Hi! I love your writing style, especially how you portrait Rook, it's just how I imagine him💜
Could I request for Rook, Vil, Floyd and Azul reacting to reader calling them "love" or something affectionate for the first time? Maybe with reader realising and imploding on the inside?
Of course no pressure, I eat anything you write anyway!
-🔥
GUYS THESE PROMPTS. and thank you so much <3 I like thinking I do a good job 😭
summary: accidentally calling them "love"
type of post: headcanons
characters: floyd, azul, rook, vil
additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is not specified to be yuu, fluff!
𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐲𝐝 𝐋𝐞𝐞𝐜𝐡
it's a quick slip of the tongue, one he might not have even noticed if he was distracted by anything else
unfortunately, today it's you that's caught his attention, and so he hears and processes every honeyed word with startling accuracy
"Could you pass me that pencil, love?"
wait. that's not what you'd said in your mind
the embarrassment is immediate, and you would have apologized if not for the big grin on his face
he goes on to brag about it to everyone for the rest of the day
...or week
however long it takes for that fuzzy feeling to wear off him
of course, at that point, he'll find you and pester you until you say it again for him
you never did get that pencil.
𝐀𝐳𝐮𝐥 𝐀𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐨
perhaps your unfortunate habit of verbalizing your subconscious thoughts has finally come around to punish you
you're in Azul's office at the lounge, and he's explaining something about budgeting
you don't... quite understand, but he seems pretty pleased with himself, so you're happy for him
"I'm so proud of you, love,"
congratulations, you broke him
he forgets everything he said and everything he was about to say
and he just stares
his face burns a bright shade of red, and for a moment he looks around the room as if he's searching for somewhere to hide
you feel bad right away, and make an attempt to explain and apologize, though your own embarrassment makes everything you say unintelligible and even more embarrassing
after a moment of watching you stammer he just shushes you
"I appreciate the compliment. Just give me a warning next time... there will be a next time, won't there?"
𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐭
intentional or not, he's been waiting for this moment
it's late, you're tired; Rook had been dragging you around campus all day, showing you his favorite "people-watching" spots
by the time he walks you back to Ramshackle, you're happy, but completely drained
(being around Rook tends to do that)
you're too sleepy to even realize the words coming out of your mouth until it's too late
"Thank you again. Good night, love,"
his reaction is immediate
he launches into a very long soliloquy about his feelings towards you, what a wonderful day it was, and how he treasures your relationship no matter how you define it
already has some petnames of his own for you ready to go
amour, chou chou, chéri, miel, cœur...
prepare to never hear the end of this
𝐕𝐢𝐥 𝐒𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐧𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐭
Vil is actually quite used to being called all sorts of lovely things
...albeit, mostly by his fans
and if it were anyone else calling him their love, he wouldn't have even noticed
but hearing it in your voice immediately catches his attention
the sentence is so simple, of course you would've missed it. he'd simply been giving you some advice, and...
"Okay. Thank you, love,"
he would have teased you for it (lovingly, of course) if not for the fact that it made him feel flustered
him. flustered!
he stares at you until you realize what exactly you'd just said to him, and then, understandably, you freak out
trying to backtrack won't help, neither does trying to explain, or apologizing
after a moment of letting you struggle, Vil just laughs
"My, my. Don't worry yourself, I take it as a compliment. But we'll have to work on your confidence some more, won't we?"
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bday sex w/ spencer?
thanks for the request! ♡♡
Hunger | Spencer Reid x Reader
MASTERLIST
18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Summary: Penelope has decided enough is enough and throws Spencer a small birthday celebration. Your only duty was to pick up the cake. How could you have known the bakery would give you the wrong one? It's the first time you notice something off about Spencer. He has this look in his eyes you couldn't place, nor shake.
Contents: NO Y/N, fem!Reader, BAU!reader, co-workers, friends to lovers, smut, oral sex (f rec), fingering, unprotected sex, penetrative sex (p in v), creampie, fluffy really, If I missed any warnings please tell me!
3.7K words
take a shot every time I say 'look'. This is also the second fic in a row where I mention he keeps his socks on during sex. idk why. he just seems the type, I suppose. it wasn't a conscious choice I made, it just happened - nik
"And you're picking up the cake, right?" Penelope's voice flooded through the speakers of your car. You chuckled at her frantic behaviour.
"Yes, Penelope. I'm on my way to Spencer's now. Don't you worry your pretty little head about it."
After Spencer hadn't properly celebrated his birthday several years in a row, she insisted on throwing him a small party. She'd dragged you along in her shenanigans.
Which is why there was currently a nondescript white box on the passenger seat of your car. You hadn't dared to open it, even to have a peek. Penelope would have your head if it spoiled in any way.
"Don't you dare drop it! I mean it!" She hung up after her empty threat.
You drove into the parking garage and got out of the car. You walked around and picked up the cake with the utmost care, placing it on the roof and closing the door. You held the cake with both hands and took it to the apartment building.
Penelope met you at the door, taking the box from your hands, putting it in the fridge and ushering you to 'Go sit somewhere and act normal!'
"Calm down, Garcia. Derek's keeping him until at least 19:30. You'll be fine," JJ interjected. You turned to her, sharing a knowing look. If there was anything to love about Penelope, and believe me, there was a lot, then it was her complete devotion and commitment to make her friends happy.
She got everything ready in the living room. Balloons, garlands, presents, the entire childhood dream. Derek gave Garcia a heads-up that they were bound to arrive any minute now.
You walked into the kitchen and got the cake out of the fridge. You grabbed some plates, forks and knives and took everything to the living room.
Spencer wasn't an idiot. He knew when Morgan was holding him hostage from his own apartment, his coworkers must've been planning something for his birthday.
"Oh, I wonder what we'll find when we open the door," Spencer's joking voice could be heard through the door. The sound of keys entering the lock brought a large smile to your face.
When he finally got to walk in the door, his suspicions were confirmed.
The duo joined everybody eagerly awaiting the birthday boy. Penelope looked like she could implode from the excitement. You were sure that if you had enhanced vision, you'd be able to see her vibrate on the spot.
"Surprise!"
Spencer was grinning from ear to ear. Derek clapped him on the back and guided him into the group.
Penelope sat Spencer on the grandpa chair she'd situated in the middle of the room, placing a party hat on his head. She'd insisted on them. Even Hotch could not look stoic and rigid with the polka-dotted cone placed on his head.
You walked from the commotion to go put the candles on the cake. You opened the candles, looked for the lighter and finally breached the seal on the white box holding the cake. The sight before you had you perplexed.
Happy
Birthday
Sexy!
Right. The hot pink cake with white frosting was most certainly not the one intended for Spencer. You let out an uneasy laugh and placed the candles anyway. Cake is cake, I guess.
And it's not wrong.
You lit the candles and walked over just as the others started belting their hearts out. Spencer cringed awkwardly like you're supposed to when people sing you Happy Birthday. You sought panicked eye contact with Penelope but to no avail. She was busy snapping pictures of the birthday boy from every angle.
Spencer locked eyes with you as you set the cake down in front of him. Derek barked a laugh, obviously the first one to notice the mishap. "Way to be bold, mama!"
Spencer gave him a confused glance before turning his eyes to the cake, mouth opening and closing a couple of times due to a loss of words.
"Well, they do say "Aging like fine wine' for a reason," Emily snorted.
"What!? That's not the right cake!" Penelope exclaimed, turning to you. You gave her an apologetic expression, shrugging your shoulders.
"They must've given me the wrong one at the bakery! I didn't want to mess it up, so I left the box closed. I'm sorry, Penelope. But hey, I'm sure it'll taste just fine."
You cut into the cake and dealt out the slices. You contemplated giving the slice reading just the word 'Sexy' to Spencer and gave in. It couldn't do any harm. You brought it to him with a crude attempt at a wink. The man of the hour turned red, if only slightly. He took the cake, thanked you and tentatively tasted the frosting, eyes lighting up in delight.
You swiped a finger through the frosting, putting it in your mouth and tasting it. You nearly had to stop yourself from wincing. My God, that's sweet. But Spencer seemed to love it, which was the crucial part.
You caught his gaze, finger still resting between your lips. Your heart skipped a beat as an unreadable expression on his face before he ironed it out with a smile, raising his plate in a toast. You raised yours back, but your heart wasn't in it. 'What the hell was that?' You wondered as you took a proper bite of the overly sweet cake.
Spencer's gaze had been on your face, his eyebrows furrowed in what seemed like worry. His mouth had been slightly agape. But it was his eyes that struck you. His pupils were dilated as they seemed to be filled with contemplation.
The expression stuck with you. It wasn't one you'd seen before, not from Spencer. You tried to come up with the right words to describe it throughout the party.
Emily handed you a drink, toasting to another year with Spencer.
Intrigued?
Penelope whispers in your ear, asking what you'd gotten Spencer as a present.
Calculating, maybe?
Rossi tells a life story, wishing Spencer a bright future with many similar experiences.
It was almost ambitious. Or eager, perhaps.
Whatever it was, it was burned into your brain. What made it so compelling was that Spencer clearly hadn't wanted you to see it, seeing how he schooled his expression the second he'd realized you were watching.
You nursed your drink as your coworkers started trickling out of the apartment one by one. You shamelessly watched Spencer as he was engrossed in an animated conversation with Penelope. Emily took a seat next to you, following your gaze to the enthusiastic duo.
She didn't have to speak a word. Years as colleagues and friends were bound to create an implicit form of communication. Add a bunch of profilers, and much went unspoken. You sighed and leaned against the cushions.
"I don't want to hear it, Prentiss."
She laughed fondly. "I'm just saying, I'm gonna be driving Penelope home soon. Just humour me and talk to him about it."
"There's nothing to talk about," you dismissed. You looked down at your drink, refusing to meet her eye.
"You really haven't been present at all tonight. What's got you in your head?" Emily put a hand on your shoulder.
"It's nothing to be worried about, Em. I'm just overthinking. He gave me this look earlier, and it's frustrating me that I can't figure out what it meant," you shrugged.
Emily looked contemplative. "He's been watching you, you know. Not just tonight. It's been a while since I've noticed, though he's really ramped it up."
"What do you mean?" You wondered genuinely.
"I don't know..." Emily started. "He just has this look on his face when he thinks nobody's watching. Believe me, you can ask JJ about it. She's seen it, too. We've talked about it."
"What kind of look?" You asked, curious if it could've been the same thing you spotted earlier tonight.
"I can't really describe it. I'd almost call it... Greed? Maybe? It's a bit off-putting if you ask me. It's only you, though." Emily shrugged, clearly holding back on her explanation. She seemingly weighed her options before continuing.
"You want to know what I think, profiler to profiler?" Emily finally broke. You urged her to continue.
"Objectively speaking, and only looking at the facts, I think it can only be described as hunger." The tone of her voice implied that it wasn't a silly implication she was making for the fun of it.
"Hunger?" You asked, glancing at Spencer from the corner of your eye.
"Yeah, hunger. And not the food kind."
You choked on your drink at the implication. "Are you out of your mind? We're at his house, Emily!" You whisper-shouted.
"Yeah, well, whether I tell you here or at the office, the jet, or any other place, the man looks at you like he's starved. You have desire, and then you have this. It's concerning, really."
Of all the things it could've been, hunger wouldn't have been your first guess. Emily sure picked a convoluted way of telling you he undressed you with his mind on the daily, according to her.
You panicked a little when Emily got up from the couch, asking Penelope if she was ready to go home. You glared daggers at her. Don't leave me here with him! Not after what you said.
You could make your exit now, but you'd seem too eager to 'have an out' if you went with them.
Spencer thanked Penelope generously for the party. He was genuinely appreciative of all the thought and effort put into it. You bid your goodbyes to the girls, and with that, you were alone with Spencer.
"Hi," he spoke softly, sitting opposite you on the couch.
"Hey," you replied, laughing a little. You took a sip of your drink, which had gone flat. You put it on the table and turned back to Spencer. There it was again, the look.
He observed every crevice of your face as you did his. Much like with Emily, your communication with Spencer often went unspoken. But you couldn't read him, and it bothered you.
"What's with that look?" You finally dared to ask, ignoring Emily's implication.
His eyebrows furrowed. "What look?"
"The one you gave me just now. And earlier, after I gave you your cake. According to Emily, it's not the first time."
"I don't know what you're talking about." He didn't meet your eye, opting to pick at the threads of the couch. It was a lame attempt at deflection.
"Don't bullshit me, Spencer. You look like you want to eat me alive."
Spencer bit his lip and seemingly calculated every possible outcome of the conversation. He shook his head in defeat, toying with his fingers. You awaited his answer, tension rising in your stomach.
"I guess that's one way to put it," he finally sighed, meeting your gaze. His eyes were intense. After his admission, you finally found the correct adjective.
Lust.
Without a thought, you threw your body forward, putting your hands on the side of his face and bringing your lips to his. He kissed you back with a sense of desperation. Your hands went up to his hair, tugging experimentally. A low groan met your ears as Spencer pulled away.
"Are you 100% sure about this? I don't think I can go back to how things used to be if we continue," Spencer admitted, bringing a hand up to cup your cheek. You leaned against it and closed your eyes, slowly nodding.
"Yeah, Spencer. I want this, want you." He searched your expression for doubt or uncertainty, but only found conviction.
He nodded. "Okay. Okay, lie back," he motioned to the armrest behind you. You furrowed your brows in confusion. Spencer noticed your questioning face and ran his fingers over your scalp, moving to speak into your ear. "So I can eat that pretty pussy of yours."
Your breath hitched, scrambling to lie back as he'd instructed. Spencer's hands made quick work of your bottoms, leaving you exposed. You brought a hand to your face and closed your legs in embarrassment.
"Hey, none of that. Let me see you," Spencer urged. You silently complied, opening your thighs and letting Spencer rest between them. He let out a soft moan at the sight of you already dripping.
"Gorgeous, absolutely gorgeous." Spencer complimented before running two fingers through your folds and collecting the fluid. He held them up, glistening in the dim light. He brought them up to your mouth. You didn't need any instructions, hesitantly opening up and sucking them in.
Spencer groaned at the sensation of your tongue swirling around his fingers, feeling his cock quickly come to life after having been half-hard all night. You sighed in satisfaction at the tent forming in his slacks.
"Couldn't think straight when I saw you try that icing. Looked so good sucking on your finger like that," Spencer revealed. So that's what the look had been for.
He took his fingers from your mouth and brought them back down, pushing both inside without further preparation. He pumped them a couple times, trying to find the right angle. A low moan fell from your lips when he found it. Spencer grinned, adding his other hand to rub at your clit.
"I think this is my new favourite look on you," he murmured. He moved his body back on the couch, bringing his face between your legs. He placed a string of small pecks on your inner thigh, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind.
You couldn't help but exclaim when his tongue finally licked an exploratory stripe between your folds. "Shit, Spencer!"
He ate you out like a man starved, gazing up through his lashes to watch your face contort in pleasure. Your hands searched for something to steady yourself, finally finding their resting place in his mop of gorgeous curls.
When he sucked harshly on your clit, your fingers clenched instantly, tugging at his hair harshly. "Fuck, Spencer, oh my God, don't stop."
You felt him moan against your clit, head tilting towards your grip. He continued licking and sucking every good spot while you realized he enjoyed having your fingers yanking at the messy strands.
"Hmm, just as sweet as that cake, if not more." The feeling of his moans against you was a foreign, albeit welcome, one. You quickly felt yourself get closer, tugging his hair and pulling him impossibly close. You needed more.
"Fuck, Spencer. If you don't stop, I'm gonna come," you let him know. Spencer had a devilish smile, increasing his speed. He added a finger back inside and curled it just right.
"Shit, just like that. Don't stop, please, don't stop," you begged.
"Come for me," Spencer spoke, intent on having you finish on his face. You felt your toes curl and legs tense. Spencer's head was the only thing keeping them open.
"Spencer!" You moaned as you rode out your high on his tongue. Your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath. Your legs felt numb as Spencer got up from between them.
"You're wearing too many clothes," he decided, helping you tug your shirt over your head.
"Well, what about you? You're fully dressed, Pretty Boy," you motioned towards his body. He shrugged and took off his vest before unhurriedly unbuttoning his shirt. You put your head on the armrest as you enjoyed the show. He smiled at your antics, humming Marvin Gaye's ' Let's Get It On' before carelessly throwing his shirt to the floor.
He continued humming the song as he undid his belt. You bit your lip, raising an eyebrow at him to continue. He shook his head as he chuckled, tugging his pants down. You smirked at the sight of the tent in his black boxers.
"You're not gonna take your socks off?" You looked towards his feet, clad in one hot pink and one neon green sock.
"Shut up, my feet get cold easily." Spencer pleaded. You held up your hands in mock defence.
You watched as his hands reached for the hem of his boxers. You stopped him, sitting up and hooking your fingers under the elastic. You looked up at him as you slowly tugged them down, freeing his cock. It was achingly hard, precum already collecting at the tip. He removed the boxers and softly pushed your back against the soft cushions.
He leaned over you, putting his hands beside your head. He leaned down and placed a tender kiss on your lips. He grinned, and you felt love surge through your body at the admiration on his face.
"Do you want to know what I wished for when I blew out my candles?" He asked, placing kisses down your jawline.
"If you say you wished for me, I'm gonna have to get all the vegans out of your vicinity because that's so chees- Oh, fuck" Spencer cut your joke off by sucking on your neck, under your ear.
"Hmm, I guess I won't tell you, then," Spencer threatened, reaching behind your back to undo your bra. He took the straps off your shoulders and down your arms, throwing the bra in the same direction he'd thrown his shirt.
"No, tell me. What did you wish for," you urged. Spencer looked down, admiring your figure.
"This, you, under me, to be specific. Thought it would've made a very nice sight, and I was definitely right," he grinned, softly kneading your breast. He placed another kiss on your lips, and you were convinced you could get drunk on just that.
Spencer bent further down, finally bringing your hips together. He ground down, and you winced, still sensitive from your orgasm. It felt too good, though. To finally have him where you wanted him. You wrapped your arms around his neck and brought his lips to your roughly, kissing him with desperation.
Spencer reciprocated, grinding his hips and moaning into your mouth. You pulled away to speak. "Please, Spence. Need you inside."
"Protection?" He questioned, moving his mouth back to your neck and sucking feverishly. You shook your head. "Don't care. Need you now."
"Good, because I don't have any in the house." Spencer groaned, taking his cock in his hand and lining himself up with your entrance. He pushed the tip inside, and you had to take a deep breath before he continued.
"Shit, Spence. So big. Fuck, you're really full of surprises, aren't you?"
"Hmm, there's more where that came from," Spencer joked, groaning when he bottomed out. He allowed you to readjust, not being used to having anything his size inside of you. You brought your hands to his shoulders, fingernails gradually digging into his skin when you nodded at him to move.
"Feel so good around me, f-fuck," Spencer moaned, closing his eyes. He slowly started moving. His hips snapped forwards, sending his cock deep inside of you.
"Oh, fuck, oh my God," you moaned deeply.
"Perfect fit," Spencer sighed. "Like you were made just for me." His pace picked up as desperation set in.
"J-just for you, Spence," you agreed. You wrapped your legs around his waist. The new angle made you throw your head back against the couch.
Spencer trailed a hand down to your clit, rubbing in tandem with his thrusts. You wrapped your arms back around his neck and tugged him close, desperate to feel his lips again. You could understand how people got addicted if this is what it felt like all the time. You wanted to spend the rest of eternity with his mouth on yours.
"So pretty. Had to have you. You've been driving me crazy for months," Spencer's voice was strained with effort as he spoke.
"What do you think about me, doc? When you kept looking at me like that, kept finding subtle ways to touch me. I was going insane."
Spencer smiled as the movement of his hips sped up. Your moans got higher in pitch. His breathing became laboured, losing himself in the pleasure.
Moans of "So good," and "Fuck," joined your name in falling off his lips repeatedly. If there was any sound you could be met with in heaven, it would be Spencer moaning your name in pure bliss.
"O-Oh, Spencer, please," you begged, unsure what for. You just needed more of him. Needed him closer.
"Fuck, oh my, fuck-" Spencer sighed. His pace was frenzied, cock feeling so fucking good.
"I-I'm close- Spencer," you informed him, eyes squeezing shut. The hand on your clit increased it's speed. You couldn't believe you were so close to coming so soon after your first orgasm.
"Wanna cum inside you. Can I please cum inside you?" Spencer asked, groaning at the idea of you dripping with his cum.
"Yeah, yeah, fuck. Please, cum inside me. Wanna feel you, shit, Spencer!" You moaned.
"O-oh," Spencer's hips stuttered as he exclaimed your name in a loud moan. The sensation of his cock pulsing sent you over the edge yourself, joining him in his climax.
He thrust inside lazily a few more times, riding out his high, before slowly pulling out. You felt empty without him, grimacing at the loss of contact. Spencer leaned down and pecked your lips before getting off the couch and walking to the bathroom.
He returned with a warm washcloth and a towel. He helped you clean up, all while kissing you everywhere he deemed fit. He ushered you to go pee, laughing at your wobbly legs. You threw a pillow at him for that.
When you were both clean, he offered you a big, loose shirt to sleep in. You grinned at the implication. He hadn't even hesitated. Needn't even ask if you wanted to stay over.
You tucked yourself under his cold sheets. He soon joined you, wrapping his arms around you and tugging you close. Spencer Reid, notoriously weird with any physical affection, seemed like an entirely different person once you allowed him to love you. And God, were you going to allow him to love you.
"You know, it's still my birthday in Alaska," Spencer spoke when you were almost asleep. You snorted. "Good night, Spencer."
"Good night." You could hear the smile in his voice.
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BATBOYS FAV POSITIONS
Dick Grayson is a bit of wild card. But walk with me, Dick is a doggy style kinda guy (Dixon's run). Face down and ass up is how he loves to see you. He definitely runs his hands up and down your back, subtly deepening your arch.
I can see it now: Dick has you bent over, a vise grip on your hips, and he's going at a punishing pace." Baby so whining just for me," he'd groan out. Be prepared for Dick's hands to snake up into your hair. It doesn't matter what length or texture, his hands will be in your hair. He may even pull it if he's feeling kinky and in one of his moods.
he half-moans as his hips smack against your ass." Do I feel that good, love?," he'd ask with a smug and knowing smirk. Then he'd bring your back flush against his chest and wrap his hands up in your hair." You're gorgeous when you cum around my cock," he'd whisper in your ear and speed up his already impossible pace.
Consider that star imploding, sun draining orgasm one of many he'll give you. Dick has got master stamina, and you'll go round after round until you tap out. Even then he'll go," hmm? Cant do anymore? I fucked you that dumb all you can do is moan and tap on my thigh, huh?"
Jason Todd is a man who loves to be ridden. I believe it's called the cowgirl position. He's usually tired from striking fear into Gotham criminals, but he knows you want sex and he wants to please you--or you mutually want sex.
He'd definitely let you take the reins. Jason would smile as you pressed his chest and laid him down on the bed and climbed onto his lap. His cock would jump at the feeling of heat radiating from your cunt." Fuck, so wet and pretty...'s all mine ," he groaned.
Soon enough, your cunt was squeezing and milking his cock. He had his arms wrapped around your waist and his head buried in your tits as he whimpered and moaned." P-Please keep going." Jason would also rub your clit as you rode him. He prefers to see you orgasm more than anything--and he knows the sooner you cum, he can too.
I'm also a firm believer of Jason enjoying you overstimulating him. Maybe him projecting (even though that's lowkey what HCs are) but I think Jason likes being pushed past his limit. He'd love for you to keep riding after he's already came. His thighs tensed and quivering; his cheeks plump and cherry kissed; white strands of hair sticking to his forehead from sweat. He'd have a grip on your biceps and be fucking you onto his cock like a toy, just listening to your dazed and incoherent babbles as you both use each other past your respective limits.
Jason moans and whimpers as he cums. Walk with me: Dick is a grunter, Jason is a moan/whimperer, Bruce is silent but you can tell from the way his abs tense, and Tim is a speaker. Damian (way older obv) is a cusser, I feel.
Anyway, back to Jason: he's does aftercare for you both. Depending on how hard you used each other, the aftercare is different. If Jason and been traveling and you hadn't seen each other, so y'all REALLY fucked each other silly, like thigh trembling, hardly coherent silly then he'd wrap you in his arms and y'all would go to sleep. But if it was normal post-orgasm feeling, then he'd run you both a bath.
Ima need y'all to really walk with me on this one: Jason would wash you. Not in a creepy way, but in a loving way. He's showing affection, not control or dominance, but love. I truly believe he'd buy your beauty products even if it cut into his budget. Jason would love to massage the soap into your skin; he'd feel at peace when he ran the shampoo through your strands of hair, ensuring each lock was wiped clean of the absolute debauchery y'all had just gotten into.
Tim Drake from what I'd read gives me a 69 kinda vibe. He thinks it would kill two birds with one stone. You both get off, you both are happy and it saves time. Not only is it efficient, it also ensures that he doesn't tire out and embarrass himself with his lack of sexual stamina.
I may lose y'all with this one, but Tim is not that good of a fucker, but his true gifts lie in cunnilingus. He can out-eat anyone, especially with the right person--you. Tim would have you moaning around his cock, back arched and thighs trembling. He'd have his arms locked around your legs, just sucking on your clit and tonguing your hole. And he wouldn't stop until his lips and nose were slimy and soaked.
Tim tries harder than any of the Bat-boys because he feels like he has to prove himself. He feels like he hardly won you over as it is, so the least he could do is please you. I also think, no I know, Tim has a praise kink. When y'all do go P in V, I think he'd stick to missionary until he felt comfortable enough to try something else." You make me feel so...so good," in that moan-y voice will have Tim unintentionally blowing his load and then feeling embarrassed about it. He'd also get a rag to clean you up. And his version of aftercare is eating and watching movies if you're up for it.
Bruce Wayne prefers it when you're both lying on your sides and he can hike your leg up and fuck you deeper. He'd have a hand in your hair, and his pillow-soft lips would be laying kisses on your sweaty neck. He can't get enough of your scent. Being with you brings out the primal side of him, the wild and carefree side.
I truly believe the sex would have little spoken words. He's not big on praise or degradation. Though he does oh-so adore your moans. He'd liquify your sweet sounds and inject them into his blood stream if he could, to get high on you. That's one addiction he wouldn't mind having nor would he be rushing to kick.
He's also very iffy on the aftercare. Sometimes he's the pinnacle of aftercare etiquette. Other times he's cold and stand-offish when he feels he's slacking and shirking his duties as Batman. He'll retreat into the Bat. And even as he yells and insults, he HOPES you won't get tired and leave. He HOPES he can shut himself up before making an irreversible mistake. Hope is a big thing for him. After all, he's a man of facts and statistics.
Even if Bruce can't be there in the flesh, he still ensures you're taken care of. Bruce ensures you have the best and warmest meal. Whether it's Alfred's making or the fanciest restaurant in Gotham. He'd have wardrobes and glam teams flown in from Paris and Italy to personally attend to your appearance. Not because he feels you need it or he'd rather you look a certain way. He'd love you if you wore a plastic bag. No, he's doing it for you. You want clothes and shoes. You want makeup, and he wants the best for you. So premier glam teams it is.
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