firefighter!Jason Todd who first met you when you had inexplicably set fire to a toast (don't ask) and set off the fire alarm, activating a building-wide evacuation process;
firefighter!Jason Todd who was the one to walk into your apartment and extinguish the small fire;
firefighter!Jason Todd who then gave you the talk about kitchen safety and how to extinguish different types of fires;
firefighter!Jason Todd who received a visit from you the next day at the station. You came with a box of cookies (store bought, because the memory of the fire is still too fresh in your mind for you to attempt any cooking yourself) and thanked him for his service. It definitely wasn't all an excuse to see the hot firefighter again and slip him a note with your phone number;
firefighter!Jason Todd who later got teased by the whole station, but he couldn't care less. Not when he had just secured himself a date with you;
firefighter!Jason Todd who insists that his redundancy to let you near the stove once you start living together has nothing to do with how the two of you first met;
firefighter!Jason Todd who's lying;
firefighter!Jason Todd who looks so hot in uniform, making you ache with want whenever he has to leave for one of his long shifts;
firefighter!Jason Todd who pretends not to be flattered when you buy multiple copies of the calendar the station has made for charity. What can you say? The pictures of your shirtless boyfriend are worth the money;
firefighter!Jason Todd who doesn't get it. Why do you need the calendar when you have the real thing at home?
firefighter!Jason Todd who secretly loves when you stop by at the station to bring him the lunch box he has so conveniently forgotten at home that morning;
firefighter!Jason Todd who, when asked by his colleagues when he'll put a ring on your finger, has to refrain himself from telling them that he has already bought one.
A/N: I wrote this in a whim so it's probably really shitty, but I can't get the thought of firefighter!jason out of my head.
Tags !: fem! reader x jason todd, eating out, piv, unprotected, wrap it b4 u tap it!
Jason Todd and the way he touches your thighs while eating you out. He said he wouldn't take long and it's just prep until you find yourself pined by his hands hold onto the back of your knees that are pressed up your boobs.
His tongue sucking, prodding and licking you. Your slick is running down his chin as you just hear the nasty sounds coming from your lower half. Jason's hips keep grinding into the mattress causing it to squeak.
His boxers are getting sticky the bedsheets bellow him starting to form a little wet patch. You felt your pussy start to spasm and a weird sensation. You squirted and came on his face. He pulled away, his face drenched and licking his lips.
"Do that again f'me...? Please baby..." Jason hurried to peel off his boxers bringing you into a kiss purely full of tongue and teeth.
"C'mon baby put your legs up f'me..." Jason's voice was sooo groggy. It was so fucking sexy you just couldn't help but do what he told you.
"That's it..." He started pushing his tip in slowly and bottomed out.
"Oh my gosh... Jay... s' too big...!" You moaned out. He started moving his hips repeatedly slamming into your ass. Your nails running down his back. Jason's face was buried in your shoulder kissing you.
"Fuck you feel too good..." He moaned. His hips moving faster as he brought you into a kiss that was softer than the other.
"Please baby... cum on my cock... please..." You nodded over and over again jaw going slack as you threw your head back. Then he hit that spot and you just started crying out of sheer pleasure, his hips tightened up and gently grabbed your face moaning into the kiss as his tongue entered your mouth.
When he pulled out a white ring was formed around his cock, and the view he was presented was your sweet pussy in full display for him. Just so full of him he almost was about to start another round until he realized you were tired.
He ended up leaving an hour or two after to go patrol you didn't really count as he ran you a bath and washed your hair gently. His hands running through your scalp nicely. You fell asleep in a a hoodie of his.
Later...
Jason decided to take a well earned shower at the end of his patrol at the batcave. Either way he had to go to a debrief after so it was like he had a choice. He ended up coming out in some sweats and a tank only for Tim to gag and Damian give him a side eye. Steph and Duke whispered to each other giggling as Cass smirked at him.
"Damn how busy were you before you came here Jason?" Steph snickered only for Jason to roll his eyes.
Dick patted him on the back, trying to hide his laughter, "Jay, you might wanna check your back, but hey good job buddy!" He said in between wheezes.
"The fuck are you on about dick hea- he looked at his back in the reflection of one of the many monitors of the bat computer.
"You're all immature!" His cheeks were getting redder as the batfam broke into laughter.
Pairing: Jason Todd x reader, repost from old blog, art: @/ciricearts
Jason Todd has a staring problem.
The muse of his gaze?
You.
It's not necessarily only when you are glammed up to go out or suited up for work; rather, it's the most when you are at home.
Whether it was listening to you yap about some drama at work or when you hum to yourself while painting your nails. Whether it was when you cuddled up on his chest while watching a horror movie like he was the only anchor tethering you to the couch, or when you would scowl at him for something stupid he did. Whether it was brushing your teeth next to each other, two sleepy faces visible on the small circular mirror perched on the wall, or when he could see your eyes flutter close, legs intertwined with his, beneath the covers.
Like even right now , when you just looked ridiculous — your hair slicked back with a red headband, a white soft facemask covering every inch of your face along with pink under-eye masks yet Jason looked at you like you were the most precious thing to exist. Like that of something he thought he never could have, never deserved in this life.
Jason had seen such moments play out in front of him — in movies, TV shows, read them in books, listened to them in songs, and even seen them painted, hung up on the walls of art galleries. But he never thought he would ever experience such mundane moments — filled with nothing but warmth and love.
jason todd cannot let you know how badly he's been crushing on you.
anyone could've guessed it by how he treats you. jason was naturally observant, but when it came to you, there was a difference. he'd steady you at the waist whenever you stumbled over your feet, brushed the hair out of your face when the wind was much too strong, wouldn't complain about your whining when something didn't go your way.
dick had noticed way too early: when commotions rose, he'd be at your side, massaging your shoulders and leading you with a hand at the back of your neck -- like right now, where he stood before you to help tie your sneakers.
"i can tie my shoes myself," you scold, yet the glare jason shoots at you, with the dirty bottom of your shoe rubbing against the knee of his pants, is enough to quiet you down. he's fumbling the strings, big fingers making it difficult to deal with the smaller material.
he finishes quick enough, pausing to look up at your face, and suddenly he feels like a love-struck fool. "you just did your nails," he points out, "no way was i about to let you ruin them when they're pretty." you swallow a lump in your throat, the simplest recognition from his part making your stomach feel in twists.
dick clears his throat, a brow raised.
"tell me, again, about how you guys are not a couple?"
"he's just being friendly," you roll your eyes, attempting to hide the flush that forms on your face once jason squeezes your ankle and pushes your shoe away to stand up.
"friendly? the man looks out for you like no one else." you scoff at the absurdity of his accusation. in reality, it was stupid how neither of you had realised it yet. at your side, with his 6'1 build, jason carried your bag over his shoulder, makeup swatches along his hand, and an embarrassing lip stain that never came off when you tested it on him. anyone would think he was doing the service of a tortured boyfriend brought to the makeup counter by his girl.
you glance at each other and then at dick, trying to hold back that common awkward laughter that bubbled its way up whenever someone asked what you both were because, truly, what were you if not a confused pair of regular friends with regular habits that totally never regularly looked at one another like you'd yearn to dig a home deeply between each other's ribs?
jason sniffles, placing his hand over your shoulder. his nose was red from allergies, something about dust in the air being his worst enemy. "yeah, richard, way to make it weird." his tone holds a silent edge, hinting to back off. dick knows it all too well. jason's been pining for so long that he doesn't notice how badly you'd wish for him too.
Jason reading in the living room while you cook dinner. Jason cleaning his guns at his desk while you game at yours. Jason researching while you craft. Jason complaining about whatever Bruce said on patrol while you bake. Jason tidying the living room and organizing the bookshelves while you clean the kitchen. Just domestic life with Jason, something he never thought he would get a chance to have.
mmm domestic jason todd 🤤
Jason who insisted living with you wouldn’t change his loner personality, who didn’t expect the way his eyes snap open the moment you get up to drink some water in the middle of the night, bed too cold and empty without you.
Jason who said it would all stay the same, you’d just be like roommates. But then one day, tired from patrol and form arguing with Bruce, mistakenly uses your shampoo and body wash instead of his. It becomes a habit to do so when his day has been long, a way to feel you extra close. He gets cranky if you run out before he can use it.
Jason who defended his need for alone time and how you’d have to agree on a day of the week to do “alone activities”. But now he’s dragging you up from the couch and to the balcony with him whenever he wants a smoke, it’s fine you can take his hoodie or bring the blanket from inside, he just wants to keep listening to you talking about your day while he gets his nicotine.
Jason Todd who didn’t want to be open to the idea of domesticity, because it would imply building a home with someone, and he’d lost enough of those to risk adding a new one to the list. Jason Todd who still can’t avoid falling into that familiar rhythm with you —who finds himself tidying things by your logic instead of his, folding your shirts along his pants and looking your favourite snacks first on his quick grocery run— and who finally admits that the connection he’d never thought he’d have is exactly what he was looking for.
he's just lying there, mouth open, eyes so wide they look glassy. not moving. not breathing right. his hands hover over your hips like he's scared to touch you.
you're the hottest thing he's ever seen and he's afraid he would burn if he touch you.
you roll your hips down slow, and the only sound in the room is his shaky little exhale and your voice. he's so quiet. no dirty talk, no growling. just these soft, punched out moans every time you sink onto him.
"you—ahh—okay baby?" you ask.
he nods all dumb, lips parted, eyes locked on where your bodies meet, then back up to your tits and face. his mouth moves but nothing comes out. then you clench around him, just a little, and his whole body jerks. his eyes roll back and he's cumming with this broken, high pitched whimper.
you're just too beautiful and he's too in love to hold it.
"ughh fuck—" he gasps, face red, hands finally gripping your waist. "pretty—y-you're so pretty—so p-pretty"
he's trying. he really is.
so just smile down at him and run your fingers through his hair. tell him he did good. he'll blink up at you all teary, still hard somehow, and whisper that he loves you.
꒰ content ꒱ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ you sneak into the library for a quickie but get distracted by the books . . . jason todd x fem!reader, they makeout, suggestive, slice of life, reader’s wearing a sundress
inspired by this
Jason follows you around the library, his callused hand in yours. Amusement crinkles the corners of his eyes when he sees you scanning the shelves, looking for the perfect place for a quick fuck—your words, not his.
Jason had just given you a "you serious right now?" look and let you tug him around like a dog on a leash.
But even before that, he knew. His eyes had trailed over your form, over your short sundress, the one that had his head spinning since the moment he saw you in it. Convenient. It was a frilly thing that kept blowing up in the wind. You'd laughed. He cursed your carefree nature and kept the bottom of your skirt down.
He'd fight the wind and anyone who dared to look. And the sly look you gave him told him you damn well knew that too.
"Hurry." You tug him into a slightly secluded area between bookshelves. He inhales the scent of books, instantly feeling his muscles relax.
"Jason, focus," you complain, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt and tugging him down until his breath hovers over your lips.
His eyes find yours.
You smile. "It'll be quick."
He scoffs, but his lips curl up too. "Nothing's ever quick with you," he says, and he means it. Jason likes to savor you, worship you like no man ever has because you're his. It pains him to have to rush.
But well... how can he ever deny those pretty eyes you always weaponize?
"Fine, you win."
"I barely even tried."
"It's your eyes," he admits.
He starts gently, pushing you against the shelf—the classics section, his mind briefly notices before you crash your lips against his.
This kiss is messy and fast, your hands wandering down to palm him through his pants. He hisses, his hand sliding beneath your dress and up your ass.
He pauses, pulling back, his pupils blown. "Princess, you're not wearing anything—"
"Obviously." You roll your eyes and pull him back by his belt. "Now come on," you say impatiently.
"Fucking menace," he mutters, then presses hot kisses to the curve of your neck. For a moment, his eyes open, and they land on a book next to your head.
His body stills.
"Jason?"
He hums, his hands moving back to your waist.
"Jayyyyy." You drag his name out in hopes he'll pay attention to you.
"Gimme a sec, baby." He presses a kiss to your forehead before pulling the book from the shelf.
Pouting, you bury your face in his chest. His free hand tangles in your hair, keeping you close.
His other hand turns the book over as he reads the back.
"What book?" you ask, mumbling, accepting that you're not getting anything until you're both home.
"East of Eden."
"Sounds boring," you reply, but you perk up to look it over with him.
"'S’not. We can read it together."
You grimace. The two of you have the complete opposite taste in books.
"Sure, babe. Whatever you want…"
"That's what I thought," he says, already walking toward the desk with the book tucked under his arm. This time he’s dragging you away.
꒰ content ꒱ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ wally west x fem!reader, slice of life
You're sitting in one of those circular booths. You preferred it because it keeps you close to Wally. Your head resting on his shoulder, his hand on your thigh, thumb moving in slow circles.
Your boyfriend rattles off his order—a huge one that has the waiter scribbling frantically while giving Wally concerned glances. You almost feel bad for what you’re about to do. Almost.
After what feels like forever, the waiter turns to you. You lift your head. "And for you?"
"Um…I'll have a burger and…" Slowly, you turn toward Wally. "Hey, baby, can I get extra fries and a Diet Coke?"
Wally does a double-take, his green eyes sparkling with worry as he stares at you. His lips curve downward, making you want to kiss him until he smiles.
"…You can get whatever you want?"
"Okay, thank you," you say cheerfully. Wally's hand on your thigh stills. Turning back to the waiter, you add, "I’ll have two fries on the side and a Diet Coke, please."
The waiter furrows his brows and nods. "Right…It’ll be out soon." He lingers for a brief second, as if unsure whether he should leave you with Wally.
Once the waiter is out of earshot, Wally takes your hand nervously. A small crease forms between his brows as he looks at you properly.
"What's going on?" he asks quietly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. His attentiveness warms your heart.
You press your lips together, fighting a smile. "Nothing, I was just asking if I could order more."
His face falls, and you immediately soften. Wrapping your arms around his bicep, you mutter, "It was a joke. Stop looking at me like that. I just wanted to see how you’d react."
He stares at you, shoulders dropping, and forehead smoothing over.
"You're a cruel woman, y’know that? How else did you think I’d react, baby? Asking me for permission…You want extra fries? You get extra fries. You want to burn the city down? You burn—"
He stops, thinking for a moment. "Okay…don’t do that, please. I’d have a lot of paperwork to deal with."
"Aww, I was looking forward to that."
"Baby, what did I just say about not needing my permission?" he scolds lightly.
"You're making this way more complicated than it needs to be," you tease.
The bed groaned underneath the two of you as Wally tried to wiggle away from you.
You hissed, eyes blazing with annoyance. “Wally, don’t you fucking dare—”
“We’ve been sitting here for an hour, a whole hour, babe,” he whined like this whole thing wasn’t his idea.
He’d seen you doing your nails, the funky vibrant ones you always did, and begged you to do his own.
“It takes time and patience.” You rolled your eyes. You knew that was something he severely lacked. Really, it was your own fault for falling for his pretty green eyes asking you to do his nails with a flash theme.
Your grip on the magnet tightened in concentration, the shimmer shifted as the magnet hovered over his nail. For a moment he was placated by how you made the polish move with a magnet.
“This is some high level sorcery shit,” he said, squinting down.
“It’s science,” you replied dryly, “aren’t you supposed to be a genius.”
“Only when it’s life or death.”
“Even then you falter,” You replied.
“‘Falter’ she says. Babe, the fastest man alive doesn’t falter. That’s like…” he paused to find a good example.
“Superman bleeding out from a regular bullet.”
You frowned and put his hand under the uv lamp to harden the polish.
“Do you even understand the things you say?” You asked flatly.
“Most of the time,” he grinned, pulling out his hand from under the lamp to inspect his red cat eye nails.
“I’m not done.” You pulled his hand back, and took out a yellow polish with a tiny brush for details.
He groaned and flopped down onto the bed, causing you to also go down with him since you were gripping his hand.
The idiot probably did that on purpose.
“I still have to add the lightning symbol!”
“Fine…I better have the coolest nails in superhero history after this.” He reluctantly sat up with you.
“I'm sure Batman will be seething with jealousy.” You rolled your eyes, dipping the brush into the bottle.
His body shook with laughter at the thought and you silenced him with a warning glare.
“Buzzkill,” he mumbled petulantly.
You bite your lip from smiling and focus on not messing up. You could smell his cologne from how close he was leaning— a citrusy, fresh scent.
Once you finished drawing on the symbol on each nail, you zipped up all your supplies into their respective bags. Wally examined the sparkly nails under the illuminated light.
“Fuck yeah, this is sick.” He kissed you gently and pulled back.
“You’re the best,” he added.
You grinned. “obviously.”
He stood up and gave you another kiss on your cheek.
“I'll be back, babe.”
“leaving me already?” You raised a brow at his words.
“Gotta show Dick my new nails!”
You sat there, your hair blowing back as he whizzed out the door. You snorted and had the distinct feeling you would end up doing Nightwing-themed nails as well.
꒰ content ꒱ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ dick grayson x wife!reader, slice of life, suggestive
The Gotham Times was buzzing with activity when news of Bruce Wayne’s eldest son’s wedding came out.
Reporters had scrambled to find clues they had previously missed, searching every nook and cranny of Dick Grayson's life to see how they could miss something like this.
In the end, they came across nothing. Bruce Wayne was nothing if not efficient at silencing gossiping vultures. In various legal ways, of course.
However, the quiet couldn't be contained forever in Gotham. Once people found out who exactly you were, background checks and digging extensively through your life became inevitable.
As did the city’s very loud use of freedom of speech.
Best to never open up a social media app, apparently people were mourning their very unrealistic chances with Gotham’s golden boy.
The constant sexual comments about your man did bother you. There were blogs dedicated to his ass.
You peered at your phone, looking through the comments. Your wedding ring glinted under the light that flowed in from the windows.
Dick was ‘attempting’ to cook while you sat on the counter bitterly muttering about the audacity of some folks.
“I just moaned out loud in the break room..?” You read one of the comments. Dick snorted and flipped a pancake that landed on the counter.
He eyed you, grateful for your distraction, and slid the pancake back onto the pan.
“I don’t know why you even bother with reading all that,” he replied and put the spatula down so he could move between your legs and kiss your forehead, smiling down at you softly.
His dark locks were mussed from sleep and he was clad in nothing but boxers.
“Hmm,” you hummed, lips tugging up at his touch.
“Come on, babe,” Dick whined as his hand shot out to try and pry your phone away.
“Wait no–listen to this one–” you turned and held your phone farther from him.
“Breeding kink? Activated.”
“You don’t even have a breeding kink.” You added, eyes narrowing at the username. You went to check the profile like an obsessed freak.
He grinned slyly, hands moving to your hips.
“I mean if your into that–”
“Not me ovulating on command,” You continued to read the comments while he looked at you with his puppy dog eyes and a pout on his face.
His arms circled your waist as he bent down to rest his head on your chest. You had to hold your phone higher.
“Why did my chair turn into a slip-and-slide,” you pressed your lips together. You could admit some of these were funny and clever.
Dick’s arms tightened around you impatiently.
“Are you done?” he mumbled into your chest, pressing kisses onto your collarbone to make you forget about anything other than him.
“Yeah, I’ll stop when the pancakes are done,” You said quickly as you scrolled through the comments with a reluctant grin.
Dick tensed, and if you were paying attention you’d know why. He slowly lifted his head and glanced at the pancakes, which were now smoking–no doubt ruined.
“Uh…. yeah no, take your time, honey.” He slipped away from you to turn the gas off. He looked around frazzled and grabbed a rag to blow the smoke away.
You didn't lift your head, far too absorbed in the comments to be considered normal.
“Not me getting hard at the club over this.” You read slowly with furrowed brows.
You lifted your head to tell him how much you despised the internet. Instead you found your husband fanning the smoke alarm with a dish towel.
꒰ content ꒱ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ dad!jason todd x mom!reader, slice of life, established relationship, domestic fluff, girl dad!jason
1.5k follower event
“Jay, stay still,” you mumble, shifting slightly where you’re sitting on his lap. One of your hands steadies his, the other carefully moves the henna cone.
“Yeah, Daddy, stay still,” your five year old echoes, giggling as she clings to his shoulders. She’s half-standing on the couch behind him, trying her best to sway him to make your job harder.
Jason stares straight ahead, eyes falling shut.
He barely slept last night. And because the universe wasn’t done playing with him, your daughter came barreling in at 6 am, jumping straight onto him and demanding waffles.
And how could he deny the tiny gremlin anything? She looked up at him with your bright eyed look and carefree smile. He felt like his heart was about to burst from how full it was.
And now, because he couldn’t deny you either, he’s stuck serving as your test subject while you try out a new henna design.
“Princess,” he tries, “why don’t you go play with your toys? Or go draw or something?”
Your daughter pauses for a second. “…On the wall?”
Jason exhales slowly, eyes closing for just a moment. You snort, half listening to their conversation as you work.
“No,” he says, opening them again. “Not on the wall.”
She tilts her head, then points at his arm where you were making a design.
“On you? Like Mommy?”
You snicker. “Yeah, you can, sweetie.” You hold up the cone. “But it’s not really a fun color, so how about you bring out your markers?”
"I can use the glitter markers!" she says, grinning, then sprints into her room to search for the markers.
Jason’s head snaps toward you.
“What? She wants to draw on you,” you say. “And we both know you were going to say yes.”
Two strong arms wrap around your waist, pulling you back more firmly onto his lap. He rests his chin on your head. “Your fault, baby. She looks like you.”
“Hey, don’t move me—”
His hands slip under your shirt, his touch making you lean back. Your focus falters for a moment.
“You’ve got the prettiest fucking eyes,” he mumbles softly, the exhaustion loosening his tongue.
“I know.” You go back to squeezing the henna cone and moving the tip of it around his palm.
It’s silent for a while. In the background, you can hear your little girl rummaging around for the markers.
Once you finish, you lift up his hand so he can see. He squints, inspecting your “design.”
“Sweetheart… is that a dick with hearts around it?”
“Not just any, it’s yours.”
He stares at his palm. “And how long is this going to stay?”
“A couple of days.” You don’t tell him that, technically, he could wipe it off so it wouldn’t stain as badly.
“Right,” he mutters to himself.
He presses a messy kiss to your cheek, and he doesn’t make a single move to wash it off.
Your daughter runs back into the room with a box of markers. “Found them!! Now we can make Daddy pretty!” She bounces onto the couch.
He sighs. His girls would definitely be the death of him.
꒰ content ꒱ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ Jason Todd, Dick Grayson, Wally West, Roy Harper
JASON TODD
You’re on his back, arms and legs wrapped around him like a very determined koala.
“Sweetheart, get off me,” Jason groans, struggling to keep his balance.
“No! You’re leaving me.” You tighten your grip.
“Baby, sweetheart, listen to me,” he huffs, both hands gripping your thighs to make sure you don’t fall. “I need to get your meds so you feel better.”
“Oh, so now you think I’m crazy?”
“No—you’re sick!” he insists, finally putting you on the couch. He kneels between your legs, looking at you like you’re the bane of his existence.
“In the head?” you ask suspiciously.
“Physically, dumbass,” he says, rolling his eyes. Then he mumbles, “…Probably that too.”
“You can’t leave me when I’m most vulnerable. I’m gonna die all alone.”
He stiffens. Then with a seriousness that unnerves you, he cups your face in his hands and mutters, “Not letting that happen, yeah? You’re the only thing worth living for.”
You blink, heat crawling over your cheeks. “Oh…”
“But I need to get you medicine so you’ll feel better,” he adds quickly. “It’ll take five minutes tops. Okay?”
“I… yeah. Right. Of course.”
His shoulders slump in relief. He pulls you into his arms, one hand tangling in your hair. “I love you, you menace.”
WALLY WEST
Wally learned very quickly that super speed meant absolutely nothing against you. Not when you weaponized those pretty puppy dog eyes.
He’s zipping into his suit faster than you can speak, and yet you’re already standing in the doorway, a pout forming on your lips.
His heart shatters. It’s a simple thing to others. But to him? The fact that you always want to be with him means everything. It means you love him enough to let him see every part of you.
Including the clingy, pouty version that had your exes running the other way.
Wally, however, lives off your love, bathes in it when the world gets too fast.
“Be safe,” you whisper, tugging your blanket around your shoulders like a shield.
It’s only 7 a.m. on a Saturday. And he wants nothing more than to scoop you up and carry you back to bed.
“Always am, babe.” He grins reassuringly, running a hand through his ginger curls.
“You better be,” you mutter softly. “Need more morning cuddles. How else am I supposed to survive?”
“Aww, you need me?”
“Just your body heat and strong arms.”
He’s in front of you in a blur of red. Your eyes widen.
“You totally need me,” he whispers, lips tugging up. He’s always smiling when he’s with you. A reflex he can’t control.
You roll your eyes. “I simply miss my emotional support vibrator.”
He snickers. “Is that all I am?”
His hands tighten your blankets around you before his arms circle your waist, his breath fanning your ear.
You don’t reply. Instead, you soak in his presence and the peace that comes with it.
“I’ll be back.” He kisses the side of your head, already starting to pull away.
You lean into him, head under his chin. “Five more minutes.”
“Sweetheart…”
You look up at him with wide eyes. “Pretty please?”
He swallows. “…Yeah. Okay. Whatever you want, baby.”
DICK GRAYSON
Dick hates stakeouts. Not because they’re boring or uncomfortable. He’s been doing this long enough for it to be as easy as doing a backflip.
The problem is that he’s leaving you half asleep in bed, the rain tapping against the windows while you pretend to be okay.
“Go to sleep, angel,” he whispers.
On the other side of the comms, you shift in bed, blankets rustling through his earpiece.
“I can’t sleep without you.” In your sleepy state, a hint of a whine slips through, and it makes him want to run straight back home.
“I know, I know. I’ll try to wrap this up quickly.”
You let out a soft, tired sigh that goes straight to his heart. His jaw ticks. He needs to speedrun this stakeout.
“Stop being cute, honey.”
“How else am I supposed to get you back home?”
A hushed laugh escapes him. “You only need to say the word, and I’ll finish up here as fast as I can.”
“Come home then.”
“Working on it.”
You groan. “You hate me.”
“I could never.”
You can’t see him, no one can. But hidden behind the domino mask, his eyes soften anyway, affection written all over his face. He looks like a man completely and hopelessly gone.
“Okay. I love you, Dick,” you murmur into your phone, a tiny smile tugging at your lips.
“I love you more.”
“You know damn well this argument will never end.”
“Maybe I don’t want it to.”
ROY HARPER
The fan did nothing to help. You’re pressed up against Roy, limbs tangled together. It’s a sweltering night, the kind of heatwave the news warned about.
Roy groans, shifting slightly. He’s shirtless, the covers thrown aside. You admire him while curling back against him.
He side eyes you. “Trouble…”
“Yeah?” you mumble into his chest, the vibrations making him shiver.
“Can’t you live without cuddles for a day?” He tries wiggling away from you.
“Move away again and I’ll call Lian over too,” you say, arms going around his neck.
He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer.
“Don’t threaten me,” he warns, voice low and amused. “I’ll surrender every time.”
“Only because Lian’s the only one clingier than me,” you whisper before your lulled to sleep by the fall and rise of his chest.
Masterlist
Technically, I only promised a wally drabble if the Seahawks won…but I had to write for the others too
I love how in Daredevil, Frank Castle is like this intimidating guy who's a well matched threat to the hero but in Spiderman he's still the same character but Peter just... does not treat him with the same amount of gravity. He webs Frank's mouth shut for swearing and tells him to go home after breaking his van. He argues with the man who's whole deal is he has a lot of weapons and WILL use them like two New Yorkers who got into a fender bender. Peter Parker and Frank Castle see each other coming and they both go "This fucking guy again." I love it.
