokes that leave you breathless. And the way your smaller frame moves so effortlessly in his grasp? Oh, that’s just another power trip for him, and he loves every second of it.

– The best part for Hal, though, is how gravity—or the lack thereof—makes everything feel more intense. Every touch, every thrust sends you spiraling, your moans echoing in the silence of space as his cocky grin grows wider. “Don’t hold back, sweetheart,” he’ll growl, “No one’s around to hear you but me.” And when you finally come undone, your body trembling and weightless in his arms, he’ll hold you close, his lips brushing against your temple as he murmurs, “Told you space sex was the best. Ready for round two?”

– For Hal, the thrill of zero-gravity sex isn’t just about the novelty—it’s about taking something ordinary and turning it into something unforgettable, just like everything else he does. And trust him, once you’ve experienced it, you’ll never look at Earth sex the same way again.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

– When it comes to Hal Jordan’s cock, let’s just say it lives up to his cocky personality—impressive, commanding, and damn near unforgettable. Hal is absolutely a grower, though, which feels almost like an ego flex in itself. He might look average when soft, but the second things heat up? He’s packing more than enough to make your breath hitch. By the time he’s fully hard, he’s sitting at 7.5 to 8 inches in length, thick enough to leave you gasping as he stretches you wide with every thrust.

– His girth is substantial but not overwhelming, perfectly balanced to hit that sweet spot between pleasure and a delicious burn. He’s slightly thicker at the base, tapering just enough to make the first few inches feel like a challenge before he slides the rest of the way in, the stretch leaving you clawing at him and gasping, “Fuck, Hal, you’re so big.” And trust him, he lives for those words—there’s no greater turn-on for him than watching you struggle to take all of him, your body trembling as he pushes you to your limits.

– Hal’s cock has a very slight upward curve, enough to hit all the right spots with devastating precision. He knows how to angle his hips just right, making sure that every stroke leaves you moaning his name. The head is prominent and slightly flared, giving you an extra stretch as he slides in and out, the sensation almost too much to handle. He’s circumcised, the skin smooth and warm under your touch, and you’ll notice the faint veins running along the shaft, adding just enough texture to make every thrust feel even better. And trust him, he knows exactly how to use it. Every thrust is calculated, designed to leave you trembling and clinging to him for more. “You like how deep I’m hitting you?” he’ll growl, his cocky smirk widening as he drives deeper. “Told you I’d ruin you.”

– He’s circumcised, with a flared head that’s perfectly shaped for dragging along your most sensitive spots, leaving you shuddering with every stroke. The veins running along his shaft aren’t overly pronounced but enough to add texture that sends sparks through your body when he slides into you. The skin is smooth, warm, and a natural, slightly darker shade than the rest of his body, adding to the raw, rugged appeal of him.

– Hal takes pride in how clean and well-kept he is, always making sure he’s trimmed and ready for action. His scent is faintly musky but not overpowering—just enough to drive you wild when he’s got you pressed close, your legs wrapped around his waist, his cock sliding in and out of you with an almost unbearable rhythm. And when he’s fully hard, the weight and heat of him in your hands or against your body is enough to make your mouth water.

– For Hal, his cock isn’t just a part of him—it’s a weapon, and he wields it with the same confidence and skill as he does his constructs. He knows exactly what he’s packing, and he’s damn proud of it, using it to make sure you’re screaming his name long before he’s finished with you. And trust him—once you’ve had Hal, nothing else will ever compare.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

– Hal Jordan’s yearning is nothing short of all-consuming. When he wants you, he doesn’t just feel it—he’s overtaken by it, his every thought consumed by the need to have you, touch you, and claim you as his. It starts with a slow burn, a lingering glance that turns into an unrelenting hunger. Once that fire is lit, Hal doesn’t hold back, his need for you dripping from every word, every touch, and every shameless groan as he pulls you closer.

– Hal is the type to obsess over every detail of you when he’s caught in his longing. The way your body feels pressed against his, the sound of your breath hitching as his lips trail down your neck, the way your smaller frame fits perfectly beneath his. The sight of you—clothed, half-dressed, or completely bare—is enough to send his mind spiraling, his cock already straining against his pants as he mutters, “You have no idea what you do to me.”

– His yearning can be subtle at first—lingering touches, his thumb brushing over your wrist, or the way his hands grip your hips just a little too firmly. But when it boils over, Hal becomes utterly insatiable. He’ll pin you against the nearest surface, his lips crashing into yours as his voice drops to a desperate growl: “I need you. Right now.” His hands roam your body like he’s memorizing it, his grip firm yet reverent, as though touching you is both a privilege and a necessity.

– Hal’s yearning isn’t just physical—it’s deeply emotional. Beneath the cocky smirks and teasing words lies a man who craves connection, who wants to feel you shatter under his touch and know that he’s the reason. He lives for the way you cry out his name, for the way your body responds to him so perfectly, as though you were made just for him. And when you whisper his name in that breathless, needy tone? It drives him to the brink, making his yearning shift into something primal and raw. “Say it again,” he’ll growl, his lips brushing your ear as he grinds into you. “Tell me you need me as much as I need you.”

– For Hal, yearning is more than just desire—it’s a burning ache that only you can quench. And when he finally has you? He pours every ounce of that longing into the way he touches you, moves inside you, and whispers filthy praises into your ear. Because for Hal Jordan, nothing is more satisfying than turning his yearning into your undoing.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

– After an intense session, Hal Jordan is the type to pull you close, his broad chest pressed against your back as his arm drapes possessively around your waist. He’s not the quickest to fall asleep—his mind tends to wander, replaying every sound and reaction he pulled from you like a highlight reel. But once exhaustion catches up with him, he’s out cold, his breathing steady and his grip on you firm, as if even in sleep, he refuses to let you go. And if you’re still awake, don’t be surprised if he murmurs something smug in a half-asleep haze, like, “Told you I’d wear you out,” before pulling you even closer and drifting off completely.

☀️ | Hal Jordan/Green Lantern | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

[nosyrobin]

JASON NEEDS A BOYFRIEND!! CAN YOU GIVE HIM A BOYFRIEND??

“Red riding hood.”

Jason Todd x GL!reader

Genre: Drabble

Cw: slight suggestive.

A/N:YOU ASK I DELIVER, I feel likeee…a green lantern boyfriend. Yknow with his jason and his comments and basically reader is the son of Hal Jordan so I can just see that Jordan!reader just straights up call him “red riding hood”

“Sooo…red hood? You couldn’t at least pick another name?” Y/N says, glowing in a green aura with his arms crossed.

“What? You got a better name for me?” Y/N smirked at the quick comment. “Yeah the one you’ll be screaming tonight.” Jason usually didn’t feel flustered. But he was trying to watch crime alley when his boyfriend came around. Jason grumbled as the green lantern male just circles around him.

“Though babe, I don’t mind calling you red riding hood. I could be the wolf, and gobble you all up to myself.” Jason immediately turned to the male, y/n can tell he was getting to him. “If you’re just gonna pester me, go back to your corporation.” Jason say. “Ouch….and I thought you loved me.. ight I’m done messing with you. Cya at home babe, I’ll check on the corp.”

It was the next morning, Jason was wrapped in bandages he did himself. Fighting goons and either killing them wasn’t for the weak. As Jason goes and tries to call his boyfriend who hasn’t returned. He heard heavy footsteps, Jason grabbed his gun and pointed outside his bedroom door. Ready to blast whoever it is.

“Yoo- hoo. Red riding hood, it’s your grandma…” Jason deadpanned at Y/N doing a bad grandma voice as he soon sees his boyfriend open the door. “Sup red head. Oops I mean red hood.” Y/N sits by the bed, kissing Jason who seemed to relax a lot more in the man’s presence.

“How was patrol?” Y/N checked over the bandaging and wounds. Jason laid down flat, not even moving an inch. “Was good, until I got shot in my lower abdomen. Hurts like bitch but I’m fine.”

“You didn’t steal anyone’s cookies after that right?” “Fuck you.” “Love you too babe.”

[eveysnotebook]

vibes my favorite dc men give me

includes: dick, jason, tim, barry, wally, hal ‘n roy!

sorry if this doesn’t make sense, it’s just stuff that reminds me of them

dick: warm hugs, mint, fruity gummy candy, juice, rainy but comfortable days, sunshine, 90/80s pop music.

jason: empty library's, smell of old books, tea, dark chocolate, smokey, marshmallows, old rock bands, leather bags and jackets, ratty old shirts.

tim: fresh smell of journals or pencils, printer paper smell, old sneakers, long, worn out earbuds, old, abandoned skateboard parks, the mall.

barry: sunshine, new shoes, hoodies, stupidly corny ties, mismatched socks, 2000s pop music, gummy bears, walks in the park on a sunny day, puppies.

wally: sour candies, orange juice, fruits, bright colors, rollerblades, sunflowers, stupid jokes, small bustling market places, freshly picked plants.

hal: scottish fold cats, old tiny cars, green eyes, unique rocks, planes (there’s a place where people fly planes near my house, I dont know what it’s for or what it’s called, I always think of him when driving by) classic rock bands, old van shoes, warm weather with a nice breeze, late nights, mint ice cream.

roy: sunsets, roofless cars, warm hands, uncrowded streets, subway stations??, emo/punk music from 90s n early 2000s, pine trees.

sorry if some are shorter than others, also sorry I started yapping in hal’s section lmao

[shadowsndaisies]

the beginning

a/n: part one of the brightest of lights white lantern!reader AU!!! im so excited to share this with you as part of my resolution to posting more often, especially the wips that have been sitting stagnant for so long. it's the first time in a while that i get to return to jason todd, my number 1 always.

main masterlist

the brightest of lights masterlist

wc: 4.2k

“Batcave to Outlaws,” Dick Grayson’s voice flooded the speakers of your new hideout and you heard Jason let out a groan.

“What’s up, Batcave?” you smirk, answering the call.

“Why would you answer?” Jason chided as Dick’s face filled the screen. “You know we don’t like them,” he huffs from where he was sharpening one of his blades.

“I’m bored and their calls usually give me something to do,” you muse.

“Ding! Ding! Ding! The lady is correct. I do have something for you guys,” Dick chimes with a playful smile and Jason shakes his head.

“Fine, I’ll play. What do you want?” Jason asked, moving to stand beside where you were seated at the computer.

“Batman is already on-sight but there was a major crash right on the edge of Gotham. It seems like it’s from space,” Dick teases, and your lips part in excitement as you turn to Jason.

“You had to say space, didn’t you?” Jason sighed looking at you and then to Dick.

“C’mon, Jase, please!” you pleaded.

“If you’re going to go, you should hurry, I think Batman’s gonna call Green Lantern,” a new face appeared on screen, Tim Drake, or Red Robin.

“You know you both are enabling her?” Jason says to his brothers as you shot up from your chair to grab your gear.

“Not our fault your partner’s cooler than you,” Tim smirks.

“You keep this shit up, Timbers, watch what happens,” Jason growled.

You slung your leather jacket on and put on your utility belt before moving back to the screen to grab your phone. “I will leave you here Jason,” you tell him as you slip the device into a lined pocket on the inside of your jacket.

“Damnit, (Y/n), just give me a second,” he sighed, moving from the screen.

“Thanks for the tip, Batcave,” you smile at the two.

“We know you’re a bit of an astrophile,” Dick smiled kindly.

“Yeah, you space-loving geek. What a nerd,” Tim snorted, rolling his eyes in amusement.

“See ya, boys,” you smiled into the camera, “Outlaws, out,” you finished before shutting the call off.

“I don’t understand your obsession with space,” Jason commented as you both mounted your bikes.

“My obsession? Really?” you shoot him a look as you tap your choker, the nanotechnology there crawled over your face producing a helmet of sorts.

“Hey some people like Disney, you like space, I’m not judging, I just don’t get it,” he sighed.

Revving your engine you look over to your partner, “What’s not to get?” you ask, voice slightly distorted before taking off.

By the time you arrived at the crash site, Green Lantern was there talking with Batman, “And here I thought I’d be able to get through a week without having to see him,” Jason drawled and your nanotech helmet dissolved once more leaving you with just your domino mask and choker.

“Play nice, I want to see the spaceship,” you warn your best friend.

You couldn’t see his eyes due to the red helmet but you were positive he was rolling them at your antics. Looping your arm with his you pulled Jason over to where GL and B were.

“Red Hood, I didn’t expect to see you here,” Batman’s eyes narrowed on the two of you.

“Yeah, it’s nice to see you too, Bats,” you smile at the dark knight.

“What are you doing here?” he pressed, pushing past your antics.

“Why can’t we just be doing our jobs as vigilantes to check in on crashes, like this one?” Jason asked, nonchalantly, and while the two leaguers turned to the man with the red helmet, you carefully slipped away.

You had been learning from Jason a lot lately, watching the way he walked, for someone so large and well built, he made virtually no sound. So, as light as you could, you slunk away from the three in discussion and closer to the crash site. The first thing you noticed was that there was a lot of smoke. You pulled your jacket off your body and bundled it up a bit to make a breathable mask for the moment being as you crept through. You also made a mental note to add filters to your helmet for future events like this. You weren’t really sure what you were looking for, but you kept moving, and all of a sudden you found yourself by what had to be the cockpit of his small ship.

“Damnit, (y/n), you couldn’t wait a few minutes?” Jason’s voice crackled over the comms.

You were about to respond when you saw something shift through the smoke, “Holy shit. Red, I think there’s someone alive in the crash,” you said instead, creeping ever closer to the crash.

“What?” he shot back.

“Someone or something alive is in this wreckage, Jase,” you repeat.

“Wait for me,” Jason pleads.

“Fat chance, Red Hood. Hurry up,” you decide as you find an opening.

Carefully you move through the ship, it was about the size of a shipping container, but it had broken into pieces in the crash.

“Hello?” you shouted, squinting through the smoke. “Is someone there?”

There was a flash of white light and a hushed whisper. Definitely a voice, maybe two, but you couldn’t make out what they were saying. Biting down on your lip you surged forwards. Once you cleared a very thick plume of smoke you found what you had been looking for. A body.

It was alien, without a doubt, and he was clad in a white uniform that you most definitely recognized.

“Jase?” you tapped on the comms line, with wide eyes, as you stared at the creature.

Whatever it was, it was bleeding purple blood and its eyes were shut.

“What? What’d you find?” he asked, you could hear him panting a bit.

“It’s a Lantern, I have absolutely no clue what race, but it’s definitely a Lantern,” you shared, but your eyes were analyzing the suit, it was different from the ones you’d see from the Green Lanterns, this one was white, but the design was basically the same.

“What? GL said that no other members of the Green Lantern Corps were detected on Earth,” Jason’s voice crackled a bit.

“I never said it was green,” you shoot back.

Suddenly the being coughed and its eyes opened wide, you surged forward, towards the being, dropping your jacket and your hands moving to the spots that were bleeding.

“Just hold on, alright, help will be here soon,” you whispered as you tried to help the alien.

It’s vibrant purple eyes, focused on you, as you hoped that their physiology was something like your own.

“A Terran, how unforeseen,” it spoke softly and your eyes widened.

This alien whatever it was, was speaking straight into your head.

“Forgive me, but by connecting us, I can assure a clean understanding without a language barrier,” it continued.

“Oh, okay, sure,” you swallowed, even though you really had no clue what was happening.

“I’m afraid, Terran, I will not make it through this,” the being let out what seemed to be a sigh.

“I don’t really know how to help,” you admit.

“Tell me, Terran, do you love? Have you compassion? Hope? Are there things you fear? Things you wish to claim for yourself? Are you angry? Do you possess the strength to balance all of these emotions?” the creature’s voice was gravelly in your mind but you kept your place.

“I-I mean I guess so?” you offered. “Doesn’t everybody?”

“Hmm, show me. Show me the things that you relate to these emotions,” it pushed. “Begin with Anger.”

A memory flashed before your eyes, the night you met Jason. You had just started the vigilante thing when you saw a couple kids getting cornered in crime alley. Some gang that was trying to recruit them had backed them into a dead end. You had left them knocked out and zip tied to a wall with a note for the cops. But those kids, you made sure they were okay, it pissed you off to see good kids stuck in crappy situations, and there were so many of them.

“Hmm, angry for the violence and pain inflicted on others? Interesting,” it hummed, “now, what of greed?” your surprise was definitely clear, this thing, whatever it was, was reading your mind.

This time the memory was the first time you walked through Wayne Manor. It was so huge, and everything you had dreamed about as a kid on the streets. Something that you had always wanted, a life of luxury, and yet it seemed so foreign, it still did.

“What do you fear?”

You saw Jason bleeding on your sofa, two bullet wounds, a cut. You weren’t much better, the two of you had barely made it out of this last fight with your lives. You remembered the day so vividly because Jason had almost died trying to save you.

“And hope, do you possess the purest of all?” he continued.

There’s a little girl on her dad’s shoulders, they’re at the park, she’s giggling and he’s smiling up at her. Jason, Roy, and Kori were with you, the group had decided to take a chill day. There were cups of lemonade, a couple of books, a speaker and you were lounging about in one of the rare sunny days here in Gotham. These were the days that reminded you why you fought so hard, they reminded you of what you were protecting.

“What is compassion, Terran?

It’s almost funny what memory surfaces this time. You’re leaning back against a brick wall in the Narrows, eyes bright as you keep watch. Jason’s crouched down with a bunch of kids around him. He’s giving them lollipops, clothes, blankets; all in all, about a grand’s worth of stuff. You knew that because it was money you had raided from Black Mask a few days earlier.

“Why are you asking me these things? Who are you? What are you?” you interrupted, this thing was reading your mind, and you were trying your best to force it out.

“I will answer your questions, but there is one more. Do you have one to love?” it asked and your breath hitched, because you knew exactly where that would send you.

You saw yourself back at the hideout with Jason; cleaning guns, sharpening blades, watching a movie, and passing out together on the sofa. He was all you needed.

“Hmm, how interesting. Maybe you Terrans have an inaccurate reputation,” it hummed. “You will make an excellent choice.”

“What are you talking about?”

“My name is Ophelius, I am the last ring-bearer of the White Lanterns. And you, you will be my successor,” Ophelius shared and your eyes bulged. “What is your name, Terran?

“Woah, what?”

“Your name,” he pushed.

“(Y/n),” you answered and he nodded.

“A white lantern must embody all the emotions, all the spectrums of the light. You must feel everything, and most of all, you must balance them. Your emotions will be your saving grace but lose balance, fall unevenly to any and you will destroy yourself and everything around you,” he warned.

“Ophelius, just hold on. A Green Lantern is on the way, he’ll be able to save you,” you tried to reason.

“No, there is no time to wait for Oa’s warrior. Listen to me Terran, remember these words, they will be your connection to all those before you, to the power of the light, and to the balance within,” Ophelius warned and he raised his hand to you, four fingers of light green skin, one of which was adorned with a white ring.

“In brightest day there will be light,” he said solemnly and the ring began to glow with a bright white light. “To cleanse the soul and set wrongs right,” he continued and the ring slowly lifted from his finger. “When darkness falls, look to the skies,” it spun carefully in the air, enveloping you and Ophelius in this white light. “A new dawn comes,” the ring placed itself on your finger, “let there be light,” Ophelius finished and the light died away, leaving you in white and Ophelius who looked even paler than before.

“Ophelius,” you muttered his name carefully.

“Be the brightest of lights, (y/n),” he whispered once more and he fell back gently against the ground.

“(Y/n)!” you heard Jason shout your name but your eyes stayed glued to the now-dead alien.

“(Y/n)!” that was Green Lantern’s voice.

“Damnit, (Y/n), where are you?” Jason called out again.

“Ophelius?” you whispered his name but there was no response, the alien was dead and he had left you with the last ring of the White Lanterns.

A hand landed on your shoulder and as you turned your eyes met the cowl covered ones of the Batman. His costume was such a stark contrast to what you were now wearing. Your previous attire had been your costume, a black armour-padded halter top, utility belt, military-grade camoflauge-printted dark cargo pants with a kevlar weave and combat boots. Now? Now you were wearing the exact same thing in white, but it felt different somehow, like there was something thrumming in each thread.

“Here,” the Bat’s gravelly voice called out.

A second later Jason came bounding through the smoke, the Green Lantern right behind him. GL’s eyes narrowed on the alien and then on you.

“That’s impossible,” he muttered.

“Woah,” Jason noted.

“He’s dead,” you whispered, staring at the pale alien and straight into his lifeless purple eyes.

“(Y/n)?” Jason crept closer and squatted down beside you.

“I didn’t think he was going to die,” you whispered, looking at the alien and then to your hands which were covered in his purple blood.

“Hey, doll,” Jason said the term softly, forcing you to look at him, “what’s going on in your head?”

“I just wanted to see the spaceship,” you admitted turning to Jason with glassy eyes.

“What did he say?” Green Lantern interrupted.

“Be the light,” you muttered.

“What?” GL pressed.

“He told me to be the light,” you repeated, eyes still glued to the dead alien.

Shakily you reached your hand out, and gently you shut the alien’s eyes, a tear slipping down your cheek, Ophelius had read our life in seconds, but his presence was still so fresh in your mind, it hurt more than you were expecting when he died.

“We need to debrief her at the Watchtower, now,” Green Lantern pushed.

“No, you need to back off,” Jason growled suddenly.

“Hood, stand down,” Batman warned.

“Back off, old man,” Jason threatened, standing back up. “She’s in shock, you robots!”

“Red,” your hand automatically moves towards his side. Gently it rests against his hip and he turns to you. “Hood,” your fingers grip into one of his thigh holsters, needing something to hold onto.

“Let’s go,” Jason huffed.

He grabbed your hand, not caring about the purple blood now on his own hands and suit, and helped you up, one hand went to your back almost immediately as he forced you to move forward.

“Jase,” you said his name softly as he pulled you away from Ophelius’ body. “Jay, stop,” you fight his hand as you force him to stop moving.

“What, doll? What is it?” he asked, hands moving to your arms.

“We have to go with them,” you mutter.

“No way. We’re not doing their dance, not today, not now,” he argued.

Your gaze dropped to your stained hands, and the ring now on your finger, “we have to.”

Safe to say Jason was not pleased to end up in the Batcave twenty minutes later. Sure, it was better than the Watchtower, but it was still more than he wanted. But you were going, and if you were going then so was he. You were his partner and there was no way he was going to leave you in any Justice League madness on your own. Your hands were still stained purple, he hadn’t even given you a chance to clean up before deciding to start the lecture. Surprisingly, it wasn’t Batman, this time it was GL.

“-absolutely reckless, going out on your own into an uncleared sight. Touching an alien that you didn’t know, talking with it instead of calling us? I mean what kind of bullheaded move is that!” you would have laughed if he wasn’t yelling at you. Hal Jordan was usually one of the more relaxed Leaguers, so this was very uncharacteristic.

“Give it a rest, Hal,” Jason finally groaned.

“I haven’t even gotten to you, yet, I mean you let her wander off,” Hal reared.

“I let her?” Jason scoffed. “In case you missed it, she’s a fully grown woman!” Jason shot back.

“Oh, for the love of god,” you interrupted. “Are you going to help me or not, Hal?” you asked him, hands flat on the table while you stood, looking at him definitely, everybody’s masks were off at this point as you addressed each other.

GL seemed taken aback by your abrupt interruption because for a second he just gaped.

“Oh, now he has nothing to say,” Jason scoffed and you leveled your best friend with a look.

“Jason, not helping,” you tell him, he simply sighed and sat back down.

“Look, Hal, this happened and you know better than anyone whether we want it or not, this ring is mine, so you can help me or you can get out of my way,” you lamented, and he sighed, shoulders dropping.

“You don’t understand,” he shared.

“Understand what?” you pressed.

“The White Lantern’s were supposed to be extinct. The power that comes with a White Lantern’s Light is categorically insurmountable,” he explained and your brows furrowed.

“What?” you repeated.

“You encompass all the colors, (y/n)! All of them! As a Green Lantern I focus on the powers of Green. We are the middle of the spectrum, we maintain the balance, but white? White is all the colors, you can’t focus solely on one in risk of losing balance. You have to learn to balance it all.”

“She can do it,” Jason argued.

“It takes years!” Hal shot back, “She doesn’t even know the Lantern’s spectrum!” he negated and your brain made the connection.

“Love, Compassion, Hope, Fear, Greed, and Anger,” you mutter.

“What did you say?” GL’s head snapped back to you in seconds.

“That’s what he asked me about, he read my mind, looked into my memories. Specifically of Love, Compassion, Hope, Fear, Greed, and Anger,” you tell them, and Hal finally shuts his mouth.

“What else did he say?” Batman spoke up for the first time since arriving back at the cave, his cowl was off as he stared at you.

“A mantra,” you tell him.

“A mantra?” Jason repeated, eyebrow quirked.

“In brightest day there will be light, to cleanse the soul, and set wrongs right. When darkness falls, look to the skies. A new dawn comes, let there be light,” you repeat, the words tugging at your gut as your fingers fidget with the new ring.

“Sounds familiar,” Bruce noted, turning his attention back to the Green Lantern.

Hal ran a hand over his face and groaned.

“I don’t get it,” you admit.

“The ring is only part of it,” He begins, unsurely. “It’s powerful, sure, but most of the colored lantern corps need to recharge the ring with a battery. We all have a, how’d you call it, a mantra? Yeah, we all have one. It’s different for each spectrum, and we use it to pull the energy from the battery to the rings, but a white lantern is different, there is no battery,” he explained and your brows furrowed.

“Okay… so how do I recharge?” you asked.

“Through your own energy,” Hal admits and you blink at him.

“What, like draining her own life source?” Jason scoffed.

“Not exactly, it’s supposed to be more like channeling the different emotions into energy for the rings, if done right there should be no negative side effects. But like I stated she’s not prepared, it can take years to learn how to channel your energy the right way, and if she’s not, she could kill herself.”

“That’s not terrifying at all,” you sarcastically assure Hal.

“Hey, I’m not the one who told you to run off!” he countered. “You were irresponsible! And reckless! Honestly, what were you thinking, galavanting off into some crash before the smoke’s even cleared!” he's shouting again and it’s starting to piss you off.

Your fist clenches and then you’re standing up again, “Stop shouting at me!”

Your chest is heaving as you glare at the lantern, but instead of glaring back at you, he’s staring with wide eyes.

“Woah,” Jason's murmur is what pulls your attention.

“What?” you snap, gaze shifting to him.

“Doll,” Jason’s voice was as soft as it’s ever been, “you’re glowing.”

Jason’s eyes were also a bit wide and when you stared down at your hands, you saw that he was right. A sort of white glow seemed to be emanating from your body, in fact it was lighting up the whole cave.

“I- I don’t-” you stuttered.

“This is what I’m talking about, you’re not balancing your emotions!” Hal began again. “You’re letting the Entity take control!”

“Hal,” Bruce finally spoke up, effectively stopping the lantern. He stalked closer to you and a heavy hand came down on your shoulder. You met his eyes and he nodded gently, “take a breath, (Y/n),” he instructed. You nodded and took a deep inhale. “Again,” he told you once you had exhaled, and you followed his instructions.

You repeated the process a few times but you noticed as the light began to fade and your heart rate settled.

He turned to Hal, “Control is teachable, Hal. Curiosity isn’t,” he reminded him.

You stared at Bruce for a second, there were moments when you could see the dad in him showing, and you could never reconcile that version of him with the Bat. They seemed like two completely different people, it was easy to understand Jason’s irritation. Living with someone who could be so different depending on the hour would take a toll on anyone for sure. Your gaze shifted from Bruce to Hal with a furrowed brow, “What Entity?” you press.

“What?” he stuttered.

“You said that the Entity was taking control, what Entity?” you asked.

Hal sighed before finally collapsing in a chair, “The White Lanterns are the physical embodiment of the Entity, which is the power of life itself. White Lanterns are dangerous and unpredictable, Kyle was closest we’ve ever seen to a true White Lantern. But even then, he was a Green Lantern first, and the Entity reverted him back to the Green Lanterns after. You’re wearing the first real White Lantern ring I’ve ever seen. It’s not like the ones Kyle created, and that’s alarming because it just reminds me that there is so much we don’t know about White Lanterns.”

“So you’re saying that the force behind the White Lanterns is life itself, and it manifests as an Entity which has no real form but white light. Which is why it needs me, a ring bearer?” you surmise, squinting at Hal as you put things together.

“Yes,” he nods and you turn back to Bruce.

“What do you think?” you asked him seriously and Bruce just stared at you.

You may not be his biggest fan most days, but there was no doubt that Bruce Wayne was a brilliant critical thinker, and if anyone could help you right now, it was going to be him. “I think the rings choose the wearer. Meaning nothing short of killing you will result in removing the ring’s attachment to you,” he begins and your brow quirked.

“We are not killing her!” Jason interrupted, and the corners of your lips quirked.

“There’s only one thing to do, train,” Bruce agreed with a small smirk.

“Train?” you repeat.

“And who do you think is going to train her?” Hal interrupted.

“I’d expect it to be you, Jordan, or any of your counterparts, though I do feel both you and John Stewart would have better luck when compared to Guy Gardner, Jessica Cruz and Kyle Rayner,” Bruce shot back and Hal’s eyes blew wide.

“Me?” Hal shot back. “What do I know about training anyone?” he scoffed.

“There’s a learning curve,” Bruce shrugged, eyes lingering on Jason for a second.

“Your nonchalance is inspiring,” you muse, eyes darting over to Jason who was now focused on Hal.

“No dead birds, Jordan,” Jason warns, and you almost choke on your responding laugh.

...

a/n: ps: i know i play a little fast and loose with the lantern rules, im open to suggestions!

everything tags: @butterfly-skinnylegend

dc taglist: @batarella @loninctzencarat @escapenightmare @uh-oh-howd-i-get-here

[fluentmoviequoter]

Oh, We're Lovers Now?

Requested by Anonymous: friends to lovers with Hal Jordan with accidental kisses

Pairing: Hal Jordan x fem!reader

Summary: After accidentally kissing your friend Hal Jordan, you're saved by Green Lantern and realize that your relationship is special.

Warnings: one trauma joke ab Hal's dad, fluff, reader is injured by a villain that hasn't been in a comic in over a decade, panic attack, many kisses, kind of a 3+1 fic

Word Count: 3.5k+ words

Masterlist | DC/Hal Jordan Masterlist | Request Info

“You’re late,” you muse when you hear your front door open.

“I know,” your best friend Hal replies. “There was a crash at work, and I couldn’t get out on time.”

You stop what you’re doing, drop the wooden spoon from your hand into the bowl, and turn slowly to face Hal. He hides a smile at your reaction; you can tell because his cheek hollows when his tongue presses against it.

“Are you okay?” you inquire.

Hal lets his smile appear as he replies, “I’m sorry.”

“Answer the question, Hal.”

“I’m fine,” he assures you, walking into the kitchen to hold your arms. “Everyone is fine.”

Nodding, you turn away from him and feel his hands slip from you. When you first met Hal, you worried every time he mentioned work. Test flying planes and experimental aircraft is not the safest job in the world, but Hal is good at it. So, over the years, you’ve learned to trust him more. As a result, you worry less. It doesn’t make it any easier to hear about bad things, though, and the thought that it could have been him who crashed clouds your mind.

“What did you do today?” Hal inquires as he shrugs out of his jacket.

“Not much,” you answer. “Cooked a full meal for you and then thought you stood me up, so, the usual.”

Hal rolls his eyes at your teasing, then tosses his jacket onto a nearby chair and returns to your side.

“Thank you,” he says. “And I mean it.”

“Do you not usually?” you ask, looking over your shoulder at him.

Hal tilts his chin in thought, then admits, “Depends.”

“Hey when you fly tomorrow, be sure and check the ignition sequence and do the gyro calibrations.”

“Stop trying to talk shop with me,” Hal pleads. “How ‘bout you tell me about how you do your hair or something, anything less painful.”

“You’re just mad because I know more about flux capacitors than you.”

Hal groans, dropping his forehead against your shoulder. You laugh beneath him as you turn the knob on the stove to turn the burner off.

“If you’re done being dramatic, can you grab the plates?” you request.

“Dramatic?!” Hal exclaims. “I have never, not once in my life been dramatic. Not since 1993, at least.”

“Trauma jokes aren’t always funny, Hal,” you chide, “but that one wasn’t bad.”

“I bet you’d laugh at the Flash’s trauma jokes,” Hal murmurs as he reaches over your head to get two plates from your cabinet.

“Hey, I need to go shopping this weekend, wanna come with?” you invite as you serve yourself and Hal.

“As riveting as that sounds, I already have plans,” Hal deadpans.

“Okay, I’ll ask my neighbor to tell me how the jeans fit.”

“On second thought,” Hal interjects, turning toward you with his finger raised.

Shaking your head, you place Hal’s plate by the seat that has become his and sit beside him. He’s your friend, but teasing him about hanging out with other people – other men, specifically – riles him up in a way you can’t resist.

A crash sounds in the distance as you take the first bite of dinner, and within ten seconds, Hal’s phone chimes. He taps the screen, reads the message, and looks up at you with an apology ready.

“Go,” you say, smiling. “I’ll pack up the leftovers if you get off work again any time soon.”

Hal sighs and pushes up from his seat. He leans toward you to kiss your cheek, but you turn toward him at the last minute, expecting him to wish you a sarcastic farewell, and your lips meet. Time freezes, and all you can feel or think of is Hal’s lips against yours. Friends kiss sometimes, right? you think rather than let yourself realize how right it feels.

You exhale and move back, keeping your gaze on Hal’s widened eyes as he clears his throat. His hand is flat against the table and only inches remain between you.

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out. “I didn’t know you were-“

“Going for your cheek, yeah,” Hal finishes. “Sorry.”

“Uh, be- be safe, okay?” you stutter. “We’ll talk.”

“Later, yeah, we’ll talk later,” he agrees, walking backward toward the door.

“Hal, wait,” you call.

He stops, and his brows raise as he leans toward you.

“Your jacket,” you remind him, pointing to the back of the chair.

Hal shakes his head and murmurs, “Oh, right,” as he snatches it up. “Bye.”

After he leaves, Green Lantern flies across the sky, and you raise your fingers to your lips, forgetting about dinner.

It was accidental, you remind yourself. Pull it together; he was going for your cheek. Like a friend. Because that’s what you are.

Days after your accidental kiss, you exit your bedroom with one thing on your mind: Justice League-themed breakfast drinks. You aren’t sure why Coast City’s most popular tea and coffee chain decided to create teas and coffees based on superheroes. After scrolling through too many copycat recipes last night, you want to try one.

The television in your living room is on, though you don’t remember leaving the volume on. Shrugging, you enter the kitchen and look through your cabinets to gather ingredients before you open the fridge.

“… A spokesperson says Ferris Aircraft pilot Hal Jordan ejected in time and no one was injured,” a reporter says. “There will be a press conference Friday afternoon regarding the company’s future and the Air Force’s decisions on acquiring the latest Ferris technology.”

You push the fridge closed and look into the living room. Someone moves in the shadow of the television light, and your heart thumps harder in your chest. They move toward the doorway, and you raise a carton of milk as the shadow moves something between their arms.

As he steps into the kitchen, Hal pulls his shirt over his head, then immediately raises his hands in surrender.

“Put the milk down,” he requests slowly.

“What-“ you begin before your eyes drop quickly to Hal’s exposed chest. “You- the-“

“Deep breath,” Hal advises. “Can I finish putting this shirt on without getting hit by that milk?”

You swallow and lift your gaze back to Hal’s face. He smiles and grips the bottom of his shirt to yank it downward.

“You look disappointed,” he muses. “Want me to take it off again?”

“Shut up,” you grumble, setting the milk on the counter. “You didn’t tell me you had to eject from the plane.”

“It was an accident,” he responds. “That’s all.”

“You…” With your eyes on the counter, you say, “You’re a good pilot, Hal. This kind of stuff isn’t supposed to happen to you.”

“It happens to everybody,” he reminds you. “I’m fine, I promise. Now, what are you making?”

Your mind clears, something which occurs often when Hal is around, and you turn toward him. Crossing your arms over your chest, you say, “I don’t think I want to tell you.”

“Ooh,” he breathes out, smiling as he leans against the counter beside you. “It must be embarrassing.”

“You know, you’re missing some really good cartoons, and I think Channel 7 is showing-“

“You think you’re funny,” Hal interrupts, dropping his head against his shoulder.

“I think I’m adorable,” you correct. “And I’m not telling you what I’m making because you’ll make fun of me.”

“Me? Make fun of you? I’d never.” Hal shifts so his weight rests on his hip, propped against the counter, before he adds, “That’s what friends are for.”

“Friends, right,” you murmur, twisting the food coloring package so you can see it.

“Can I have one?” Hal inquires.

“I’m not making them,” you say through a laugh. “Not until you leave. You do still have a home, right?”

Hal looks around, then says, “This place is pretty homey, and I distinctly remember you saying, ‘Make yourself at home, Hally-Wally.’”

You lift one brow and point out, “I have never – and will never – call you Hally-Wally.”

“Let’s make a wager,” Hal announces.

“Are you serious?”

“I’m serious.”

Hal doesn’t say anything else. He looks at you, so you sigh and ask, “What wager?”

“If I win, you make us whatever you're wanting to make. If you win, you get to pick something to call me for a week – appropriate, inappropriate, stupid, whatever you want.”

“That doesn’t seem fair. Wait, what’s the wager? What are we doing to win?”

Hal smiles. “We’re going to fight.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Oh,” Hal says, moving back as if surprised. “I didn’t realize you were scared.”

“I’m not scared, I just know you’d win.”

“Not that I don’t appreciate the confidence, but we have to do something.”

“No, we don’t! You can just go home.” After you say it, you realize you don’t actually know why Hal is in your apartment. Or why he was changing clothes in your living room.

“C’mon,” Hal whispers. “Live a little.”

You sigh and rub the side of your palm gently across your forehead. “Fine. But if I win, you have to take me on another desert drive.”

“Deal,” Hal says, extending his hand.

“And do donuts,” you add.

Hal nods, and you take his hand. After he shakes it once, Hal uses your joined hands to pull you forward. As you fall toward the ground, you grab Hal’s arm with your free hand and bring him down with you. On the floor of your apartment, you move your shoulders, attempting to get out from underneath Hal. You knew before you agreed it would be hard, if not impossible, to defeat Hal in a fight. Granted, it’s not a real fight, and there are no rules, so you move your hand to Hal’s side and dance your fingers along his serratus anterior.

“No,” Hal grunts, jerking sideways.

You roll with him, landing against his side and pushing up onto your elbow. Reaching across his chest, you try to pull his other arm across him, but Hal fights against your movement. He leans away from you so you reach higher. When Hal leans up, planning to hook his leg between yours to flip you once more, his jaw brushes against yours. You stop, and Hal slows. His lips press against the corner of your mouth, and yours are on his cheek because of the angle caused by your failed roughhousing. How you accidentally kissed Hal twice in one week isn’t clear, but the world around you seems to slow.

“Sorry,” you whisper against his cheek.

“My fault,” he answers, unconsciously moving his lips against yours.

You lean back onto your heels and wait for Hal to sit up.

“Call it a draw?” he inquires, reaching forward to straighten your shirt.

“I’ll, uh, I can make the drinks,” you offer. “If you want to stay.”

“Sure,” Hal says with a nod. “And thanks for telling me it’s a drink.”

You stand and walk toward the kitchen. “It’s the Green Lantern latte.”

Hal smiles as he watches you go, wondering if he’d be pressing his luck by asking if you like Green Lantern or are just thirsty.

The Ferris Aircraft cafeteria is never busy. You visit Hal at work a few times a month or so, usually over lunch, and you’ve never seen more than twenty people in the space at one time. Today, you ignore the other people sitting at the wing-shaped tables and watch the door. Hal texted that he was running late and you have a joke ready to go about how much time he spends admiring himself in the mirror.

When the door swings open, however, your smile drops. A large, dark-haired man dressed in a blue and gold overcoat enters the cafeteria with an umbrella hooked over his wrist.

“Live and let live, people!” he yells, cracking his knuckles as he looks around the room. “Anyone in here been struck by lightning?”

No one answers, and the man shakes his head. He points at a Ferris Aircraft employee using his phone beneath the table, and a lightning bolt extends from his pointer finger. The phone sparks before it falls to the floor, and a woman whimpers as she sinks in her seat.

“I suggest you start talking,” the man demands. “If you’re staying quiet to save your life, there is no need. I’m not here for you, I’m here for them.”

He points to the flight control tower and a black storm cloud forms above it.

“What do you want?” someone asks.

“Carl Ferris designed an indestructible fighter jet. I want the prototype.”

“It was destroyed!”

“You really believe that?” he challenges.

The room falls silent, and his jaw tenses. The sky outside darkens, and thunder rumbles loudly, rattling the tables and chairs. Gripping your seat, you watch the man.

“That kind of thing can’t be safe,” you call. “It wouldn’t be easy to find, if it even exists anymore.”

Turning toward you slowly, the man muses, “You seem to know a lot about it.”

“Just-“ you interrupt yourself with a swallow. “Just common sense, I think. It sounds dangerous and there’s so many regulations on military-grade weapons.”

“Then use that common sense to tell me where it might be.”

“I have no idea; I don’t even work here!”

“So, you don’t fly?”

“No.”

The man runs his tongue over his top lip. “I’m Major Disaster. What’s your name?”

You whisper your name, and he walks toward you, leaning against the opposite side of your table.

“Lightning strikes are dangerous. The last one I felt wiped parts of my memory, made it harder to do what I’m good at-“

“Villainy?” someone interjects flatly.

You keep your eyes on Major Disaster, but he turns quickly.

“Green Lantern,” he seethes. “It’s too late. I know what I deserve, and I’m going to take it.”

Green Lantern shrugs, then says, “No, you’re not.”

Major Disaster points to you and says, “She can’t fly.”

“Neither can you, if memory serves,” Green Lantern replies. “Although, I guess yours doesn’t, does it?”

Green Lantern flies out of the way of a sudden lightning bolt. As the sky becomes pitch black outside, several employees run toward the exit and into the hallway.

“I know who you are!” Major Disaster roars.

“You knew who I am, Paul,” Green Lantern replies. “Still just causing chaos. Not quite the life you wanted, huh?”

Major Disaster stops suddenly and turns toward you. You scramble off your seat, but Major Disaster extends his arms toward you, and a strong gust of wind pins you against the wall.

Green Lantern forms a transparent green train and knocks Major Disaster off his feet, but the hurricane-force wind continues to hold you in place.

“You want a plane, you’re going to have to build it yourself,” Green Lantern growls as he kicks Major Disaster to keep him down. “Clear the sky and I’ll let you walk out of here with your dignity.”

Major Disaster laughs and leans against Green Lantern’s foot. “What dignity? How am I supposed to build a plane that stands up to what I can do?”

Green Lantern looks at you and notices that you’re struggling to breathe with increased pressure on your chest. Major Disaster uses his loss of focus to knock Green Lantern off of him and onto one of the tables.

“You can fly, GL,” Major Disaster says, his coat fluttering in his created breeze. “I can fly. She can’t. So, I’ll give you a choice. Help me find my plane, or she takes a little flight.”

“I don’t make deals with psychopaths, Paul,” Green Lantern replies, holding his ringed hand out before him.

Major Disaster clicks his tongue, then sweeps his arms from right to left. The wind holding you in place shifts, and the glass windows shatter before you’re tossed out of them. Carried up on a wind vortex, you scream and wave your hands wildly, attempting to find anything to catch yourself with.

Major Disaster yells as he Green Lantern shoves him into the concrete runway, then silences. He loses consciousness, and his weather clears. The sky shines a bright blue, the clouds fade over the horizon, and the wind holding you up calms in a single breath. Suddenly, your yells of fear turn to a continuous, terrified scream as you freefall toward the earth. Your head spins as your chest heaves, though your lungs feel completely devoid of oxygen. Closing your eyes, you anticipate you’ll never open them again, but warm arms wrap around you, and you stop. You move quickly, pressing one hand against the firm chest you’re being held against.

Opening your eyes, you see Green Lantern holding you and lowering slowly toward the ground. Your breaths remain short and uneven, and when he drops one arm to set you on the ground, you cling to Green Lantern like he’s the only thing keeping you grounded – literally and figuratively.

“Hey,” he murmurs, keeping one hand around your waist as the other moves to the back of your head. “Uh, miss? Take a deep breath.”

“He- I-“ you stutter before struggling to take another breath.

“C’mon, focus, breathe with me,” he encourages.

You shake your head, too panicked to even consider watching his breaths to imitate them, and he tightens his grip on you.

Without much thought, he pulls you against him. Green Lantern kisses you, and with your lips pressed firmly to his, you forget about the fear and the panic and freeze at the sudden attention.

He pulls back almost immediately, apologizes, asks if you’re okay, waits for you to nod, and then flies away. You turn, panting for breath, and watch the green streak fade into the blue sky.

“Hal Jordan,” you whisper before you run toward the approaching police cars.

Hal paces on a rooftop, tapping his fist against his forehead as he thinks. He replays the kiss, sees the look in your eyes again, and berates himself for ruining everything. You froze when Hal kissed you because he overstepped and didn’t think. He was running on adrenaline, relieved that he caught you and needed you to breathe, but there were other ways to deal with all of those things. It wasn’t an intentional kiss, even if the feelings behind it were.

“Stop accidentally kissing your friends, Hal,” he tells himself. “Friend! Singular. Don’t make this a habit or Barry will never let you live it down.”

Hal’s ring grows brighter, and he sighs before he follows its beckoning call.

“Green Lantern!”

Hal turns away from his incapacitated foe and says, “I’m sorry.”

You don’t reply, running toward him. He apologizes again as you near him, but you remain silent. When you reach him, you slide your hands up his chest and onto his shoulders. He holds your waist and watches you.

“Are you-“ he begins.

You kiss Hal, interrupting his question and changing everything. It’s not the first time you’ve kissed him, but it’s the first time you’ve meant it and done it on purpose to show him how you feel. Hal is your friend, but you’ve felt more for years, and after kissing Green Lantern today and feeling the emotions behind how he touched you, you’re sure this is the right thing to do.

The accidental kisses made the world still but this kiss is different. Hal raises one hand to your cheek, moving with you as the world shatters. You only know Hal in this moment, and he is all you will ever want or need.

Hal pulls back and rests his forehead against yours. His thumb brushes over your cheek, and for once in his life, Hal stays quiet.

“Let’s make a wager,” you whisper.

“You already know my secret identity, what could we possibly bet?”

“I think there’s a lot more options now that we aren’t friends who kiss on accident.”

“Oh, we’re lovers now?” he jokes.

“I do have a crush on Green Lantern,” you reply with a smile.

“He might like you, too.”

“Might?!” you repeat incredulously. “That’s how it is?”

Hal shrugs, and a green light flashes on your wrist before a charm bracelet appears. The links are decorated with little planes, green gems, coffee cups, and a heart.

“That’s how it is,” he says.

“What now?”

Hal smiles and holds you against his side as he pushes off the ground and shoots upward into the sky. You wrap your arms around him tightly, focusing on Hal rather than Coast City growing smaller beneath you.

Hal lands in the desert, where his car is parked, and his suit disappears.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” he announces. “Again.”

“On accident?” you ask, stepping toward the car. “Because I was wrongly distracted when we were fighting for drifting in the sand.”

Hal disappears, and you raise your brows before you feel him standing behind you. He puts his hand on your waist and turns you to face him before he kisses you again.

Bonus:

“Wait, you’ve been Green Lantern this whole time?!” you ask, stepping back from Hal.

“Not the whole time,” he replies, his brows pinching.

“I was worried about you crashing a plane, but you can fly,” you accuse, pushing both hands against his chest.

Hal catches your wrists and points out, “I was worried about you crashing too. Call it even?”

“Not a chance.”

[gatorbites-imagines]

Urggg I’ve been submitting this ask to multiple blogs for ages with different characters lol. How about the reader faking an orgasm with superboy or green lantern. Is it weird that I find how writers handle that prompt interesting? And when they take the route of the characters telling them to cut that shit out and doubling their efforts it makes me laugh.

Hal Jordan and Conner Kent/Kon-el

Headcanons

Since you didn’t specify which Green Lantern, I chose Hal since I love him very much. Individual headcanons for each won’t be as long as usual, since I wanted to write both.

couldnt find a good gif related to these too, so,,,

Hal Jordan

I think it depends on your guy’s relationship. If you two are a couple who’s been together for a while, Hal would notice one way or another. As a green lantern, Hal has gotten pretty damn good at reading body language, so he clocks you faking after a while.

I can see him huffing and sighing, not out of anger or anything, mainly just for show, before he hikes you into his lap or closer to him as he makes some comment about him not doing it good enough.

Hal would take it as a challenge, as long as you are into it of course. Don’t think you get out of talking about it, because you will. It becomes a bit annoying as pillow talk, but Hal wants feedback and wants to know how you’re doing.

He might even pull this in the middle of doing it, like making you look in his eyes to make you confirm that you’re good. When he gets the confirmation though, Hal doesn’t hold back. Since you felt the need to fake it, Hal feels the need to wring as many out of you as possible, just as payback, or so he says.

It’s no shocker that he’s great with his hands, and that the ring joins the fray at some point. Its just always so fun to catch you off guard with one of his projections, only to make you arch your back and moan about it five seconds after.

It ends up being a bit of an ego boost for Hal, but what else is new.

Conner Kent

I feel like Conner would clock it immediately. Having super senses gives him that advantage. Like hearing your heart does not stutter the same way as it normally does when you orgasm, or that he can’t immediately pick up the scent of your spend.

Depending on how far you guys are in your relationship, Conner would stop and ask. If it’s the very beginning of you two dating, he might not say anything, instead internalizing it and telling himself to try harder next time.

But if you guys are comfortable, Conner would just stop thrusting and look at you before asking if it doesn’t feel good and if you’re not up for it.

Conner would feel so bad if you felt like you had to sleep with him, which is why he asks and needs to know. And he’s always liked performing to the best of his abilities, so if he’s doing something you don’t like, he wants to know that too.

If its just one of those situations where you just… cant finish, then he wont feel bad about it either, though there’s a big chance he won’t want to keep going. Most of the fun is that you feel good, so you not enjoying it as much as he is takes the wind out his sails.

If its something he’s doing wrong, like not hitting the right place or grabbing you too tight, whatever, Conner will immediately take it as a challenge to make you see stars one way or another. His secret, not so secret weapon, is giving head, since he has no gag reflex, a very flexible tongue, and can hold his breath for probably hours if he wanted too.

[dearest-dirt]

Headcanons: Hal Jordan as a dad

Warnings: Fluff

Gender Neutral Reader

Authors Note: Hi!! I'm trying to get through stuff I've already written in the past. But, I've lost interest in DC, so this is gonna be the last set of DC headcanons (unless I get back into it in the future). As with my other head canons, I tried to make these as inclusive as possible so if you catch any mistakes, please let me know. Bestie, please reblog. I hope you enjoy my work!

Masterlist

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chill dad™ 

Would definitely want a few kids, especially after the first one. 

Hands-on dad, tries to be super involved with his kid’s upbringing and life. He helped out as much as he physically could with the newborns. 

Knows all his kids likes and dislikes.

Would play dress up, have tea parties, play with Barbies and dolls, nerf gun fights, video games, superheroes and villains, cops and robbers, water balloon fights, etc. Basically anything his kids want to do he’s down.

Dad jokes galore

Constantly would show the Justice League and other Lanterns pictures and videos of his kids. 

“Hey, wanna see my kid do a black flip on the trampoline?” 

“Look at my kids, aren’t they just the cutest?”

“We took the kids to the zoo, look at them feeding the giraffes.”

Supportive af!

His kids would never feel like they can’t tell him or talk to him about something. 

When his kids are infants, he’ll fly them around the house to get them to settle down. 

Cute things you constantly witness: 

Hal passed out with a baby napping on his chest

airplane noises whenever he feeds them

reading books to them with funny voices and sound effects

pretending his kids are planes and “flying” them around the room

Him being wet from bath time because he got carried away playing with the ducks and other toys

kids climbing him every time he sits down

Super affectionate dad; tells them constantly that he loves them and is proud of them. 

Hal would be firm and strict with his kids if and when he needs to be.

He wants to be the best dad that he possibly could, so at times he can be super insecure about his parenting abilities. He always turns to you when he feels like that and you always reassure him and point out how great he is. He would do the same to you whenever you feel insecure about being a good parent. 

First time he was called away for superhero business, he would be a mess. Constantly calling to make sure the baby was okay. 

“Hal, you called 10 minutes ago! The baby is fine!”

“I know but I just want to make sure.” 

But overtime and with each kid he got better at dealing with being away.

You guys would decide not to tell your kids that he's a Green Lantern until they are old enough to keep secrets (because kids tell everyone everything). But once they find out, oh boy, they would always want him to fly them around and beg him to use the ring to play games. Hal would love it! Especially if he’s their favorite superhero. 

Hal would take you guys to OA and other different planets when the kids are old enough.

Would help with homework if he’s home. Wouldn’t always get things right though.

“Dad, the answer is 43. How did you get 186?” 

“I swear this was easier when I was in school!” 

Would beg you to let him take them out on plane rides. 

“They’ll be fine, babe! I’ll take care of them! They’ll love it!” 

“Hal, they are toddlers.”

Barry, Guy, and Kyle would be the best uncles! So would the other Lanterns/League members! 

“The Flash is my favorite superhero!” 

“Uncle Guy/Kyle's the best green lantern ever.” 

“Batman’s the coolest superhero ever.” 

“No, Superman's cooler because he can shoot lasers from his eyes.” 

Hal: -_-

Loves his kids more than anything!

[yandere-wishes]

These two live in my brain rent-free and refuse to be evicted!!😭😭

IDK why I'm so obsessed with the idea of Hal and Kyle sharing a darling. Of Hal "trying" to be a "good" mentor/older brother and teaching Kyle how to properly flirt with reader, only for it to fail terribly. It progressively gets worst since once reader is kidnapped and trapped between their arms. Hal takes the incitive and tries to teach Kyle how to kiss you and how to please you.

Just thinking about how deep and teasing Hal's kisses are compared to Kyle's rushed and desperate kisses😫💞😫💞 these two would drive poor darling crazy!!

[dollwritesarchive]

𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 — 𝐡𝐚𝐥 𝐣𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐚𝐧 & 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮��𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!wayne!reader, age gap ( reader is 18+ and Hal & Barry are in their 40s ), daddy kink, filming sex acts ( and sharing them without reader’s knowledge ), oral sex ( m!receiving ), facial, slight dumbification, peer pressure, all characters featured are 18+ 

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ this is actually the prelude to my halbarry dp request, i just felt it would be better to split them into two parts. do not repost or translate. please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading <3

“Jesus Christ, Hal, can you at least turn the sound down a little bit?” Barry was staring— crimson-cheeked, sapphire eyes big as saucers, at the video on the screen of Hal’s phone. the sound was turned all the way up, and it seemed like your fervent clucking and Hal’s grunting was bouncing off each wall and coming back to make him dizzy. “Someone’s going to hear it.”  he already knew he was watching something he shouldn’t be, and his anxiety was turned up to one thousand: terrified that Batman would appear at the door any moment, and hear the sounds of his daughter’s throat being violated by a team member. Barry would be an accomplice to that, in his mind at least. but he was still staring at the video. 

for some reason, he couldn’t look away. 

but Hal wasn’t even listening; he hadn’t stopped talking about it. grinning widely, he had his fist clapped on Barry’s shoulder, “— I’m tellin’ ya, that girl loves to suck cock. She was begging me, both hands in my jeans, big puppy dog eyes,” 

“Hal…” 

“— when I finally gave in and pulled it out, she fuckin’ went crazy for it. Said she’d never sucked anything so big before. You shoulda seen her trying to get the whole thing in her mouth; kept just whining and licking, I had to step in after a minute and shove it in for her. Cute, little thing nearly choked.” Hal sank his teeth into his lower lip, reminiscent of just how happy you looked, as he watched your head bobbing up and down on the recording. your eyes were looking up directly into the camera, pupils blown out with lust, eyelashes wet where the tip of his dick battered the entrance of your throat and teased your gag reflex. “Just look at her, man. She was dripping wet after just sucking me.” 

Barry blushed deeper— you did look like you were enjoying it. and, as wrong as it may have been, he was kind of liking watching it. 

when Hal’s hand pushed your head down and the entirety of his cock disappeared, you gag but your eyes roll back. he only holds it for a second before he lets go and you bounce back up, sputtering for air. “Look at me, baby girl,” Hal was panting, and when your eyelids fluttered upwards toward the camera, Hal grabs hold of the base of his cock, now shiny with your spit. Barry realized then that Hal must’ve used a construct to hold the phone steady, because one hand was gripping himself, while the other angles your face in the desired position, his fingers dipping into your mouth for only a moment. he slaps the bulbous, pink tip against your cheek hard, and you whimper in sordid delight, a dazed smile on your swollen lips, “‘s Batman your daddy, huh?” closing one eye, you mewl and shake your head. “No?” he teases. “Am I your daddy?” whining with your mouth hanging open, hoping to persuade him to get bored of spanking it against your cheek and lips and slip it back in, you nod. 

“Do you have a death wish? Seriously, do you?” Barry asked, incredulous. but, he couldn’t deny, he felt a subtle ping of jealousy towards his friend. “You do realize if Bruce or the Batkids find out about this, you’re toast, right?”

Hal grins wider, his eyes glued to the screen, “Wait, wait, wait! Watch this part, this part is real good.” he clearly didn’t care about the possible repercussions. 

“You’re my daddy,” you purr, grasping his cock with both hands. Hal releases a euphoric exhale when you suck on the head, stroking the remaining inches in tandem, “Green Lantern’s my daddy!” your voice was heavily muffled since your mouth was full, but when you looked up at the lens, Barry could see your eyes smiling. they were sparkling, and his breath caught in his throat. you were so happy to be pleasing him. 

“Jeez…” he mutters, mostly to himself. he was humiliated to admit that he was hard in his joggers. 

“I know, right?” Hal chortles, running his finger against the screen to scrub ahead. he hits the pad of his finger on the play button in the middle of the screen when your face is painted with his cum, dripping down your chin, and he’s holding your hair at the crown of your head. 

“Like that, baby girl?” Hal was crooning, rubbing his twitching cock over your parted lips as it spurts what remained of his release; each eruption granting a moan that rumbles deep in his chest, “Like that daddy made you all messy and cute? Does my cum taste good?” 

giggling, you nod, your tongue swirling around the tip. you seemed utterly drunk on it; Barry was looking into the pixels of your eyes, examining how glassy they were. he could imagine that you probably couldn’t even remember your own name in that moment. it seemed like the only thing on your mind was Hal’s cock. 

lucky bastard. 

“Yeah? Can’t even use your words anymore?” a shake of your head and an incomprehensible babble later, Hal guides the tip of his cock back to press against your slack lips, which part with absolutely no resistance, and take him into your mouth again as you gurgle a happy whine. “That’s a good girl,” he purrs, and his hips jut forward to give you every inch again, “if you’re too cockdrunk to talk, we can just put that pretty mouth back to work. Clean me up, baby. Make sure you swallow all the cum you suck off me.” 

the video ends there, and Barry doesn’t say anything for several seconds. he just stares at your face as it’s paused— he never expected he would ever see you like that, and he was ashamed to admit that it was sexy as hell. still, you were Bruce’s daughter, and Barry couldn’t believe that, in that moment, he wanted to be Hal. he wanted to be the one in the video, feeding you cock, watching you devour it until your eyes crossed. a plethora of other vulgar possibilities crossed his mind in the short period of time between the end of the video and when Hal spoke again. 

like what you must look like with your legs spread open, soft wet pussy clenching and begging to be fucked. he could hear his name in your gentle voice, and he physically rejected a shudder to creep up his spine as he envisioned pushing his cock into you. you must be so tight, he would have to force it. 

“You know I can send you the video if you need it for jerk material, right?” Hal teased, digging his elbow into his super friend’s rib cage. effectively pulling Barry out of his sordid thoughts. “After all, I get to play with the real deal any time I want. She said so herself: she wants to be my little stress reliever.” 

“You’re absolutely insane.” Barry countered with a bemused shake of his head. “Batman’s gonna find out eventually. He has to. He’s Batman.” 

Hal quirks a brow, “Yeah, exactly. He’s Batman, which means he’s a little preoccupied saving the world with us to keep tabs on who his daughter is fucking, don’tcha think, buddy? Relax, I know what I’m doing.” giving Barry’s shoulder a pat, he tilts his head, murmuring thoughtfully, “Besides, you’re the only one that I wanted to show, Bar.” 

Barry’s eyes narrows as he looks at his friend, suspiciously now. “Why?” 

Hal’s eyes twinkled with mischievous delight, and he juts his chin in reference to his phone. “Because I want you to get in on it.” 

“What??” 

“C’mon, Barry,” Hal pleaded, shoving his phone into his back pocket, “you’re really gonna try and tell me I didn’t just watch you drool over that video? You don’t want to fuck her with me? Hear her moan and squeal for you like she does for me? It would be so much fun filling her up from both ends, tossing her back and forth. She’d love it, too. The little batbrat likes it rough as hell.” 

Barry opened his mouth to protest, but he couldn’t find a lie convincing enough to persuade his friend and himself. so he sighed, and settled with, “So now you’re trying to get us both killed.” 

it wasn’t a yes, but it definitely wasn’t a no, and Hal realized this. 

[earlgreylatte]

Returnee

(Justice League Various x Reader) After centuries of surviving in a world without another human in sight, you return and find the heroes you once admired to be the only interesting things around, besides beating the shit out of monsters, of course.

Implied sexual content ahead, minors DNI.

You would describe yourself to be the pinnacle of mediocrity, your life consisting of drowning in course readings and dealing with people’s bullshit in your customer service job. You existed. You may not have been wholly content, but you got by.

And, sure you, like millions of other desolate young adults, had fantasies of escapism, being strong, being someone special. But you ultimately knew your place. You were no hero; no alien or chosen human that could answer to a greater calling. You were just you, average in every way. So unlike the heroes and villains that occupy your world. You’ll never make an impact that’ll even come close to the likes of them.

The only thing you can hope to do is try to make your parent’s suffering of starting a life here worth it. That all the money and work invested in you would have some sort of pay off. Even if it means you had to traverse a path you’re still uncertain about.

You knew your limits, and maybe that rigid acceptance is what led to your own self destruction.

You find yourself in a desolate world void of humans but occupied with beasts unlike anything you have ever seen before, with sharpened talons and razored blades for teeth. No matter how much you cry and scream you do not wake up. The only communication you get comes in the form of ‘tabs’ that resemble something out of a video game. It’s gives you quests to adhere, reminders to keep things interesting, notifications you’re being watched by deities that watch your struggle like a show to tune into. Every moment, no matter how humiliating, is spectated.

You want nothing more to return to the life you had, answer the messages you never got the chance to respond to, try the things you never got to even attempt. You curse your inaction, your own spoiled thoughts from a lifetime ago, your parents for even giving birth to you if this is the reality you have to face.

Your survival hangs on a thread at first, you only being able to run away from the larger beasts. Eventually your tears dry, you fight back against the ones smaller than you. These Outergods sponsor you with a game like currency. You level up. You acquire gear better than a makeshift bone shiv. You consume. You sleep. And you do it all over again for the next couple centuries in this world. You do not age, but you grow taller, strengthened by the creatures you slaughter. Eventually, you don’t need a blade to slay them anymore. Then the beasts try to avoid you. You still kill them. They’re never ending. The least they can do is give you something to do in their infinity.

You stop feeling fear, sadness, indignation, and even hatred. You exist. You somewhat remember the life and name you had before. You don’t really feel one way about it or the other. Your family, obligations, and old identity are all null and void to you now.

Clearly your spectators grow bored as they send you back to the world you once called yours. Apparently barely a year has passed since you were taken, even if you might be the oldest human to walk Earth now.

For the first time in a long time, you’re struck with uncertainty. A world that isn’t stuck in time, one loud with the presence of people, and yet you feel no relief or sanctity in the safety of your old home. No, you’re struck with how just like in that beast world, you’re still horrifically, agonizingly bored.

Until you notice a hoard of androids terrorize the street. You can feel the blood thrumming in your veins, and you realize with renewed vigour that it wasn’t bloodshed that you had yearned for, but the thrill of battle, not knowing if you’ll live, and putting everything you had left on the line after abandoning the softness that once defined your modern life.

And so you fought. You were barely grazed with a laser, but you could appreciate the adrenaline rushing through your body, the uncertainty of a new adversary. You paid little mind to the screaming civilians trying to evacuate the streets, all you cared about was tearing about these metal beings before they could even try to do the same to you.

You’re broken from the euphoria of battle when you feel a whoosh of air behind you, and a dozen androids deactivate before you.

“Hey there, don’t think I’ve ever seen you around,” what appeared to be living electrical energy clad in crimson spoke to you, in a tone you could almost recognize as friendly. “Not that I mind the help! I’m always happy to meet—!”

You can feel your pupils dilate as every inch of your body screams that this man is dangerous. Powerful. Different from the fodder you faced before.

“—so, what do you go by?”

Summoning your broad sword, you swiftly slam it into the ground below, watching the man get tossed back by its force as the concrete crumbles beneath him.

You toss your sword to where he lands, but he quickly recovers and disappears before reappearing before you.

“Woah, what are you—“ you interrupt him by throwing a punch but he dodges again, “Can we talk about this sudden aggression—!?”

Tiring of his evasion, you recall your sword and prepare to strike the ground again before pausing as a sudden rush of memories strikes you.

“Ah,” you hum, before stretching out your hand, halting the approaching speedster that stares at you confused. “You’re that one hero…Bolt, or whatever. Speed guy.”

Yes, a hero. Not a warrior. Not a survivor. And certainly not a killer. You feel the apathy rush back as you stare at him. No, you wouldn’t get a real fight out of him. He’d sooner try to subdue you. Non-lethally. Honestly, he was way too nice.

“Flash? I mean, I’m the Flash, hero of the city you’re in!” The speedster fumbles for a second, starting at you in puzzlement.

“Yeah, let’s just call it here.” You sigh before walking away. You definitely forgot heroes were a thing for a second. And takeout.

You’re stopped in your tracks when Flash blocks your path.

“Woah there, you can’t just leave!” He protests.

“Why not?”

“You took down like hundreds of androids, attacked me, and-and you haven’t even introduced yourself!”

“Hmm, I think I forgot my name,” you reply, bring a hand up to your chin in mock contemplation.

“What-?”

“Do you want to have sex with me or something?” You ask. “Because you’re being a bit clingy, man.”

The hero states at you with his mouth agape, and you can see the red flush growing around his cowl.

“I get it, it’s pretty easy for arousal to mix with thrill in battle. I won’t say I’m not attracted to you, but I’ve got things to do, people to fight, and I doubt I can get what I need from you,” you explain nonchalantly. “But hey, keep your head up, man. There’s some charm in being the fastest man alive. I’d test it under different circumstances, really.”

You back away as Flash remains still as a statue, exposed skin now matching his suit as he blankly watched you leave.

“What just happened…?”

Honestly you don't have anything against heroes. You pity them, really. They remind you of your own inexperience once upon a time, fighting against the inevitable. But you can't deny that there are some with years beyond even yours, continuing to fight in their crusade.

Some more interesting than others.

Hawkgirl, who you recall to have been a member of the Justice Society of America, was someone that made you look like a babe in comparison to the lifetimes held in that strong body. Good fighter too. You're almost disappointed your battle was interrupted by another invasion and she apparently found you to be an ally rather than an opponent after that. You just wanted to see if those aliens were worth a damn.

Wonder Woman also stood out for the same reason, encountering her when you arrived at Themyscira for a duel with their strongest. And boy did she deliver. But sadly you could see that she adopted a non-lethal style, fighting only till first blood rather than to the death.

At least their bathhouse was luxurious even if it was communal. Diana said that it was for bonding. You think she was totally checking you out.

You could say that you were becoming increasingly familiar with the growing Justice League, encountering its members every so often.

You didn't pick a fight, aware it would be more trouble than it was worth. You doubt you'd be too satisfied either.

So when you find yourself encountering the Bat in Gotham after subduing Clayface, you're not surprised.

You're also not surprised when he recites your name and missing status.

He drones on about the circumstances of your disappearance, your return as a much stronger (and hotter) individual, and your dubious intentions.

You throw you sword at him, and he ducks out of the way, throwing you a glare just as sharp as your blade.

You explain that he's not a great speaker, and he should invest in some interpersonal communication courses. And that's coming from you. You then add you'll leave after you try the recently opened batburger.

He gives you a ride in his Batmobile.

Superman was a bit of an irritating figure. A boy scout, despite his godlike abilities. Staring at him, you wonder how much kinetic force it would take to burst the blood vessels beneath that impenetrable skin.

"We would really like for you to visit the Watchtower! We understand if you may not want to commit to being a full time member, so if we could call on you—!"

He pauses when you outstretch your hand and stare at him with a raised eyebrow. He places his hand in yours, almost as if it was instinct, blushing when you brush your thumb across his skin.

You hum in thought before departing.

"Uh, wait! Was that a yes!?"

You're pretty sure you're about to bed Green Lantern. You had come to Coast City, curious to see if any disasters would occur to alleviate your boredom, but had instead ran into a man with swoopy hair and an nice aviator jacket in a bar. He was pleasant. He seemed charmed by your Superman/Lex Luthor conspiracy theories. And he talked about flying with a passion unfamiliar to you.

So when you ended up at his place, back against his door as he kissed and nipped at your neck, you pulled him back by his brown hair to look at you.

"I'm a virgin, by the way."

He stares at you incredulously with a touch of concern. "Are you sure this is how you want your first time to go? We don't have to do this."

You doubt you'll get a fight out of him. He'd probably just trap you in a construct, but there are other ways for you to get physical.

...and you needed the experience for the next time an Amazonian propositions you.

"I like you well enough. And I've waited a long time to actually do something like this," you reply, still playing with his hair.

"You really want to do this with an older guy?"

You laugh, "I'm definitely the older one here."

His lip twitches as he shoots you an amused look, "And I'm Batman."

"Do you really want to talk about him before we-?”

The lantern silences you with another hot kiss that you grin into.

Yes, this Justice League certainly made things interesting, even if some of them were obnoxious do-gooders.

Hal: So, what's your name?

Returnee, with jumbled memories: Demonic Blade of Slaughter

Hal:

Returnee: Do you want to have sex?

Returnee: So, yeah, I was trapped in a monster world for presumably centuries with these outer world gods being the only other sentient beings and they only made contact via stream chat donations. And the only thing that even elicits any emotional or physiological response in me is violence.

Batman, internally dying:

Returnee: Don't worry, I don't fight street tiers like you.

Diana: It's been a while since l've last had such an invigorating bout, I would love to spend more time testing how far we can push each other to... our limits.

Returnee, who spent the last centuries off Earth as a virgin: I hear the glory of battle calling, must be off, let's fight again soon!

Outergods: Okay, so the human has definitely cleared this world, so how about we return this bloody thirsty heathen back to their original world and see what entertainment we find in the chaos—!

Outergods: Okay, so they're just having sex with all these superpowered individuals. And is that—-Oh my god, is that Constantine!?

Outergods: Yeah, no, this is hot, I'm donating 10k coins for that.

Clearing out my drafts! I really love the whole system in ORV and I found the returnee concept so interesting. Masterlist

[urdreamydoodles]

DC Comics Characters x Fem!OC

How they handle your relationship with your dog

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

Bruce Wayne aka. Batman

- Bruce’s reaction to Mr. Pickles was a mixture of mild confusion and reluctant acceptance. “You chose… this?” he asked, gesturing at the small, fluffy dog that was currently gnawing on one of Alfred’s expensive loafers. But as Mr. Pickles wagged his tail and barked up at him, Bruce sighed and crouched down, carefully scratching behind the dog’s ears. “I suppose you’re harmless enough.”

- Though Bruce often claimed to be indifferent, he developed a subtle bond with Mr. Pickles. The dog had a knack for curling up at Bruce’s feet during late nights in the Batcave, his soft presence providing an unexpected comfort amidst the darkness. “He keeps me grounded,” Bruce admitted quietly one night, watching the tiny dog doze against his boots.

- Alfred, ever the enabler, ensured Mr. Pickles was well cared for, preparing gourmet meals and tailoring a small bed that perfectly matched the manor’s decor. Bruce protested, but you caught him sneaking the dog treats when he thought no one was watching. “He’s part of your life,” Bruce muttered when you teased him, “which means he’s part of mine.”

- Bruce admired how much joy Mr. Pickles brought to you. He often found himself captivated by the way you lit up when playing with your dog, your laughter filling the manor with a warmth that even he couldn’t resist. “You’re beautiful when you’re happy,” he said one evening, his voice low as he watched you cuddle Mr. Pickles.

- Though he’d never admit it, Bruce became fiercely protective of Mr. Pickles. He once had Lucius Fox design a custom GPS collar after the dog wandered off during a walk. “I can’t have anything happen to him,” Bruce said gruffly, avoiding your knowing smile. In his own way, he had grown to love the tiny fluff ball just as much as he loved you.

Kal-El (Clark Kent) aka. Superman

- Clark was instantly smitten with Mr. Pickles. The moment he saw the tiny ball of fluff, his face lit up with childlike wonder. “He’s adorable,” Clark declared, crouching down to let the dog sniff his hand. Mr. Pickles responded by leaping into Clark’s lap, earning a delighted laugh that made your heart flutter.

- Clark’s gentle nature made him an instant favorite with Mr. Pickles. The dog would follow him around wherever he went, yipping happily whenever Clark picked him up. “Looks like I’ve got a new best friend,” Clark teased, cradling the dog like a baby as you rolled your eyes with a smile.

- One of Clark’s favorite activities was taking Mr. Pickles on long walks around Smallville. The two of them would explore the open fields together, with Clark pointing out every interesting sight for Mr. Pickles to investigate. “Look at him go,” Clark said, laughing as the dog chased after a butterfly, his tail wagging furiously.

- Clark adored how much you loved Mr. Pickles. He often watched you play with the dog, his heart swelling with affection at the sight of your laughter. “You’re amazing, you know that?” he said softly one evening, pulling you into his arms as Mr. Pickles snuggled against your legs.

- When Mr. Pickles got into mischief, Clark was the first to come to his defense. Whether it was knocking over a lamp or chewing on your favorite shoes, Clark always managed to find the humor in the situation. “He’s just curious,” he said with a grin, scratching the dog’s ears. “Besides, how can you be mad at this face?”

Barry Allen aka. Flash

- Barry was ecstatic when he met Mr. Pickles. “Oh my god, this is the cutest dog ever!” he exclaimed, crouching down to pet the fluffy little dog. His enthusiasm was contagious, and Mr. Pickles responded with equal excitement, jumping up and licking Barry’s face as he laughed.

- The two of them quickly became inseparable. Barry’s boundless energy matched Mr. Pickles’ playful nature perfectly, and the two of them would spend hours running around the house together. “I think he’s my spirit animal,” Barry joked, watching as Mr. Pickles sprinted in circles, barking happily.

- Barry loved to spoil Mr. Pickles with treats and toys, often coming home with something new for the dog. “I couldn’t resist,” he said sheepishly, holding up a squeaky toy shaped like a lightning bolt. Watching Mr. Pickles wag his tail excitedly made it all worth it.

- Barry adored seeing you interact with Mr. Pickles. “You’re like the ultimate dog mom,” he teased, grinning as you brushed the dog’s fur or taught him a new trick. But there was a softness in his eyes as he watched you, a clear sign of how deeply he loved both you and your furry companion.

- On lazy days, the three of you would pile onto the couch together, with Mr. Pickles sprawled across both of your laps. Barry would drape an arm around you, pressing a kiss to your temple as he said, “I think this is what happiness looks like.” And in that moment, you couldn’t help but agree.

Diana of Themyscira aka. Wonder Woman

- Diana was utterly fascinated by Mr. Pickles. “Such a tiny creature, yet so full of life,” she mused, crouching down to study the dog with a mix of curiosity and admiration. Mr. Pickles, in turn, wagged his tail enthusiastically and licked her hand, earning a soft laugh from the Amazonian princess.

- Diana treated Mr. Pickles with the same respect she afforded everyone in her life. She spoke to him gently, as if he were a noble companion rather than a slightly clueless ball of fluff. “You have a brave heart,” she told him one day, stroking his fur as he barked at a passing squirrel.

- Walks with Diana and Mr. Pickles were nothing short of epic. She’d take him to serene parks or lush forests, marveling at his unbridled joy as he explored his surroundings. “He reminds me of the animals on Themyscira,” she said with a fond smile. “Free-spirited and full of wonder.”

- Diana loved how much joy Mr. Pickles brought to your life. She often watched you with a look of quiet reverence as you played or cuddled with your dog. “You have such a kind heart,” she said one evening, her voice filled with admiration. “It’s no wonder he loves you so much.”

- At night, Diana would often sit by the fire with Mr. Pickles curled up in her lap, her strong hands stroking his fur gently. “He is a reminder of the simple joys in life,” she said softly, glancing at you with a serene smile. “And of how lucky I am to share those joys with you.”

Arthur Curry aka. Aquaman

- Arthur’s first reaction to Mr. Pickles was a hearty laugh. “This is your dog? He’s like a walking puffball!” he said, grinning as the tiny dog barked up at him. But when Mr. Pickles jumped into his arms without hesitation, Arthur’s expression softened. “Alright, you’re pretty cool for a little guy.”

- Despite his rough exterior, Arthur had a soft spot for Mr. Pickles. He’d carry the dog around like a proud dad, often making jokes about how Mr. Pickles was his “new sidekick.” “Watch out, world,” he said with a chuckle. “The King of Atlantis and his trusty fluff ball are coming through.”

- Arthur loved taking Mr. Pickles to the beach, where the tiny dog would frolic in the sand and chase the waves. “He’s got more guts than most people I know,” Arthur said proudly, watching as Mr. Pickles barked at the crashing waves. “Must be hanging around me too much.”

- Arthur adored how much you loved Mr. Pickles. He often teased you about spoiling the dog, but there was a warmth in his eyes every time he saw you fussing over your furry companion. “You’re amazing, you know that?” he said one day, pulling you into his arms as Mr. Pickles yipped happily at your feet.

- On quiet evenings, Arthur would sit with you and Mr. Pickles on the dock, the ocean stretching out before you. With the dog curled up in his lap and your hand in his, Arthur would glance at you with a soft smile. “This is all I need,” he said simply, his deep voice carrying the weight of his love for you and the life you shared.

Hal Jordan aka. Green Lantern

- Hal’s first encounter with Mr. Pickles was filled with unrestrained laughter. “You’re telling me this little fluff ball runs your world?” he teased, crouching to meet the dog at eye level. Mr. Pickles responded by yipping excitedly and pouncing on Hal’s boots, instantly winning him over.

- Hal had a knack for turning everything into a game, and Mr. Pickles was no exception. He’d use his Green Lantern ring to create glowing balls of light for the dog to chase, laughing every time Mr. Pickles tumbled over himself in pursuit. “I think he’s got a future as a cosmic explorer,” Hal joked, ruffling the dog’s fur.

- Despite his devil-may-care attitude, Hal took his role as “dog dad” surprisingly seriously. He’d call you from missions just to check on Mr. Pickles. “How’s the little guy holding up?” he’d ask, his voice softening in a way that made your heart flutter.

- Hal loved the way Mr. Pickles brought out your playful side. Watching you roll on the floor with the dog or giggle as he chased his tail was enough to make Hal pause and admire you. “You know,” he said one day, his voice laced with affection, “you’re even more beautiful when you’re happy.”

- When it came to mischief, Hal and Mr. Pickles were a dangerous duo. Whether it was sneaking snacks or orchestrating harmless pranks, Hal would always defend the dog with a mischievous grin. “What can I say?” he said, shrugging as you raised an eyebrow. “The little guy’s got good taste in chaos.”

Oliver Queen aka. Green Arrow

- Oliver was immediately skeptical of Mr. Pickles. “You’re sure he’s a dog and not just a walking pillow?” he quipped, but his teasing faded the moment the tiny fluff ball curled up in his lap. “Alright, maybe he’s got some charm.”

- Despite his gruff exterior, Oliver had a soft spot for Mr. Pickles. He’d often find himself talking to the dog during quiet moments, his voice low and comforting. “You’ve got it easy, buddy,” he’d say, scratching behind the dog’s ears. “No rogues, no arrows. Just love.”

- Oliver adored how much you loved Mr. Pickles, even if he pretended to roll his eyes at your antics. He’d watch you play with the dog, a small smile tugging at his lips as he muttered, “You’re ridiculous, you know that?” But his eyes always betrayed his affection.

- Walks with Mr. Pickles became a cherished routine. Oliver would take the dog on hikes, carrying him in his arms whenever the terrain became too rough. “What? He’s got tiny legs,” he’d say defensively when you teased him about it.

- Mr. Pickles had a knack for defusing Oliver’s stress. After a long day, Oliver would sit on the couch with the dog nestled against his chest, the steady rhythm of his breathing calming both of them. “He’s not so bad,” Oliver admitted quietly, glancing at you with a rare softness.

John Constantine aka. Hellblazer

- John’s first reaction to Mr. Pickles was a bemused smirk. “Well, aren’t you a fancy little thing,” he said, crouching down to inspect the fluffy dog. Mr. Pickles responded by yipping and licking his outstretched hand, earning a low chuckle from the mage.

- Despite his dark and chaotic nature, John had a surprising way with animals, and Mr. Pickles was no exception. The dog would follow him around, tail wagging furiously, even as John grumbled about tripping over him. “You’ve got yourself a little shadow,” he told you, his tone half-exasperated, half-amused.

- John’s protective streak extended to Mr. Pickles in unexpected ways. He once placed a magical ward around the dog’s bed after a particularly harrowing encounter with a demon. “No bloody hellspawn is messing with this little guy,” he muttered, lighting a cigarette.

- Watching you with Mr. Pickles brought out a rare softness in John. He’d sit back, cigarette in hand, and watch as you cuddled the dog, a faint smile ghosting his lips. “You’re too good for the likes of me, love,” he said quietly one night, his voice tinged with both reverence and regret.

- John had a knack for turning Mr. Pickles into an unwitting accomplice in his schemes. Whether it was using the dog as a distraction during a con or charming his way out of trouble by pointing to the innocent fluff ball, John always managed to keep things interesting. “He’s got potential,” John said with a wink, ruffling the dog’s fur.

Roy Harper aka. Arsenal

- Roy’s first reaction to Mr. Pickles was pure delight. “You’ve got a dog? And he’s this tiny?” he exclaimed, scooping the fluffy pup into his arms. Mr. Pickles responded by licking his face enthusiastically, cementing their instant bond.

- The two of them quickly became partners in crime. Roy loved teaching Mr. Pickles silly tricks, like how to “high five” or roll over dramatically. “He’s got flair, just like me,” Roy joked, beaming as the dog performed his latest trick for you.

- Roy had a playful rivalry with Mr. Pickles when it came to your attention. “Oh sure, cuddle him first,” he teased, feigning jealousy as the dog climbed into your lap. But his grin always gave away how much he adored seeing you happy.

- Walks with Roy and Mr. Pickles were always an adventure. Roy would let the dog explore to his heart’s content, encouraging him to chase leaves or investigate interesting smells. “You’ve got to let him live a little,” he said, grinning as Mr. Pickles barked at a particularly stubborn twig.

- Despite his playful demeanor, Roy had a deep appreciation for the way Mr. Pickles brought joy to your life. “You deserve all the happiness in the world,” he said one night, his voice unusually serious as he watched you cuddle the dog. “And if this little guy makes you smile, then he’s alright by me.”

Koriand’r aka. Starfire

- Kori was utterly enchanted by Mr. Pickles the moment she saw him. “Such a precious creature!” she exclaimed, scooping the dog into her arms and nuzzling him with unabashed affection. Mr. Pickles responded by wagging his tail furiously, clearly won over by her warmth.

- Kori treated Mr. Pickles like royalty, often referring to him as “the noble guardian of our home.” She’d adorn him with tiny accessories, like a golden bow or a small cape, much to your amusement. “He is most regal,” she declared, beaming as the dog strutted around proudly.

- Walks with Kori and Mr. Pickles were filled with wonder. Kori loved introducing the dog to new sights and experiences, marveling at his reactions. “He approaches the world with such curiosity,” she said, her eyes sparkling. “It is a quality I admire greatly.”

- Kori adored seeing you with Mr. Pickles, often commenting on how much love you brought into both of their lives. “You have a way of making everything brighter,” she said one day, her voice soft as she watched you play with the dog. “It is a gift, and I treasure it.”

- Though she was gentle by nature, Kori became fiercely protective of Mr. Pickles when necessary. She once used her starbolts to scare off a stray dog that was bothering him. “No one will harm our little friend,” she said firmly, cradling Mr. Pickles in her arms as you smiled at her protective streak.

Kara Zor-El aka. Supergirl

- Kara’s first meeting with Mr. Pickles was a whirlwind of squeals and excitement. “Oh my Rao, he’s so tiny and fluffy!” she exclaimed, gently scooping the little dog into her arms. Mr. Pickles, always eager to make friends, licked her cheek, prompting a delighted laugh from the Kryptonian.

- Kara adored how Mr. Pickles’ unassuming nature brought her a sense of normalcy. Despite her superhuman powers, she’d lie on the floor, letting the dog climb over her, tugging playfully at her hair. “You know, you’re one of the few who can keep up with me,” she teased, booping his nose.

- Walks with Kara and Mr. Pickles were something of a spectacle. Kara, determined to give the pup the best adventures, would sometimes gently float above the ground, holding Mr. Pickles in her arms as they explored treetops and open fields. “He deserves to see the world from above,” she said, her eyes shining with joy.

- Kara often marveled at the way you cared for Mr. Pickles, finding your bond with the little dog heartwarming. “You’re such a good mom to him,” she said one night, watching as you tucked Mr. Pickles into his tiny bed. “It makes me love you even more.”

- When trouble arose, Kara’s protective instincts extended to Mr. Pickles. Once, during a fight with a rogue alien, she paused mid-battle to make sure the dog was safely out of harm’s way. “You’re not laying a finger on him,” she growled, her eyes glowing red with determination.

Slade Wilson aka. Deathstroke

- Slade was initially unimpressed by Mr. Pickles. “That’s not a dog,” he grumbled, arms crossed as the tiny fluff ball barked up at him. But when Mr. Pickles fearlessly climbed onto Slade’s boot, demanding attention, Slade couldn’t help but chuckle. “Alright, maybe he’s got some guts.”

- Slade’s relationship with Mr. Pickles was unexpectedly tender. Late at night, when he thought no one was watching, you’d catch him scratching the dog’s ears or letting Mr. Pickles nap on his lap. “He’s quieter than I expected,” Slade muttered defensively when you teased him about it.

- Mr. Pickles had a knack for softening Slade’s rough edges. The sight of the hardened mercenary kneeling to refill the dog’s water bowl or throwing a ball across the yard was enough to make your heart swell. “Don’t get used to it,” he warned, though the small smile on his lips betrayed his affection.

- Slade admired your patience with Mr. Pickles, often remarking on how you handled the dog’s occasional mischief. “You’ve got the kind of patience I don’t,” he said one day, his voice low. “It’s one of the reasons I can’t stay away from you.”

- Despite his gruff demeanor, Slade would go to great lengths to protect Mr. Pickles. When the dog wandered too close to one of his dangerous weapons, Slade immediately scooped him up, cradling him protectively. “You’re lucky I like you, fluff ball,” he muttered, carrying him back to safety.

Kent Nelson aka. Doctor Fate

- Kent found Mr. Pickles endlessly amusing. “An extraordinary creature in his own right,” he mused, watching as the dog chased his own tail. Mr. Pickles seemed equally intrigued by Kent’s golden helmet, often barking at it from a safe distance.

- Kent’s mystical abilities became a source of entertainment for Mr. Pickles. He’d conjure small, glowing orbs for the dog to chase or create harmless illusions that made Mr. Pickles bark with delight. “Even the smallest beings deserve a touch of magic,” Kent said, smiling as the dog pounced on a shimmering butterfly.

- Despite his lofty demeanor, Kent had a soft spot for Mr. Pickles. You’d often find the two of them sitting together in quiet companionship, Kent absentmindedly stroking the dog’s fur while lost in thought. “He has a calming presence,” Kent admitted, glancing at you. “Much like you.”

- Kent marveled at the way you cared for Mr. Pickles, often likening your nurturing nature to the compassion of the gods. “You bring light to even the smallest lives,” he said one evening, his voice reverent. “It’s a gift I will never tire of witnessing.”

- When danger threatened, Kent would spare no effort in ensuring Mr. Pickles’ safety. He once cast a protective ward around the dog during a battle, ensuring no harm would come to him. “No harm shall befall what you love,” he promised, his voice steady with resolve.

Rachel Roth aka. Raven

- Rachel was initially indifferent to Mr. Pickles. “He’s… small,” she said, raising an eyebrow as the dog sniffed at her boots. But when Mr. Pickles nuzzled her hand, she couldn’t help but let a small smile escape. “Alright, maybe he’s not so bad.”

- Rachel’s quiet nature seemed to resonate with Mr. Pickles. The dog often curled up beside her as she read, his presence a comforting weight against her side. “He’s surprisingly peaceful,” she admitted one day, scratching behind his ears.

- Watching you with Mr. Pickles brought a rare softness to Rachel’s expression. “You have so much love to give,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “It’s one of the things I admire most about you.”

- Rachel occasionally used her powers to entertain Mr. Pickles, creating small shadows for him to chase or levitating his favorite toy just out of reach. “He’s surprisingly persistent,” she noted, a hint of amusement in her tone as the dog barked at the floating object.

- Despite her dark and brooding nature, Rachel became fiercely protective of Mr. Pickles. When a magical threat loomed, she enveloped the dog in a shimmering shield of energy, her voice steady as she assured you, “Nothing will harm him. I promise.”

Zatanna Zatara aka. Zatanna

- Zatanna fell in love with Mr. Pickles at first sight. “He’s absolutely enchanting!” she exclaimed, picking up the fluffy pup and twirling him around. Mr. Pickles responded with a delighted yip, instantly smitten with her playful energy.

- Zatanna’s magic became a source of endless amusement for Mr. Pickles. She’d conjure floating treats or make his toys dance, her laughter filling the room as the dog barked and chased after the enchanted objects. “He’s a natural performer,” she said, winking at you.

- Zatanna loved how Mr. Pickles brought out your nurturing side. She often watched with admiration as you fussed over the dog, her heart swelling with affection. “You’re incredible,” she said one evening, resting her head on your shoulder as you brushed Mr. Pickles’ fur.

- Walks with Zatanna and Mr. Pickles were always magical. She’d enchant the path ahead, creating shimmering lights and gentle breezes that made the experience feel otherworldly. “He deserves a little magic in his life,” she said, smiling as Mr. Pickles pranced happily beside her.

- When danger threatened, Zatanna’s protective instincts kicked in. She once cast a powerful barrier around Mr. Pickles during a confrontation, her voice firm as she uttered the spell. “Nothing will harm our little star,” she vowed, her gaze fierce yet tender.

[aangelinakii]

WALLY WEST BOYFRIEND TEXTS...

— but the catch is, hal jordan's your dad !!!!!

note : thank you for requesting !!! i hope this is what you were hoping for :))

note 2 : the ask glitched out and wouldn't let me actually answer it so idk it just disappeared and yeah whoever requested rhis i hope u like it 💀💀💀

[httpsobi]

YOU...YOU CAN DO THAT? “a green lantern x team"

WARNINGS/TAGS + sfw, they/them (gender neutral) reader addressed as green lantern (the creative streak continues), no beta we die like jason todd, canon-typical violence (not heavily detailed).

A/N + for @noom147 , thank you for your request! i lost the ask (AGAIN) because i can't post from where i am rn and tried to be smart about it (AGAINN) so yeah. i hope you enjoy it despite the fact that it was written at the ass crack of dawn and i was DEFINITELY not falling asleep ❤️. anyways enough yapping, ENJOYYYYY.

REQUEST + "TBA"

ROB & KF What's worse than one idiot walking into the headquarters of a cult that's known for offering human sacrifices to their weird leader?

Two idiots walking into the headquarters of a cult that's known for offering human sacrifices to their weird leader.

And for turning his/her/their back on the two idiots for just 10 seconds- Green Lantern might just be the biggest idiot of all.

He/she/they are sprinting down the dingy halls of the old temple, deaf to all other sounds other than the weird speech some old guy is giving (and their raging heartbeat).

The speech started off as nothing more than a faint murmur, like your next-door neighbour’s TV that you can just make out; but as he/she/they dash towards the room at the end of the hall (shoving their way through whatever random members straggle along the halls) it's getting louder and louder.

Behind the closed door, an undercover Robin and Kid Flash are trapped inside a glass box (that looks nothing short of a Jigsaw trap), staring at the old man who’s back is turned to them.

"But do not fret." The man sighs wistfully, turning on his heels to approach the glass box currently holding Robin and Kid Flash. He takes a second to take them in, before he’s turning to the console on his right and pressing a button.

With a soft click, water starts rushing up from the cracks of the floor under their feet.

"Your sacrifice will not be in vain."

Yet before Robin and Kid Flash can even start to panic, the doors are swinging open, and a (extremely dishevelled) undercover Green Lantern is marching towards the cultists with a glowing bat in their hands.

The cultist turns around, nearly jumping out of his skin at the teenager with the glowing bat being swung over his/her/their shoulder.

"How did you-!"

Thunk!

The pair blink at the heaving Green Lantern.

He/she/they are too busy staring down at the unconscious man to make sure he stays down, all while catching his/her/their breath. The energy used to construct the bat slowly starts to disintegrate in his/her/their hands.

KF whistles, and that seems to get him/her/them out of his/her/their trance and moving up to the console to press a couple buttons.

A couple clicks later, and the water starts draining itself, and the ceiling of the box lifts open, and that's all it takes for Green Lantern to hunch over the console to continue catching his/her/their breath.

"Now we know if we ever need a batter-" Robin starts.

"Shut the fuck up." He/she/they wheeze, glaring at the two boys who've finally made their way out the box.

"I... have never... in my life... ever ran that fast... all... because of you... idiots."

Kid Flash blinks at them. "...At least you have a great swing."

"Shut it."

AQ, MG & SUP "M'gann!"

Green Lantern can hear Superboy's voice echo across the warehouse, and the worry in his call is enough to send him/her/them flying towards them, noting the heat radiating from their side of the warehouse as he/she/they approach.

"Is she okay?" Green Lantern yells, dropping down from the air to meet them.

Miss Martian's out cold in Superboy's arms, sweat lining her brow and she's frowning even in her unconscious state. Aqualad's not doing much better either, sat against the wall and his breathing's laboured as he looks up at him/her/them with an unfocused look.

"Miss Martian and I are at our limits- the heat is far too much for us." He mutters as Green Lantern's pulling him to his feet.

"I can't blame you- why is it so hot here anyway?"

There's a sudden sound of metal, and the two standing members are whipping around to stare at a dishevelled, angry mobster who's staring them down with a wide grin.

In his hands, is possible the largest flamethrower he/she/they have ever seen.

"That'll do it."

He's got them cornered, and with one member down and their leader following suit, there's not much they can do.

"I got this." Superboy growls, about to set Miss Martian down before Green Lantern's taking a step away from the group and towards the mobster.

"Screw that- get behind me!"

Green Lantern is bracing him/her/themselves, his/her/their right fist extended and his/her/their left hand at their wrist to support his/her/their arm up as the crazed gangster cocks the oversized flamethrower onto his hip.

He/she/they can see the coil in the barrel of the flamethrower burn a bright orange just before-

...

There's a horrible smell of burnt metal and the sudden silence in the warehouse, and by the large cloud of blackened smoke, the man drops his weapon with a satisfied hum.

But just as he's about to turn around, the smoke clears, and his smile drops.

A green bubble surrounds the four teens, and he can just make out Green Lantern's smirk past the blinding glow of his/her/their ring.

ART

"Crap." Artemis mumbles to herself, looking over her shoulder to her suddenly empty quiver.

Damn-it, she could've sworn she still had at least 5 more left-

She yelps as a large crystal shard lands a hair past her ear, and she's frantically ducking down and crawling towards a nearby truck.

Reaching a hand to her in-ear, she's finds herself with no choice but to call for help.

"I need-!"

Artemis finds herself blinking at Green Lantern, who's staring back at her from where he/she/they are floating in the air.

"What are you doing here?" She asks.

"Was passing through the area when I heard reports of Icicle Jr attacking. Figured I'd check it out." Green Lantern shrugs. "Need help?"

"Something like that." She sighs. "I'm out of arrows."

Green Lantern tilts his/her/their head at her.

"You're out? Already?"

"Yeah." Artemis grumbles from where she's crouched, "I could've sworn I had more-"

"Don't worry, I got this." Green Lantern smiles brightly, offering her a thumbs up.

...

"Don't tell me you chickened out already!" Icicle Jr. laughs, making his way down the now empty street. "I was just starting to have fun."

"Hey you!"

Icicle Jr whips around, immediately throwing out a shard that Green Lantern blocks easily with an easy wall construct. As he/she/they drop the construct and lets the ice crash to the floor, the two stare each other down for a moment.

"Who the hell are you?" The criminal frowns, tilting his head at the flying teen. "Ain't never seen you 'round here before. Didn't realise even the Lanterns have a sidekick."

He/she/they smile at him, but it's not the cheery, light-hearted smile that Artemis got.

No, it's a smile that has her shivering slightly from where she's hiding- the customer service smile that a cashier gives when they're a second away from jumping across the counter and bash someone's head in.

Artemis is only proving right when his/her/their ring starts to glow, and she watches as what looks like a literal (not actually- it's still made from energy) bazooka assembles in his/her/their hands. Its weight is heavy, evident by the fact that they drop slightly in the air as they place it over their shoulder, and its clear even Icicle Jr. is unsettled.

"Because they don't have a sidekick." He/she/they explain with that creepy smile still painted on their face.

"I'm just the cool one."

all work n' writing is work of @httpsobi. i ask you please do not copy, rewrite, translate or post on other platforms without my consent.

[eveysnotebook]

the DC boys and love languages

how they show their love for someone.

Included: dick, tim, jason, hal, wally, roy, barry

trying to write for more characters so I added my favorites!

Dick: quality time and touch.

Dick will do everything in his power to be around you most if not all of the day. He loves just sitting in silence with you, it’s never awkward! He loves it even more if you’re sitting in silence holding hands.

Any and every time you’re walking around in public, he will be holding your hand. He loves to take hold of your hand and swing your arms.

And at night, when you sleep together, he is so clingy. Just an absolute cuddle bug and will not let you go.

Tim: acts of service and gift giving.

Tim notices everything about you. And when he gets your routine and habits memorized, he will try to help you complete them easier. Whether that be making the bed for you, or simply making dinner he will always try to do something nice for you every day.

Whenever he goes out shopping and spies something that reminds him of you, he will most likely get it. Your house gets over cluttered with little things Tim has gotten you over the years.

He’s a really good gift giver too. whether it’s somthing you’ve been wanting for a while or something you didn’t even know you wanted, he’s gotten it for you.

Jason: quality time and words of affirmation.

Jason loves spending time with you and he gets very sad when he hasn’t seen in you in more than a day. He calls you a lot too. Your used to picking up your phone and seeing 13 missed calls from him, just for him to say “hi, I miss you”

He really loves words of affirmation because when you tell him something nice, he gets and happy and blushing so he tries to make you feel that way too.

He tries to do it smoothly, randomly walking by and saying “oh, your hair looks nice by the way” once you smile, he’s celebrating.

Hal: physical touch and acts of service

Hal loves touching you. He loves intertwining fingers, resting heads on shoulders and hugging. He doesn’t care when or where, he just adores touching you.

He also tries his best to be helpful and do small chores or things for you. He really likes it when you do tiny tasks for him, so he’ll do some in return. He knows that you get lonely when he’s away on long missions, so he tries to make up for it by catching up on chores and such. If theres ever something you’ve been worrying about, Hal will get it done for you and act as if it’s no big deal when you thank him.

Wally: quality time and physical touch

Wally loves being near you. He loves just sitting next to you and staring at you as you read or scroll on your phone.

Whenever you two are on public transport, like a bus or subway, he will be holding onto your waist, as you rest your head on his shoulder.

He really likes squeezing you’re face before kissing you, he thinks you look adorable and he loves the smile and laugh it brings.

Barry: acts of service and physical touch

Barry gets busy a lot. He also forgets a lot. Whenever he notices that you have done something for him, whether it be a small task or not, he feels so lucky. He tries his best to repay you for your act of kindness by doing something small for you in return.

You often return home after late nights to see dinner made and the laundry put away.

He also loves holding you, but he’s very observant of your boundaries and whether or not you’re in the mood for hugs. If you are, then he’ll be glued to your side all day, and if not that’s okay too! He’s okay with simply sitting on the same couch, smiling as he watches you do something mundane.

Roy: words of affirmation and acts of service

Call this boy anything sweet and he’s in love. He lives for your kind words and praise, even if he hides it. He tries to say something nice about you every time he sees you. He will absolutely praise you a lot, as he likes praise himself.

He also enjoys doing small things for you. Need something fixed? Ask Roy, he will be happy to help. It’s usually repairing things, or making small things for you he does, he always hopes it means alot to you.

this took so long to make lmao!

I might do things like this more but separate posts, so like batboys in one and other people in another!

I really hope you like it, I have never written for Roy and Wally before.