That saxophone is still playing??
⋆˚࿔ Romantic things DC men do that they don’t even realise (fluff headcanons) Part 2!
- Characters (separately): Conner Kent, Oliver Queen, Barry Allen, Roy Harper, Hal Jordan
- CW: Suggestive in mostly just Hal's bit, possibly OOC, Oliver's part is a little long, proofread once (I think that's it)
- This is so scary...anyway this is the request :P
Conner Kent
Constantly showing you off:
Conner's self-confident grin shines as he brags "Yeah, that's my partner, right here!" He extends his phone out that had a picture of you, smiling in front of a corn maze. The simper was mildly awkward; but to Conner, that was still his lover regardless!
“And then—” he wraps his arm around Tim’s neck before scrolling through the album once more, “that’s when we went to a ballet and they wanted to get dressed, aren’t they hot?!” He smiles radiantly to Tim.
To appease his friend, Tim nods, “yup!” With no further comment, only to have his chest shoved.
“Hey, back off! That’s MY hot partner, go get your own!” He scowls with little effect or impact as his goofy grin returns as he proceeds to continue scrolling through the album on his phone exclusively containing images of you.
A small moment passes when he lands on a picture of the both of you; he admires the real toothy grin you sport and he’s also in the picture mirroring your smile. The imprint of the smacked lipstick mark on his cheek evidently matched your own lips in the picture with the colour having barely smudged against your lip line.
With a subtle upward turn in his lips, he tapped the heart icon to put it in his favourites; he’s happy to keep that one to himself, rather than show off in this gathering…
Oliver Queen
Always helping out:
"Honey, seriously I can handle it!" you huff when the bill comes over for the dinner.
You don’t usually pay for meals when it comes to the dynamic between you and your husband, but you just got a raise at work and you’re on cloud nine! Might as well, right?
Immediately when you start counting your money, your darling husband petulantly pouts and looks at the waiter. “My spouse wants to pay…unbelievable! I’m the billionaire philanthropist and ex-playboy yet they’re telling me they want to pay!” He vents to the waiter.
...
As you both walk out of the restaurant, Ollie’s hand plants itself on your waist, “I still could’ve paid, y’know that?” He pouts, though the childishness is dampened because of the proud presence of his facial hair, much to his relief.
“I know you can, but I just wanted to do it today.” You pat his chest.
Oliver simply scoffs, it’s certainly clear he wants to go home...with a plan!
...
You’re both laying in bed, the plush engulfs the both of you as the calmness is embedded within the air, Oliver has been deciding on a movie to watch for the past 10 minutes and you couldn’t care less anymore.
The buzz of your phone vibrates against the bedside table and sluggishly you claw for it. It’s an email? From your university...?
Dear (Full name)-Queen,
Thank you for the transaction made toward the master's degree programme for our School of (___)
You blinked. Twice. Thrice.
"Uhhh...Ollie, I got a weird message?"
"Hm?" he hums absently
”Remember when I wanted to apply to that good college for my masters? Well I didn’t but apparently I just received a receipt for it and an acceptance letter—” you were cut off by your own husband
“Oh yeah, I paid for it,” he attempted to remain neutral, to maintain a semblance of stoicism but his own excitement peeked through in the form of a grin. "It was pretty easy and you had the stuff already filled out on your account, I just submitted it when you were in the bathroom earlier. Surprised they let you in so quick."
Staring at him pointedly, to test if he’s lying, you see nothing to indicate it on his face.
You pounce on him and kiss his face with the air filling with the smack of your lips scattering. “You—why?!”
“You paid for dinner, I might as well help you back, right?”
With a serene laugh, you comment “you’re crazy..”
“Crazy for you!” he smirks, staring at you smugly.
“ew…”
Barry Allen
Explaining things without mansplaining:
You watched as Barry stood in front of the standing board, he plotted out structural models of chemicals. Hell, you don't even know what he's trying to figure out as he stares into the diagram.
"Whatcha doing, babe?" You ask, sitting on the couch and just looking at the back of his lean body in that red shirt.
"I'm trying to figure out some way to make DNA profiling easier in forensics..."
The back of your neck heated in mild self imposed embarrassment as you just didn’t understand him, “Uh huh, totally. I hate when the DNA profiles so stupid…”
Barry chuckles and finally glances away from the glossy white board into the similarly glossy whites of your eyes before laying focus onto your pupils.
“Just seeing if there’s a possible chemical I could use or—hell, if it’s possible to manipulate an existing compound cheaply for forensics…”
You nod slightly and tilt your head curiously, he continues, “There’s a whole lot of things I could do here to approach this situation. The issues just money, y’know?”
This was certainly a change of pace. A guy not talking to you like you were two years old? It’s awesome!
"And it'll be so fun if we can get some good results! It'll make the DNA profiling process take less steps and be more concise—woo the rush!"
Roy Harper
Gentlemanly gestures without even realising:
Roy had no problem whatsoever being a gentleman. Half the time he doesn’t even realise it.
As you both enter the small cafe, the waft of specialty coffee and caramel curling comfortably against you, Roy had trained behind you after opening the door.
A heavy hand rests on your back as he guides you inside “cozy, huh?”
“yeah, it looks so cute.”
Roy takes his opportunity to be mildly trying “You look so cute.” He smirks while poking your side, making you jolt.
“you suck..”
“cmon, go find a seat—I’ll go order your coffee”
He leaves you be to choose a place, and as you shuffle the chair out and settle down, you can hear Roy speaking to the barista behind the counter—it’s not that difficult, the place is compact anyway!
“Can I get a regular black coffee? And can I get a..”
He pauses to recall which you would’ve been offended by if he hadn’t snapped back and stated your ideal order, including the sandwich you get as you would usually text him.
You smirk ever so slightly when he comes walking back after a couple minutes with both cups.
The paper cups releases dual knocks as they settle upon the small, two person table; you reached for the cup, took it and drank it, sighing as you relish in the familiar taste of your preferred drink.
Roy smirks at your relaxation and takes your hand, allowing your fingers to rest on the side of his palm. He leans down and places a kiss on your knuckles, and you let out a quiet huff of amusement.
You had grown used to these gestures, that doesn’t mean you’re ever gonna get tired of them!
Hal Jordan
Fixing things around the house:
“Damn it!” You yell out in a surge of frustration, making Hal turn to your direction from outside of the bathroom.
Hal’s steps are rushed, he isn’t sure what to expect from that surge of frustration that sounded from you. As he’s finally caught in the doorway, the sight is comical: you in a bathrobe, turning the sink in and off sporadically with no water coming out.
That’s how you now have Hal in his green lantern suit, laying back on the floor of your shared bathroom.
“Sweetie, we have a tool box in the garage”
“Yes but are those tools 100% adjustable?” He dopily grins, expanding and shrinking the glowing green wrench as he retreated back under the sink.
You leaned against the sink, with your feet planted between his legs, tired and bleary. The haze of thoughts was interrupted though by a wolf whistle from under the sink, the angle perfect for Hal to gawk.
“Nice legs, hon! And nice bush you got under that robe—”
You flushed and your face burnt up as you jabbed your foot into his thigh, scampering away to the shared bedroom, “Aw cmon! I like a bit of hair (Name)!” He calls teasingly
dividers by @cursed-carmine
This never stops getting scary
