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BatBurger isn’t the fanciest place, but it’s definitely the dirtiest. At least, since the previous owner was shot and it was taken over by new management.
“Ew, Roy. There’s literally a dead rat behind the counter. It’s staring at me.”
“You’re fine, sweetheart. A little rat poison won’t kill ya.” Roy mumbles between bites of his fries.
Unfortunately, being raised by Bruce Wayne means your standards for health and safety concerns are much higher than the average person. Fortunately, that’s kept you from catching any food borne illness from, hmm, say, a dead rat being in your food.
“Yuck.” You poke at the burger on your plate.
“If you’re not going to eat it, I will.”
Sighing dramatically, you grip his hand tightly in your own. “And here I thought I’d lose you to vigilantism, but it’ll actually be rat droppings. Or dysentery. Or the plague.”
“Do you want to get out of here?”
“Yes, please, please, please, please, please. Baby, I will make it worth your while, just get me out of here.” You plead, glancing back at the rat. “Immediately.”
“Come on.” He pretends to look put out as he wraps an arm around you, ditching your food at the table. “Pizza?”
“Sure.” You grin, leaning into his side.
He leans down to press a kiss against your lips but you dodge. “Hey!” He mumbles, looking downright outraged.
“I am not kissing you until you wash your mouth out.” He pouts. “I’m not joking, Roy Harper.”
He grimaces but nods anyways, at least he can still hold your hand.
The pizza is ordered and on its way by the time you and Roy get back to your shared apartment, settling down onto the couch while you wait.
“So…can I please kiss you now, your royal highness?”
“Not with that attitude.” You snip, looking away.
He flops down, laying all his weight on top of you. “I’m so sorry, please let me kiss you, love of my life, pumpkin pie, cherry pie, sweetie pie, pi formula—”
You kiss him quickly and he grins against your lips.
You pull away much too soon for his liking, but at least his plan worked.
“Really? Annoy me into kissing you?”
“Don’t hate the player.”
“Ugh, gross.”
“You love me.” He mumbles, kissing you again.
“I do.”
The doorbell rings before he can insist you actually say the words, making him stand with a sigh.
“I will miss you greatly.”
“The door is literally five feet away.”
“Too far.”
“If you don’t hurry, I’m going to answer it.”
“And risk the pizza delivery guy falling in love with you? Absolutely not.” He shakes his head dramatically, pulling open the door. “Ew, actually, that’s not a problem.”
You peek your head up over the couch, only to come face to face with your oldest brother. There’s three boxes of pizza perched in his left hand as he grins. He’s even wearing the uniform. How he got it? You have no clue.
He pushes past your boyfriend, ignoring his indignant shouts as he hops over the back of the couch. “I figured I’d bring you guys pizza, see what you’re up to.”
He looks around the room, settling into the middle cushion before grabbing the remote. “Movie?”
“We’re actually in the middle of a date.” You say slowly, eyes narrowing at Dick.
“Oh, I don’t mind.” He shakes his head with an easy grin as he props his feet up on the coffee table, really making himself at home.
You share a glance with Roy.
It’s gonna be a long night.
—
“Do you have a reservation?” The man behind the desk sends a disgruntled look at Roy, or at least at his attire.
You nod slowly, “Yes. It should be under Wayne.” Your nose crinkles as you frown at the immediate change in the man’s posture.
Of course.
Roy was wearing a suit too! Just because it’s not Tom Ford or Couture, doesn’t mean he should be looked at like that.
The host immediately straightens, eyes widening as he gestures towards the back. “Right this way, Miss.”
Wrapping your arm around Roy’s, you lead him down the aisle. He unravels himself from you at the table so he can pull out your chair, pressing a quick kiss against your neck as he pushes your chair in.
A flush of heat runs through you at the action but he just winks as he settles into the seat across from you.
Glancing across the table, he must decide you’re too far as he scoots his chair closer to you.
Biting back a laugh at the waiters shocked expression, you order a soda for the two of you and dismiss the man.
Roy shoots you a grateful look after you insist that you do not want any champagne or wine or anything of the sort, despite the waiters insistences.
“Thanks.” He mumbles, flipping through the menu. His eyebrows pinch together, “There’s not even any prices on here.”
“They’re secret prices.”
“What?”
“It’s a secret.” You shrug, reaching over to pat his hand. “And you don’t have to worry about the prices.”
His grimace makes you snicker, pulling your hand away before he catches it, interlocking your fingers with his.
In an attempt to rid your mind of the dead rat from the previous date night, Roy suggested a new Italian place downtown.
He’d intended to pay, but there’s no way you’d let him. Not when you have access to Bruce Wayne’s bank account.
Or your trust fund.
But that didn’t mean Roy was any happier about you paying for a date he asked you to go on.
“I just think—” His words are cut off as a new chair is dragged to your table.
You glance up at the noise, an annoyed pinch in your brow before you see who it is.
“What are you doing here, Tim?” Your brother grins widely as he sits, immediately slumping into his seat at your table.
“Same as you. I’m having dinner with Roy.”
“No, you’re not.” You grimace, sipping from your water.
“Hey, man.” Your brother ignores you in favor of smacking Roy’s shoulder. “How’s it going?”
“It was going fine.” He mutters, sharing a glance with you. “We’re kind of having dinner here.”
“Me too!” Tim grins, snatching your menu from the table. His eyes scan the pages as he continues, “What are you guys getting? I’ll get the same. Should we order an appetizer for the table?” He glances at you, “You are paying, right?”
—
You hear the window slide open as you’re finishing the final touches of your makeup.
“Roy, is that you?”
“No,” a familiar voice scoffs, “and what’s Roy doing at your apartment?”
You meet Jason’s gaze in the bathroom mirror before rolling your eyes.
“Don’t roll your eyes.”
“Don’t lecture me about my boyfriend.”
“He was my friend first.”
“He literally wasn’t.” You argue before turning back towards the mirror to check your lipgloss.
“Whatever. Just don’t—”
A sneeze from behind him cuts him off, and your attention is suddenly drawn to the much shorter boy in the apartment.
“Damian?”
He scowls, arms crossed and nose red as he huffs. “I don’t need to be here. I’m just fine to patrol.”
His voice comes out nasally and you have to stop yourself from cooing at the sound.
“Yes, you do have to stay.” Jason huffs. “He’s sick. And I need you to watch him.”
Your face darkens as you turn back towards the older man. “It’s your turn to babysit.”
“I don’t need a babysitter!” Damian scowls but you both ignore him.
“I have to cover his patrol, which takes precedence over your little date.” Jason taunts, already backing his way out of the doorway.
You stomp after him, arguing profusely but he’s already out the window before you make it into the hallway.
Figures.
You turn to Damian with a soft smile, breathing returning to normal now that Jason has left.
“I’m going to change, if we’ll be here all night. Why don’t you find Roy and pick a movie?”
—
Halfway through the movie, Damian passed out on the couch.
“He must be really sick.” You murmur, worry filling your voice as you press a hand against his forehead.
He definitely has a fever.
“Can you carry him to the bed? I’ll get a washcloth.”
“Carry him?” Roy hisses, jumping away from you at the idea.
You roll your eyes, already standing. “Don’t be such a baby.”
“He’ll kill me if he wakes up!”
“Then you should be quiet.” You whisper back, sneaking off to the bathroom as Roy does what you said.
Once Damian is all settled in bed, the fan blowing just the way he likes, damp washcloth resting on his forehead, and a glass of water on the nightstand, you sneak back towards the living room with a sigh.
“I can’t believe you made me do that.” Roy groans, arm thrown dramatically across his face as he lays on the couch.
You laugh softly, settling onto his waist. “Oh, honey.” You coo, running a finger along his jaw. “I’ll make it worth your while.”
He sits up immediately, arms slinging around your waist as he pulls you closer. “Oh, yeah?” His voice drops.
You grin, pressing your lips against his.
The window opens again, but neither of you hear it, too preoccupied with eachother.
“Ew, gross!”
You jump off Roy’s lap, almost falling to the floor, but he throws an arm out to catch you.
“Do you have any bleach? I need to clean my eyes.” He continues, clutching his face like he can push the vision from his mind.
You groan, dropping back beside your boyfriend as Jason stomps towards you both.
“Move over.” He glower.
Roy raises an eyebrow but does as he says.
Your brother settles between the two of you on the couch, spreading his legs as much as possible to widen the distance between the two of you.
You blink at him, “What are you doing here?”
“Finished patrol.” A pause. “I don’t want to watch this.” He snatches the remote.
“Okay, but why don’t you just go back to your place?”
“Yeah, right!” He scoffs, “I had to travel all the way over here, without dinner, no less, just to see you two making out.” He gags as he says it, disgust filling his face as he points at your boyfriend. “And now, it’s my brotherly duty to make sure this guy keeps his hands to himself.”
—
“Are you sure nobody will catch us?” Roy whispers, lips pressing kisses along your jaw as you giggle into his neck.
“I’m sure.” You breathe out, pulling him closer with a teasing grin. “Why? You’re not scared, are you?”
“Of Batman?” He shudders, “Yes, I am scared of Batman.”
He ignores your laughter to pull away, shooting a nervous glance down the hallway.
“I’m sure. They’re all out patrollling, it’s just us here.”
“Not just you, miss.” A familiar British voice rings out from the door beside you, making you yelp as the two of you jump apart.
Now at a respectable distance from each other, Alfred nods. “Carry on then, I’ll just be in the kitchen.”
You breathe heavily, clutching your chest as he wanders down the hallway before disappearing into another room.
Roy looks at you before hissing, “You said nobody was home!”
“I forgot! And you cannot be freaking out about Alfred catching us.” You cross your arms, eyebrows pinching as he gestures wildly.
“That’s worse than Batman! He actually kills people!”
“Don’t talk about sweet Alfred like that!” You tsk, “He made you cookies earlier.”
“You said you made those!”
“I lied!”
—
Advertisements were still playing on the screen when you and Roy found your seats.
The lights were dimmed and the air smelled like artificial butter from the popcorn.
Perfect.
He clutches your hand, keeping your arms together on the armrest.
You turn to look at him as he snatches a handful of popcorn. The lights from the screen flash across his face, momentarily gifting you glimpses of the man you love.
He turns to meet your gaze, smiling softly. It’s been ages since you’ve gotten to be together, just the two of you. It seems like every time you’re alone now, one of your siblings finds a way to interrupt.
The door to the theater opens again, and a crowd of three hustles in. You ignore them, instead pressing a quick kiss to Roy’s lips as he smiles at you.
He follows your lips after deciding you’d pulled away too soon, grabbing your neck to kiss you properly.
“Aww, you guys are so cute.” A sickeningly sweet, yet familiar, voice coos.
“Ugh.”
The two voices overlap with a snicker from their third counterpart.
You pull away with a groan, already recognizing them. Steph, Cass, and Duke all stand in front of you, each with varying degrees of excitement written on their faces.
“Hey, guys.” You don’t look away from Roy, even as you speak. He grimaces.
“Hi.” Cass grins, “You don’t mind if we sit here, do you?”
You stare blankly at your sister. She stares back.
“Fine.”
Out of all your siblings, she’s definitely the least intrusive. Nothing to—
“Move.” She turns her stare to your boyfriend.
Your jaw goes slack as you grip his hand tighter. “You can’t tell him what to do!”
She shrugs but Steph cuts in before she can say anything else. “Come on, the movies about to start. Plus, she’s right. Move it, Harper.”
“He’s fine where he is.” You glare, swatting her hand away as she attempts to push him.
“Really, I want to sit here.” Roy insists, biting back a groan as someone behind you yells about being quiet in the theater. Ironic.
“That’s the problem!” Steph hisses. Duke nods in agreement.
“Yeah, but with your track record, man, you can’t keep your hands to yourself.”
“Yes, I can!”
“Can’t.”
“Can.”
“Can’t.”
Cass takes his momentary distraction to pull him from his seat before settling down next to you. She offers her box of candy towards you without a word.
You send an apologetic glance towards your boyfriend, who is now stuck sitting beside Stephanie, as you accept the candy.
Throughout the movie, Roy tries to catch your eyes, pouting every time he manages to. You just shake your head at him with a smile.
That makes him soften slightly. Just a bit.
Every time there’s a jumpscare, Duke begins to glow faintly on your other side, resulting in multiple containers of popcorn being thrown at you alongside shouts of not being on your phone during a movie!
So overall, it was a pretty typical date for the two of you.
Roy catches your hand as soon at the movie is over, nearly lunging at you from his seat as he pulls you outside. “I’m so sorry to say this, babe, but this was not worth convincing Ollie to babysit for.”
“No, no, I completely agree.”
—
“It’s just milkshakes, babe. We’ll be here for like five minutes.” Sighing, you slip the bag from your shoulder, hanging it on your chair.
When you suggested milkshakes after leaving the movie theater, you figured you were in the clear. The date has already been interrupted once, there’s no way it’ll be interrupted again.
“That’s what they want you to think.” He mumbles, ignoring your words in favor of continuing to scan his periphery. “But they’re everywhere.”
After several interrupted dates in a row, Roy has developed a complex of some sorts, constantly on the lookout for your siblings.
Unfortunately, you hadn’t accounted for your father.
“Harper.” He gravels, a pointed look sent in your boyfriend’s direction before his gaze softens on you. “Sweetheart. I didn’t realize you’d be here.”
He slides into the booth across from you, since Roy is sitting beside you.
You sigh loudly, “That’s hard to believe.”
He feigns offense, “You mean, you think I came here just to crash your hangout?”
“Date, dad. It’s a date.”
“Sorry. You think I came here just to crash your play date?”
You stare at him. He blinks.
“Okay, that’s it. Dad, I need you to listen very closely so you can tell the others.” You breathe sharply, “If any of you interrupt one of our dates again, we’re eloping.”
“Babe—” Roy starts at the same time your father speaks.
“Honey—”
“No!” You wave your hands frantically, ignoring the loos from the other patrons in the diner. “We will be gone and you won’t find us. Do you understand?”
Bruce swallows thickly before nodding. “Is that all?”
You sit back down with a huff, accepting Roy’s arm around your shoulder. He rubs your arm soothingly as you grumble. “Yes.”
“Okay.” He considers his words, glancing between you and Roy and then back to you again before frowning. “But you wouldn’t actually elope, right?”
⋆˙⟡ Summary - As a nurse working in crime alley you know that you shouldn’t walk home at night. That doesn’t stop you from doing it anyway late one night after a long shift. Red Hood saves you from two men in an alley. You think it will end there, vigilante encounters are rare, like strikes of lightning. You just go about your life with the assumption that you will never see him again.
But the encounters only seem to pile up from there.
— Dick Grayson x f! Queen! reader (Oliver Queen’s daughter)
status: complete
word count: 25.2k
Ten years ago, he was your everything—a best friend, a teammate, something more. Then, he left without a second thought, leaving the mantle of Robin behind and with it, you.
Now, after an incident in Star City forces you to hang up the bow, you relocate to Gotham hoping for a fresh start. What you find instead is Dick Grayson in a coffee shop, a broken thermostat, and an offer to stay at his apartment until your heat is fixed.
You tell yourself you'll never fall for him again, but it's hard to go on lying to yourself when he's sleeping in the room next to yours.
huge thank you to @suigenerisisadiva & @jk906628 for beta-ing for me <3
chapters:
001. right where you left me (3k)
Ten years ago, he was your everything—a best friend, a teammate, something more. Then, he left without a second thought, leaving the mantle of Robin behind and with it, you.
Now, after an incident in Star City forces you to hang up the bow, you relocate to Gotham, hoping for a fresh start. What you find instead is Dick Grayson in a coffee shop, a broken thermostat, and an offer to stay at his apartment until your heat is fixed.
002. holiday-ish (3.1k)
After Dick comes to your rescue, tensions arise and old memories are brought to the surface. Between an emotional evening and a nostalgic breakfast, you begin to wonder if the boy you used to love is still in there somewhere
003. santa doesn't know you like i do (2.9k)
After an invitation to Secret Santa pulls you back into the midst of some old friends, you begin to wonder whether revisiting what you lost might also mean rediscovering something worth holding onto
004. yule shoot your eye out (3.1k)
Unsure how to face Dick again after the events of last night, you take a day alone to go shopping to clear your head. When the snowy weather shuts down transit and you're forced into walking home, the last thing you expect is to be jumped
Unlucky for them, they picked the wrong target.
005. sunday (monday) (2.3k)
Trying to avoid a repeat of yesterday's incident, Dick insists on taking you Christmas shopping with him, but an impromptu invite to the annual Wayne Christmas Gala derails his plans.
006. getaway car (3k)
It's the annual Wayne Christmas Gala, and spirits are high, but so are the odds of running into people from your past life: namely, your father.
Lucky for you, the Wayne family is here to save the day.
007. christmas (baby please come home) (4.5k)
With alcohol-fuzzy memories, you find yourself waking up in the one place you never thought you would again: Dick's bed. When Wally shows up to take Dick away, you call on Jason to help you navigate your complicated feelings.
008. last christmas (3.1k)
it's Christmas Eve, the night of your long awaited Secret Santa. Gifts are given, drinks are had and long repressed feelings are finally brought to the surface just in time for Christmas.
Prompt: “you have to let me go.” | event masterlist
In Which: Kyle wakes up in another universe.
Info: angst. suggestive in 1 part. 2 uses of y/n. mention of death. loosely inspired by star trek tng season 5 ep 25 “the inner light”. 1,919 words. written for @juneofdoom. beta-read by the lovely @twentytomidnight
“Kyle?”
His eyes flutter open, squinting as he adjusts to the light of the early morning sun. His eyes slowly shift around the room, his sleep-addled brain realizing that he does not recognize his surroundings, that he does not recognize you— the beautiful woman kneeling on the bed beside him, gazing upon him with reverence.
“I didn’t think you were ever waking up,” you muse, gently brushing a few unruly strands of hair out of his face. “Did I really tire you out that much?”
Kyle opens his mouth to speak, but his uncertainty of the situation has too many questions flooding through his mind— who are you? Where are we? How did I get here?— so he settles instead on the one thing he is sure of. “My head hurts.”
You frown, pressing the palm of your hand against his forehead. “You are really hot. Your temperature, I mean.” Shifting, you grab your water bottle and hand it to him. “Here.” You watch with concern as he hurriedly drinks it down.
Your eyes dart to the clock on your bedside table. “I have to get ready for work, but I can make you some toast before I go, yeah?”
Kyle nods, watching you gather your things as you leave the room. He sits up slowly, looking around the room as he gathers his bearings. Finding nothing out of the ordinary about it (other than the fact that he doesn’t remember ever being in it before), he shifts his attention to the nightstand, opening the drawer and rummaging through it.
Inside he finds a surplus of loose sketches, polaroids of the two of you that he has no recollection of. He picks one up, reading the small scrawl on the bottom. Y/N’s birthday. Well, at least he knew your name now. His attention turns to the far back corner, a small box tucked safely inside. He reaches for it and pops it open, staring down at the diamond ring it holds. It isn’t till that moment that he realizes his own ring, though not as grand in design as the one he is holding, is missing from its place on his hand.
The door opens then, and Kyle quickly closes the box and returns it to its place, shutting the drawer just as you walk in.
“Here,” you say, rounding the bed and handing him the plate. “I put extra honey on it for you. Antioxidants and all that.”
“Thanks.” Kyle forces a smile, though the voice in his head tells him that his presence here is not right.
Your eyes scan his face. “Are you sure you’re okay? I can call in if—”
“No!” Kyle coughs awkwardly as he watches a look of shock cross your face. “I mean, I’ll be fine. You go. I’ll just… rest.”
You look like you’re about to protest, but think the better of it. “Alright. Just text me if you need anything, yeah?” You’re about to place a kiss on his cheek before you pause, deciding to avoid that too, and you gently squeeze his shoulder instead. “See you.” And with that, you take your leave.
Kyle listens as your footsteps get further away, as the door shuts and the lock clicks. He waits a few more moments to ensure you are gone before beginning his search for his missing green ring, moving the pillows and checking underneath the bed and in the pockets of the clothes that lay on the floor, only to come up with nothing. He goes through the dresser drawers, pausing his search to change before resuming it, but again, no ring.
He ventures out of the bedroom, searching the kitchen and living room, but there is still no sign of his ring anywhere. Just more pictures of the two of you at places he didn’t know with people he’d never met. He stares at them , wondering for a long while before coming to a conclusion.
He was in the wrong universe. Even worse, he was in the wrong body— one that looked like his, but did not feel like, and was not his own.
What he was going to do about this, he didn’t yet know.
When you arrive home, you find Kyle sitting in the chair by the window, gazing out at the yard.
“I know I’m home early, but you didn’t answer any of my check in texts so I got Tiff to cover the rest of my shift so I could come home and make sure you’re alright.” You let out a breath. “Are you alright?”
Kyle offers you a tight lipped smile. “Sorry. I’m okay.”
“Just answer your phone next time, okay? I was really worried.” You reach for his hand, squeezing it gently, and Kyle squeezes back in apology. “I got stuff to make chicken soup.” You add, moving over the kitchen. “You just rest till it’s ready.”
He does rest, for a few minutes at least. Then he’s up again, eyes scanning the photos on the wall. A question pops into his mind, and he decides to ask it for the sake of seeing how similar this universe is to his own.
“Y/n? Why don’t we have any pictures with Guy?”
“What guy?”
“The Guy who I’m friends with. Guy Gardner?”
“Kyle, I’ve met all your friends. You don’t know anyone named Guy Gardner.”
Well.
“I do,” he starts slowly, watching you dump the sliced carrots from the cutting board into the pot. “But not here.”
“Oh, so he’s a childhood friend then?”
“No. He’s a current one.”
You turn to look at him. “How come I haven’t met him yet, then?”
Kyle’s silent for a moment, deliberating. He could keep beating around the bush, but that wasn’t all that fair to you, was it? “Because… I’m not your Kyle.”
You stare at him in confusion “Sorry, what?”
“I’m not this universe’s Kyle Rayner. I’m from… from somewhere else. I’m a superhero over there. A Green Lantern, I don’t know if you’ve ever heard of them? But I don’t have my ring with me and I don’t know how to get back. The point is… I don’t belong here.”
“Kyle, honey,” you start, hoping to sound reassuring though you feel anything but. “I think you’re still sick.”
“No, I’m—” a pained expression crosses his face and he practically crumples to the floor.
“Oh my god!” You rush over to him, eyes scanning his face as you try to assess the situation.
“Kyle!”
“Kyle?!” You shake him gently, trying to get him to look at you.
“My head…” he groans, burying his face in his hands.
“Hey, I’m gonna get you to bed, alright? I think you need to lie down.”
He nods, aiding you as best he can to get him from the living room floor to the bedroom, where he collapses into bed.
Several hours later, Kyle wakes, eyes shifting around the room before landing on you, sitting on the opposite side of the bed, your back against the headboard.
“Hey,”
“Hey.” You offer him a small concerned smile. “How’s your head feeling?”
“Better.”
You nod, staying silent for a moment. “I’m gonna heat you up some soup.” You get up, pausing in the doorway. “No matter what universe you’re from, you still gotta eat, right?”
Three weeks later, you and Kyle are sitting in your yard, staring up at the stars. You can tell from the expression on his face that he is thinking again; of a life of adventures in space with people the two of you have never met and creatures you weren’t even sure existed.
Kyle senses your gaze on him. “You still don’t think it’s real, do you?”
“I don’t think it matters what I think, only what you do.”
“I think…” Kyle trails off, eyes roving your face. “I think I like being here with you.”
You smile softly. “I like being here with you, too.”
It’s been five months since Kyle landed in this universe— your universe— and he can see why your version of him fell in love with you. You’re one of the most caring people he’s ever met. Never once did you tell him he was crazy when he’d bring up aliens or his life amidst the stars. You just… listened, and let him talk for as long as he needed to without any judgement.
If he was going to be stuck in this universe, he wouldn’t mind being stuck with you. And if he was going to be stuck here for the rest of forever, it was only fair to do what this universe’s Kyle Rayner had wanted, right? After all, he’d already bought the ring.
At least, that’s what he told himself when he’d proposed to you in the park an hour ago.
Now, though, listening to you gush about the ring he chose, he can’t help but feel a little guilty about it.
“It’s so pretty,”
He smiles softly, his lovestruck gaze glued to your face. “I’m glad you like it.”
“Of course I do,” you reassure him, placing a kiss on his cheek. “You picked it out for me.”
You place another kiss on his cheek, the corner of his mouth, and finally one to his lips, soft and sweet.
“Kyle? Hey!”
Kyle freezes mid kiss, pulling away from you and turning towards the direction of the sound; seeing nothing but trees. “Did you hear that?”
You blink, your brain catching up to his words. “Hear what, sorry?”
“My friends… I thought I heard them,”
“…Kyle, honey, we talked about this,”
“C’mon.” Kyle stands, his hand still in yours. He tries to pull you up with him, only you do not budge, and there is a sadness in your eyes that makes him pause.
“You have to let me go.”
His eyes widen at your words. “What?”
“I love you,” you pause, tightening your grip on his hand for a moment, “but I can’t keep doing this.” You say, shifting your hand in such a way that your ring catches the light. “You said you gave me this because you wanted to be with me, but you’re still trying to leave. And if you were right when you said you don’t belong here, then I don’t belong over there either.”
It’s then that Kyle realizes he is faced with a choice: to stay with the woman he has grown to love, or return to the life he thought he’d left behind.
It’s a choice he doesn’t want to make.
Luckily for him— or perhaps, unluckily— he never had to make the decision. It was made for him.
“Simon, help him!”
Kyle feels a shock go through his body and his eyes shoot open, violent coughs wracking his body as he rolls onto his knees.
“Easy, Rayner.” A hand pats his back. “Don’t lose yer lunch.”
“What…” he wheezes, “just happened?”
Jess glances between Guy and Simon before looking back at Kyle. “I think you died?”
“Wonderful,” he says, though the comment is not entirely in jest.
It had been wonderful, in a way. Whether it was real or just a pre (or post?) death dream, he’d gotten to meet you.
Later that day, when he’s being fussed over after his temporary death, Kyle remembers hearing somewhere that the brain can’t create new faces in dreams. He hopes it’s true; that somewhere out there, you exist. Maybe one day he’ll get to see your face again, if only in passing, if only for a moment.
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Summary: When Barbara and Cass start training a new Batgirl, Stephanie isn't sure what to think. You're perfect, everything she wants to be and everything she could never have, and your arrival forces Stephanie to confront whether she wants to be you, or be with you
froggi yaps -> lowk this has been sitting in my drafts foreverr because i know it won't do as well as my other dc fics and that made me sad >.< but i love steph and hopefully the other 12 steph enjoyers will like this <3
If you asked Stephanie Brown who Batgirl was, she’d say it depends.
Barbara’s Batgirl was strong, brave, and cunning. A pathfinder, a wonderful hero who saved countless lives and gave everything she had to the life. She was a pioneer, a champion who pathed the way for the rest of them.
Cass’s Batgirl was different, a fresh take on an old hero. Though she’s quiet, though she’s vicious in her fighting, she’s still heroic. She brings a calm sort of comfort wherever she goes.
But if you asked her about herself, she’s not sure what she’d say. She’s a civilian amongst gods, someone dressed in a knockoff costume playing pretend while the others do the real heroic work. A cheap imitation of the real thing.
As far as hero-ing goes for her, she already feels that she doesn’t have much going on. Not that she needs the reminder.
Entering the Batcave, already exhausted from her lack of sleep and the incredibly long day she’s had, she’s not sure what to expect. Maybe the usual arguing amongst Bats, Tim and Damian trading insults like a normal day while Cass sits quietly and reads in the corner.
Definitely not the scene that comes to play out in front of her—Barbara and Cass teaching someone new to spar, someone she’s never seen before who is very much dressed in a rendition of the Batgirl costume. She blinks, rubbing her eyes like the scene will disappear when she does.
It doesn’t.
Her lips purse into a frown. Another Batgirl? Something ugly twists in her chest. She’d fought like hell for this mantle, had done it all on her own against the will of pretty much everybody, and here’s someone new, wearing it with the support of both her predecessors.
She shakes her head, blonde hair bouncing. No, that’s not fair. She forces a smile, stepping up to the mat to watch.
She watches quietly for a few minutes while you trade blows with Cass, watches you fight as hard as you can to keep up with Cass who’s very clearly restraining herself. Cass sweeps a leg, taking you down to the mat easily, your mask bouncing off your face.
You squeak, sitting up and rubbing the back of your head where it hit the mat.
Steph’s eyes widen slightly. You took that hit like a champ, and now, seeing you without the mask, she can’t help but think how pretty you are. That twistiness inside of her only grows heavier.
“Hey, good timing,” Babs calls, waving her over.
Steph tugs down her hood and mask. “Hey, guys.” She strains to keep her voice as cheery as usual, “who’s this?”
Cass introduces the two of you, and Steph can’t help but note the way she already seems warmed up to you. How long has this been going on?
You smile and step forward, offering her a hand. “I’ve heard so much about you!!”
“Hi.” She takes your hand, that same strained smile on her face, and shakes it. “It’s really nice to meet you.”
She can’t help but notice the softness of your palm against hers—not yet calloused by night after night of hard fighting and acrobatics—and the purple sheen on your nails, almost perfectly matched to her costume. Her hand lingers just a moment too long.
“She’s helping us with this drug trafficking operation at the docks,” Barbara explains, and Steph wonders if she can see through the facade she’s putting on. “Cass and I are helping her brush up on her fighting skills.”
She nods thinly, “right.”
“The Batgirl thing is just temporary,” you explain. “I just needed something to conceal my identity and Babs—”
Stephanie winces at the way the nickname rolls off your tongue, like you’ve always been friends.
“—just had this one laying around.” You finish.
You do a little twirl in the costume, the long cape splaying out as you do. Steph can’t help but look you up and down, examining the way the costume seems to fit and accentuate every curve on your body. Her eyes widen slightly. It fits you like a glove.
The three of you get back to your training, leaving Steph to watch on the sidelines. Slowly, she edges her way out until she’s back outside in the Gotham rain.
If you asked Stephanie now who Batgirl was—her version at least—she could only tell you one thing: replaceable.
The Batgirl thing, it seems, is not just temporary, and Stephanie can’t seem to escape you.
She’s gotten used to your presence now—the way you linger nearby on missions, the way you spend more time with Cass than without, the way your eyes occasionally meet hers only for you to look away quickly like it never happened. She’s never quite sure if you’re judging her, or trying to get her attention, or some other third thing she hasn’t thought of yet.
It would almost be sweet, if it didn’t have her feeling so self-conscious.
It’s after patrol one night, the summer sun just beginning to kiss the horizon of Gotham City, when you catch up with her.
“Steph, hey, Steph, wait up!”
She’s tempted, if only for a moment, to speed up and pretend she hasn’t heard. And yet, for some reason, she can’t. You’ve never been anything but perfectly nice to her, and this jealous mean girl act of hers is so high school.
She tugs down her mask, turning to face you. “What’s up?”
“I think Cass and I were going to this cafe this morning for breakfast, do you want to come?” You smile awkwardly, tilting your head to the side, “they have amazing coffee.”
She considers it for a moment, gears whirring in her head. Some coffee and breakfast would be amazing right now, as well as some time with Cass. But you’ll be there, like a constant reminder of everything she isn’t, and she knows she won’t be able to keep up her positive mood the whole time.
She flashes you a weak grin, “I think I’m just gonna go to sleep.”
“Oh,” disappointment flashes behind your eyes. “No worries, sleep well.”
You turn on your heel to leave, approaching the edge of the old warehouse rooftop you’ve been standing on, when suddenly you look over your shoulder. The golden light of the rising sun reflects off your skin, making your eyes glow and your skin shimmer. You look so pretty like this, Steph can’t help but be a little grateful she only sees you at night.
“I’ll get Cass to text you the address,” you say, that familiar hope back on your face, “y’know, in case you change your mind.”
“Thanks.”
Despite what she said, an hour later Steph finds herself freshly showered and digging through her closet.
She pulls out a casual pink sundress and tries it on, standing in the mirror and examining herself. She frowns at her reflection, smoothing her hands over the dress like that’ll make it fit better. It doesn’t.
Discarding it in the growing pile of clothes on her bed, Steph goes back to the drawing more. She pulls different garments out, trying them on only to drop them back in the pile. She always never struggles this much getting ready, least of all for a casual breakfast with friends.
Sighing, she lets herself flop onto her bed, sitting on her mountain of clothes. It’s just a casual outing, Steph, she tells herself. Just pick a damned outfit,
But she can’t, because all she can think about is what you’re going to be thinking. Are you going to look at her with those eyes like you usually do? She wonders what you’ll be wearing, if you’ll be dressed casual or cute or comfortable. Knowing you, it’s probably some perfect combination of the three.
Her eyes flutter closed as she pictures it. You, wearing some comfy practical outfit, hair perfect, sipping on some fancy drink from the cafe. She thinks about how your face will light up when she walks into the cafe, the way you’ll smile and wave at her when she approaches the table.
“Glad you can make it,” you’ll probably say, or some other line of the sort.
Her heart speeds up at the thought, stomach doing a whirlwind. You’re so…perfect, and here she is, sitting in her mess of a room, unable to pick a damned outfit. It’s not fair, it’s not fair, it’s not fair.
Tears prick at her eyes. One minute, that’s all she asks. One minute where you’re not constantly on her mind, where she’s not constantly wondering about what you’re doing, who you’re with or how you’ll replace her next.
She doesn’t end up going to the cafe.
Steph’s not sure how she ended up here.
The two of you, trapped in a burning warehouse, surrounded by low level lackeys. She’s not even sure who they work for, their outfits a mess of colours and patterns that she can’t quite make out through the steadily thickening smoke.
Your back is pressed to hers, the warmth of your body seeping through both of your costumes, acting as a comfort. At least, it would be a comfort, if the two of you were in any other situation.
The masked men close in, the roar of the distant fire burning gets louder. Steph’s nerves catch fire, buzzing with the impending promise of action. She bounces on her heels, loosening up her muscles just like she was taught. One more step, one more step and she’s ready.
The heel of the closest man inches forward. Steph pounces. All hell breaks loose.
It’s a blur of action, of fighting her way through the seemingly neverending wave of goons. Her muscles ache, every punch and kick only making the burning under her skin worse. The warehouse gets hotter, the smoke rises, clogging her senses.
Behind her somewhere, the sounds of your own violence echo off the walls. You’ve always been a good fighter—probably better than her—but something in the back of her mind buzzes with worry. Like something bad is going to happen, like she needs to look out for you.
She shakes it away, diving back into the action, trying to ignore the constant nagging in the back of her mind.
She finishes off the last of her men, freezing at the sudden silence. She can’t hear you fighting anymore, can’t see you through the smoky haze. Her heart hammers in her chest. Where on Earth could you have gone?
One second. That’s how long she’s distracted for, maybe less. But one second is all it takes for someone to come up behind her, a forearm pressed over her throat and a leg hooking over her ankles. She’s taken quickly to the ground, back thudding hard against the hard ground.
Stars explode behind her eyes, the wind knocked out of her. Through the haze, she just manages to make out the masked goon above her and the gun barrel shoved inches from her face. She cringes, bracing herself to duck and roll, to do anything but lay here and take it.
And just like that, he’s gone, slammed into the ground by a familiar figure. You’re breathing heavily above Steph, eyes wide behind your mask as you reach a hand to help her up.
She grabs you, letting you tug her to the feet, and the way your hand lingers on hers reminds her of the day you met. Your jaw is slack, worry written across every feature. Steph blinks, letting the air come back to her lungs.
“T-thanks,” she gasps.
“We need to get out of here.”
Steph nods curtly, letting you tug her after you as you search for the exit, only dropping her hand when you brace yourself against the emergency exit and shove hard. Cold night air greets her, filling her burning lungs with sweet relief.
She’s dizzy from the smoke, dizzy from the hit she took. Her lips purse into frown. It’s surely going to leave a big, ugly bruise. Goodbye sundresses.
Standing on the rooftop of the burning warehouse, she watches you approach the edge, scoping out the ground below for any sign of the goons who almost overwhelmed you.
You turn to face her. “Tim called the fire department, they’re on the way.”
She braces her hands on her knees, still lightheaded from the fall. The fall. She forces herself to stand up straight, peeling off her mask and hood. “Where did you go back there?”
“Huh?”
“You—you disappeared, it distracted me. Where did you go?”
She cocks a hand on her hip, waiting for an explanation. She was too busy worrying about you, about your safety, to take care of herself. If it weren’t for your impromptu disappearance, she wouldn’t be coughing her lungs up like an amateur right now.
You scratch the back of your neck awkwardly. “One of them tried to get away and—”
“You couldn’t have told me that?” She snaps, walking towards you, closing the gap until you’re inches away. “We’re partners, you’re supposed to tell me these things.”
“I didn’t think I had time!”
“Or you just wanted the glory for yourself,” she spits bitterly.
You pause, lips parting in confusion. She tugs at her hair. Even now, a slight cut on your cheek and sweaty from battle, you still look perfectly cute. She’s sure she must look a complete mess, sweaty and dirty and bruised.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
She tucks a sweaty strand of blonde hair behind her ear. “Nothing, just—nevermind.”
You shake your head. “No, what did you mean?”
“I mean it’s—it’s—”
Frustration bubbles up in her chest, muscles pulling taut like she’s about to enter another fight. She’s not even sure where she’s going for it, what word vomit she’s about to shove in your face now. You’re inches away, staring at her like a deer in the damn headlights, and she’s the lone car on the road with the choice to hit you or not.
“It’s what?”
“It’s you! Always being so—so perfect about everything, being everyone’s favorite, having everything come naturally to you and—and—”
And that urge buzzes beneath her fingertips, that urge she’s always felt just beneath the surface. The one she felt that day you met, when she’d had that fear you’re replacing her. The one she’s felt every day since when you’re around, the same one she gets before a big fight.
She raises a hand and you don’t even flinch, looking up at her with those damn wide eyes. She’s not sure who’s more confused by what she’s doing—you, or her.
And then she’s kissing you, the taste of smoke heavy on both of you. Her hand reaches to cup your cheek, thumb swiping over the length of your cheekbone. It’s hot and tense and she feels more that she’s trying to eat you alive than kiss you.
She pulls away, taking a big jump back like she’s been burned.
“Steph,” you breathe her name.
She shakes her head, closing her eyes. “No.”
“Stephanie—”
“No, okay? I don’t—I don’t want to talk about it.” She’s shaking slightly, her voice breaking on the words, “I don’t even—I don’t want to see you right now. Okay? Just…just forget it.”
She spins on her heel, bolting over to the far end of the rooftop. She can still taste you on her tongue, like smoke and leftover chapstick and something else buried beneath. She wipes at her mouth and the taste still lingers, follows her down the fire escape at the edge of the roof, chases after her on the way home.
It’s only when she’s in the shower, desperately trying to wash it away, that she feels she can breathe again. What on Earth was that?
Your soap isn’t enough to wash away the smell of smoke on your body, or the taste of Steph’s chapstick lingering in your mouth. You stand under the water for what must be an hour, scrub every inch of your body twice, and still, it doesn’t help. Stephanie’s voice still rings in the back of your head.
You disappeared, it distracted me.
You just wanted the glory for yourself.
Always being so perfect about everything, being everyone’s favorite, having everything come naturally to you.
I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want to see you right now.
Coming from Steph of all people, someone you’ve looked up to, pined after, tried to forge a friendship with, the words hurt. They leave you cold and numbed, a new weight in your chest that wasn’t there before the mission.
She’s always been the sun in your eyes, warm and scalding, bright and beautiful, painful to look at. You’ve always gravitated closer to her, done your best to accommodate her, and this is where you end up. With a bitter kiss and more distance between you than there was to start.
You blink the thoughts away, staring into the steam rising from your kettle on the stove. Your phone buzzes, an unfamiliar number popping up on your screen.
Hey, it’s Steph. Can we talk?
You pick up your phone, contemplating opening the message and answering, and yet you can’t. What do you even say to her right now?
You turn off your phone. Let her sit with it for a while.
A while turns into a week. A week of unanswered texts and calls, of attempts by Barbara and Tim and Cass to get the two of you to talk. You shirk your duties as Batgirl, spend as much time as you can locked away at home, far far away from your double life.
Still, Stephanie isn’t one to give up.
The knock at your door comes early in the morning, so early, it rouses you from your sleep. You rub the sleep from your eyes and sit up in bed, the pink hue of the rising sun greeting you.
Another knock at your door sends you stumbling down the hall, slippers barely on your feet. You squint through the peephole, stomach syncing when you see who it is.
Steph stands there, dressed in low rise jeans that suit her just a little too well and a baby tee. Her hair is still wet, curling slightly at the ends where it’s started to dry. She must have showered and ran over here right after patrol.
You sigh, turning away from the door, fully intent on ignoring her.
“I can hear you,” she calls.
You stop in your tracks.
“I know I screwed up,” she says, “please just hear me out.”
“I thought you didn’t want to see me.”
“You know that’s not what I meant, I almost just died, c’mon.”
You pinch the bridge of your nose, taking a deep breath. Deep down, you know she has a point. You almost wish she didn’t, if only so you could stop seeing it from her side.
Despite yourself, you turn around and unlock the door, inviting her in.
She looks sad, undereyes sallow like she hasn’t been sleeping properly. She steps on the backs of her shoes, peeling them off before falling you inside.
“Do you want something to drink?”
She shakes her head, blonde strands falling into her face. You settle in on the chair in your living room, Steph settling in on the far end of your couch—the distance between you hurts, but you’re not sure you could take it right now if she was sitting any closer.
“I’m sorry,” she starts.
You nod, tight lipped.
“About everything.”
Everything. She doesn’t say it outright, but you can hear what she hasn’t said: I’m sorry for kissing you.
“I shouldn’t have—I shouldn’t have said what I said, I was scared and-and frustrated, and I took it out on you and it wasn’t fair.”
You always take it out on me, you’re tempted to say. It lingers on your tongue like her lipgloss from the other night, heavy and toxic and yet filled with something sweet.
“It’s hard, you know?” Her voice cracks on the word, pretty eyes brimmed with tears, “I’ve been Batgirl a while. I-I fought to be Batgirl even when nobody wanted me to be.”
You remember Barbara telling you about that, heard whispers about it from Tim. It was strange to you, you couldn’t possibly imagine a world where Steph isn’t Batgirl. Someone as wonderful and capable as her.
“But then you show up and it’s like, what’s even special about me anymore? And you do everything so well, you’re so—so perfect all the damn time, and everyone loves you and it’s like…what’s even left for me?”
Tears brim at your lashes and Steph’s face drops. She frowns, reaching forward like she can stop them from coming. And then you’re laughing, the sweet feeling of relief flooding your chest.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make yo—”
“Do you think I don’t feel that way?”
Her lips part, shock clear on her face. “No,” she mumbles out.
“Do you think I don’t find you perfect and capable and honestly, really fucking intimidating?” You shake your head, “you left some big shoes to fill, Stephanie and—and it hasn’t been easy.”
She laughs, equally as wet and filled with emotion as your own. “You really think so?”
You rise to your feet, shuffling over to the couch and sitting down next to her. She’s so close, you can smell her strawberry scented body wash and the vanilla lotion she put over top of it.
“Yes, god.” You giggle, and it tastes like relief, “I wish you would’ve just told me this before. We could’ve had this talk a long time ago.”
And she laughs with you, the sound like heaven and sunlight and everything you thought you could never reach, and her laugh makes you laugh more. You let your eyes flutter closed, leaning your head back on the couch, ribs starting to ache from the laughing you’re doing.
And then she’s cupping your face and kissing away the laughter, vanilla flavoured chapstick heavy on your tongue. She moves against you, body pressing to yours and pressing you further into the couch.
She pulls away, cheeks flushed. “Does this mean you forgive me?”
You press a hand on the small of her back, pulling her in again. “You might need to do that a few more times.”
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thanks for reading & have a wonderful week /ᐠ > ˕ <マ ₊˚⊹♡
She’s a civilian amongst gods, someone dressed in a knockoff costume playing pretend while the others do the real heroic work. A cheap imitation of the real thing.
I'm CRYING!!! but this is so accurate to what she would feel ;(
and the purple sheen on your nails, almost perfectly matched to her costume.
Kind of a foreshadowing considering reader does mention later in the fic about how she admires Spoiler!!
If you asked Stephanie now who Batgirl was—her version at least—she could only tell you one thing: replaceable.
SOBBING!!
You turn on your heel to leave, approaching the edge of the old warehouse rooftop you’ve been standing on, when suddenly you look over your shoulder. The golden light of the rising sun reflects off your skin, making your eyes glow and your skin shimmer. You look so pretty like this, Steph can’t help but be a little grateful she only sees you at night.
OMGGG, I LOVE LOVE THIS PARA. Like the whole description for reader and the last sentence. Perfect!!
It’s not fair, it’s not fair, it’s not fair.
You’re inches away, staring at her like a deer in the damn headlights, and she’s the lone car on the road with the choice to hit you or not.
She spins on her heel, bolting over to the far end of the rooftop. She can still taste you on her tongue, like smoke and leftover chapstick and something else buried beneath. She wipes at her mouth and the taste still lingers, follows her down the fire escape at the edge of the roof, chases after her on the way home.
God, I love the descriptions!!
OMGG, this fic was sooo good!!! I love each and every part of it. Like WOW!! probably going to reread this again and again and fall in love with it everytime.
You’re in the wind, I’m in the water - Garth of Shayeris
The beach trip was Kori’s idea that was seconded by Donna and Dick. It was stuck in the group chat for a month or so before it finally made it out of text and into reality. Dick found a house with enough rooms for all of you right on the beach, all on Batman’s dime of course. Donna put together a loose itinerary while Kori took care of buying food for the week long trip.
It took a while for everyone’s schedule to line up perfectly but soon enough you had a flight booked.
Now you are laying in the sands of a warm San Francisco beach with the rest of the original group of Titans.
The sun feels good on your exposed skin as you stretch out near the small private beach connected to the house.
Donna and Kori are talking about a new project they are working on for the current generation of titans next to you under a large beach umbrella. Wally, Garth, Dick and Roy are all trying to drown each other in the ocean, at least that’s what it sounds like from their assorted yelling. And you are just taking in this moment where all of you are in one place and nothing is going wrong.
You always missed them even after you all grew up and were pulled in different directions by fate. Having everyone in one place is rare but you remember how much fun it was to be around each other for long periods of time.
There is the soft crunch of sand beside you as someone sits down next to you, cracking an eye open you see Garth lounging back on his hands beside you.
He looks good- he always did- his shaggy black hair is brushed through by the salty sea air. Garth leans into the sensation with his eyes closed which lets you take him in at rest for the first time in years.
There is a twitch in your hand as you fight the urge to touch him. That would spark an old feeling you haven’t wanted to think about in years. If you didn’t acknowledge it then it didn’t exist even if you felt your stomach does flips when he got too close to you.
“Had enough of them?” You joke with a smile that comes easily to you.
Garth laughs lightly, “They are rowdy and I need a minute to recharge.”
Garth has always been an introverted person.
From how Dick tells it Garth was mostly silent when they began working together before you joined up with them. Now he is better at communicating what he needs and how he feels. He still needs time to himself but always comes back when he feels ready.
“You picked a good spot, the sun is perfect here.” You hum and sit up.
Garth watches you move with an intensity that makes you want to look away. You shrug it off, he has never showed interest in you that way so you chalk it up as a one time thing.
“It is nice here.” He agrees with you.
The two of you talk for forty minutes about vigilante work and your home lives and everything in between. After that Garth is waved down by Wally, who is waving excitedly while Dick has his arms crossed next to him.
“Garth! Come settle this argument for us!” He calls out with a grin.
You watch Garth look from you to the water with a contemplative look before you nudge his shoulder with your hand in the direction of Wally.
“Go on, I think they will go back to trying to drown each other if you wait any longer.” You tell him with a laugh.
“I shouldn’t be put in the middle all the time.” He rolls his eyes but gets up with a grin.
You watch him leave with a soft matching smile on your face.
A flurry of conversation occurs between all three guys before Wally looks defeated and Dick cheers in triumph. You snicker at the unimpressed look Garth has on his face as he shakes his head at his friends. Then Roy is pushing him into the water and they all start yelling again.
The rest of the day is spent at the beach until the sun begins to set. After the sun sets down on the water turning it a golden orange you call it quits for the day and head in side.
You all eat takeout from a tai place that is close by and watch a few movies.
One by one everyone begins to head to bed after the food is gone and the third movie has ended.
In the end it is only you and Garth left on the large sectional in the living room. He is doesn’t seem to be tired at all and you feel the same way.
There is a restlessness in your bones that you can’t seem to shake.
“Do you want to go swimming again?” You ask Garth as you sit up from where you were curled in the middle of the couch, stretching your arms above your head.
He blinks over at you in surprise, “It’s almost one in the morning?”
“I can’t sleep but I know that could tire me out.” You admit, feeling the stretch of your arms in your whole body.
“I will go so you don’t have to be alone.” Garth says, his lavender eyes shining as he looks at you.
“Thanks.” You melt at his casual expression of care.
The beach is beautiful at night.
You can see the moon reflected in the rippling waters in front of you. The sand feels good under your feet as you walk close enough to brush again Garth’s side.
Neither of you are really talking, just staying in step next to each other as you take in the night breeze. He looks out at the water more often then not and you look at how the moonlight highlights his face. It makes you feel like testing the boundaries you have set up between the two of you.
“Let’s get in.” You say hoping to get a hold of yourself before you ruin something you won’t be able to replace.
You never really changed out of your bathing suit so you take off the shirt you threw over it and leave it on the beach. The water is warm enough to swim in even at night. You wade in a little bit before looking back to see if Garth is coming.
Garth is looking at you like he did earlier, intense and probing.
It makes you want to run from it.
“Try to keep up fish boy!” You laugh at him as you pick up the pace.
“Fish boy!” He gasps in offence and rises to your challenge.
His shirt is pulled off easily and you try not to stare at his bare skin. Your eyes trace the scars that decorate his chest with reverence. This distracts you from your mission of putting as much distance between you and Garth before he catches you.
But in the sunlight looking at him was normal and now at night it feels different from before. The air around you is more charged than it should be.
Coming back to the present when you see him walking towards you and start swimming away in earnest. He has always been fast in the water so he is by your side in a second.
Your ankle is grabbed and you gasp in surprise at his grip as he pulls you back to him. Once you are closer he grabs your waist and hauls you up and over his shoulder. You struggle against his hold as heat warms your cheeks at his easy man handling of you.
“Take it back!” He yells but you hear the laugh in his tone.
“Never!” You shoot back and push at his shoulder.
“I will throw you in!” Garth threatens you.
“You wouldn’t!”
“If you don’t take it back then I will Pretty.” He tells you.
Your mind catches on the pet name and you are rendered speechless by it. Garth takes as defiance, he quickly changes his hold on you so you are in his arms bridal style. He stares down at you and you still feel shaken by how easily the name slipped off his tongue.
“Take it back.” His voice is barely a whisper.
Garth’s eyes have wandered down to your slightly parted lips. He is close enough to touch like you have wanted to for ages and you are alone. In your minds eye you can see this crash and burn but you decide to let this happen no matter how hard the aftermath may hurt.
You reach up trace his cheekbone with your fingers. His breath catches softly as you cup his cheek. His skin is soft under your hand and his eyes reflect the sparkling waves at you.
“You are beautiful.” The words are whispered to him.
You know how he feels about his appearance and especially his eyes after being cast out of his home for them. He suffered for years about it but you always found him ethereal in an other worldly way.
All the Atlantians you have encountered have a regal look to them and none more so then Garth right now. He looks like the prince he was born to be before everything happened.
Something in him breaks at your words and his mouth is on yours. He kisses you like it’s the end of the world and his grip feels like he may loose you in a minute. How long has he wanted this like you did?
How many years did you deprive each other of this?
All your mind can think is that you need him closer. Your hands thread through his hair as you pull him deeper into you. He needs to be against you- his hands need to be firmer on your back keeping you in place.
When he pulls back for air you want to pull him back so you can drown in him.
“More-” You plead with him.
“Hold on let me move you-” His voice is ragged with emotion as he shifts you so your legs can wrap around his waist and your arms snake around his shoulders.
You pepper soft kisses to his jaw while his hands explore your body. His hands are warm as they settle on the middle of your back and high on your thigh. It feels amazing to be this close to him.
“You don’t know what you do to me.” His voice is low and rumbles in his chest.
“Show me.” You tell him, grinning against his skin as you bite and kiss along the crook of his neck.
“I always imagined we would do this in a more comfortable place.” Garth sheepishly admits.
“Let’s go back then because I am not going to wait anymore.”
The both of you detangle from each other and stumble back to the house, neither of you fully keeping your hands off each other. You lead him back to your room with a soft laugh as he stumbles over his own feet. It feels like you are both teenagers sneaking around again and you love it.
The next morning you both come out into the kitchen with obvious traces of both of you all over each other.
You are proud of your change in relationship status and grin like you just won the lottery. Garth on the other hand is beet red and almost falls out of his chair when Dick asks about the red scratches poking out of the back of his tee shirt.
All in all it’s a pretty good beach trip.
Blue’s notes - I originally didn’t intend for them to make out but I’m not complaining. Also Garth is wonderful and I love him, he doesn’t get as much love as he should :(
Hockey Player!Jason Todd who was chosen for the American Olympic hockey team and takes it very seriously- much to his older brother’s dismay. He doesn’t focus on the other athletes who aren’t on the hockey team. Except for Dick who inserts himself into anything he is doing when he isn’t focused on snowboarding.
Hockey Player!Jason Todd who isn’t happy when Dick drags him down to the rink on a day when the team isn’t competing. He could be doing other things but instead he is being forced to watch a sport he has no interest in.
“Come on Jay! It will be fun! Don’t you want to see other athletes?” He had said, pulling Jason into the ice rink’s entrance.
“No.” Jason told him gruffly.
He soon gave up fighting his brother since once Dick Grayson got his mind set on something nothing could stop him.
Hockey Player!Jason Todd who sits in the stands to watch the woman’s short program with a scowl and crossed arms as the announcers talk about the first group of skaters up. He watches as the other skaters leave the ring, leaving you in the center of the rink alone. The announcer tells everyone about your program and where you are from. Jason is pleasantly surprised to learn that you also are from Gotham like they are.
Hockey Player!Jason Todd who hears the music start, a light bubbly melody, and watches you start skating. He blinks in surprise as you complete what the announcer says is a ‘triple toe loop’. You are calm but also seem to be egged on by the roar of the crowd that is cheering for you. He is very familiar with that feeling over his years as Gotham’s best left wing forward.
Hockey Player!Jason Todd who is sucked into your routine. He can’t help but be impressed by the jumps and spins you pull off. You are strong and grateful in a way Jason is in awe of. He can see the effort you put into each movement and respects it. When the music comes to stop, leaving you with your arms out wide and a heaving chest, Jason mourns that you are only given two minutes to preform.
Hockey Player!Jason Todd who vows to get your number after he wins a gold medal.
A/N - Yes, I watched Women’s figure skating and this idea struck me like a frisbee to the temple. Also the song reader is skating to is Lover Girl by Laufey.
you wake him when the baby’s being fussy d. grayson
fem!reader wc ! 2.2k warnings ! fluff but suggestive, mentions of unprotected sex, dickiebird is sleepy, bad humor, some talks of parenthood jokingly idk? 🗒️ very rare dada dickie feature i lit adore him. reblog and i’ll give u a kiss 😋 now playing ! babyfather — sade 🎧
The hum of the air conditioning unit permeated the darkness of the apartment.
Snickering to yourself for the upteenth time, you hugged your baby close. You were a new parent afterall, so you had to check to make sure you were holding them correctly, peeking beneath the folds of the blanket as you shifted your weight on the mattress. What a cute baby.
That is, if a baby could be one of the many plushies your ever-doting boyfriend Dick bought you last Valentines’ weekend.
It was doll-like and small, fitting in your arms perfectly for this great scheme. With a deep inhale to compose yourself, you clicked play on the Youtube video on your phone, teasing the volume button up, up, up, every few seconds.
Next to you there was a sleeping Dick Grayson, Blüdhaven’s finest — figuratively and literally — and Gotham’s resident heartthrob. He laid on his stomach, dark hair spread out over the pillow beneath him in thick curls and a strong arm thrown overhead. His right leg hung half off the bed from where it strayed out of the comforter as his fingers twitched softly in his sleep.
The sound of an infant’s wail came from your phone’s speaker, softer, then louder and even louder again. Your boyfriend did not so much as flinch. Desperate, you clutched the swaddled plushie to your chest with one hand and nudged him with the other.
“Dick,” you called out to him. He shifted only slightly. “Baaabe…” you murmured, pushing at his shoulder. “Wake up.”
With a groggy grumble in the back of his throat, he turned on his side, facing away from you. You scoffed, pressing the volume button harder as you bounced your sweet bundle of joy against your bosom.
You heard him groan and you nudged at him with your leg under the comforter, giving a small kick to his muscled thigh. “Hm?” came muffled into the pillow.
“She keeps crying,” you sighed sadly. “I don’t know what to do anymore.”
At the sound of your voice, he turned to face you, his eyes barely opened and a sliver of shiny drool at the corner of his mouth. You almost laughed in his face. Oh, poor baby.
“Did you try feeding her?” He slurred with a yawn, loud and wide-mouthed like it hurt him to not be asleep right now. The noise made his brows furrow tightly.
“What do you think I’ve been doing while you were snoring?” You scoffed. “She just won’t sleep and I don’t know what else to do.”
“M’sorry,” he whispered, scooting closer to where you were until your shoulders pressed together. “I’ll take her.” Dick slid his hands under yours and retrieved the swaddled faux newborn, his eyelashes fluttering with exhaustion.
“You’re tired, you don’t have to.” Came your attempt at intervention, but he relented, his nose brushing the side of your cheek — his version of a kiss when he was between dreamland and reality — and he hummed, attempting to soothe the baby in his arms with a few soft rocks from side to side.
You pressed your lips together to hold your composure. No, you couldn’t laugh yet.
“Shh,” he cooed to the bundle in his arms, clutching it closer to his chest with another long yawn. “C’mon, let’s... let’s go beddy bye—”
“Don’t fall asleep,” you warned, nudging him with your shoulder. “You’ll drop her.” A weak hum was his response as his eyelashes fluttered downwards again, his head drooping ever so slightly.
“Dick.”
“M’ awake,” he inhaled deeply, shifting to pull his upper body up the slightest bit while his fingers strummed sweet little taps and absentminded traces of shapes over the swell of the swaddle where the plushie’s back was covered. “I’m awake, honest.”
A snort escaped you. “You sure about that, baby?”
“Baby....” he repeated, sweet and low. A huh sound was your response as you turned the volume down on the cries, the softest little hiccups lingering until you finally shut them off. He shook his head and murmured it again. “...baby,” but not Baby as in you, baby as in...
“Jus’ needed her Dad,” he hummed, his eyes sinking closed again. “Dada’s got you...” Your heart stuttered in your chest. You watched him rock the little bundle as sleep began to carry him away again, his shoulders slumping slowly and his head falling back against the pillow top.
You shifted closer to him, your face heating up just the slightest the longer you stared at him with the pretend baby in his arms and his face relaxed with sleep. He was so beautiful.
Carefully, you reached a hand out and brushed aside the thick curls curtaining his forehead. The corner of his lips curved upwards and you stifled a giggle.
He looked so peaceful drifting off, one of his arms secured around the swaddled plushie, both legs out of the comforter now. “Dick,” you whispered, your fingertips trailing his hairline then down his jaw, across the line of it then back up to his cheekbone. “You’re losing the covers.”
His fingers twitched against the blanket hugged to his chest and you smiled. “Hey, sleepyhead...” you teased, planting a brief peck on the corner of his lips. His feet shuffled back under the comforter, one slotted between your thighs. You felt him smile.
“Wha....time ’s it?” He slurred grogilly, eyes still closed.
“Early,” you hummed. He made a sound of acknowledgment in the back of his throat and you leaned down to kiss him properly like you always do when you wake him up. “You can go back to sleep.”
“Nuh uh.” Dopey, he smiled lazy and wide. “Kiss me more.”
“Yes huh, Sleepy Wing,” you laughed. “I just didn’t want you to wake up with cold feet—” his other hand snaked around your waist and you squealed, trying (or pretending to) wiggle away from him to no avail as he yanked you into his chest, nose burrowing into to your hair to steal kisses along your temple.
He smooshed his cheek against yours. “Ah! Quit it, you big baby—”
“Yeah, baby?” Dick teased, but the chuckle died in his throat the moment the last syllable left him. His eyes snapped open in a startle and he nearly shoved you away from him out of shock. “Baby!” he exclaimed, hoarse.
“The baby— she—” he shakily propped himself up on his elbows, eyes squinted half shut from the heaviness of sleep. When the swaddled plushie slid down his chest, he caught it in a delirious panic. When he looked down and realized what he was holding, he looked back at you, then to the plushie again.
It was quiet for several moments, and his brows knitted in half-asleep confusion. “Surprise?” You nudged his thigh with your foot. “Richard Grayson, you are the father.”
He ran a slow and deliberate palm across his face, then exhaled long and heavy. “I’m not awake enough for this.”
You burst out laughing. “Oh, my poor baby—”
“No, nope, mm-mm.” He shook his head firmly. “Not another b-word in this house.” All the while, he scooped up the swaddled plushie and carefully set it down on the other side of the bed.
With a grasp of his bicep, you pulled him back down next to you. His head hit the pillow with a soft thud, his thick curls fanning out. “Wow, I’m suing for child support—”
“Enough,” he groaned, faux frustration overpowered by a warm laugh tickling the palm you had cradling his face, moving his hair away from his forehead and bringing it back. “I really thought we had a baby. It was jarring. But kinda... kinda nice.”
Your fingers ceased. “You want a baby with me, D?”
There was a slight twitch in his shoulders as they tensed then relaxed again. “I mean... do you wanna have a baby with me?”
With a scoff, you shoved his arm. “Say it again, you didn’t sound unconvincing enough the first time.” He whined in protest only to pull you closer to him, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck.
“...I’ve thought about it,” he murmured, barely audible.
“What?” You turned your head with a swift lean back to catch any sort of glimpse of his face. The pounding of your heart swelled in your ears. “Dick, I was just teasing you—”
“But, do you?” He tilted his head to look up at you. You swallowed. “I mean, really.” His hand found yours where it lazed drooped against his shoulder and he brought it to rest against the side of his face.
You closed your eyes momentarily in thought. “Maybe,” you whispered, eyes searching his face as your thumb traced the corner of his mouth. “Yeah, maybe I do.”
He laughed, hearty and warm. “Yeah?” His arms banded around your waist as he rolled over onto you, dwarfing you with the bulk of his body. Your legs opened to make room for his hips between your thighs while you laughed— a sweet sound he stole from you with a kiss that was soft and wanton, like you’d been married for half a decade already and this was just the Monday after a reenacted honeymoon.
“I could give you one right now,” he said, the words melded together against your lips. He tasted like toothpaste with a side of cookies before bed and all the flavors of missing you. “Or just for practice—”
“Funny. I hope comedy pays well when the triplets come.” You chided as your fingers sifted through his hair.
You sighed, his palm grasping hold of one of your thighs to lift it up and there your ankle went, hooked over his hipbone. “Dick—” your lips chased him and he ground you into the mattress further, clothed pelvis flush against yours while you whined for relief.
“That’s usually the tool required, yeah,” his grin was wolfish against your skin. His lips travelled down the bottom side of your jaw, then down the line of your neck, down it went and your fingers seized his hair harder when the prick of a canine had you keening.
“Asshole.”
“Baby,” he moaned, hips involuntarily bucking forward, harder than he intended but when you’re Nightwing and trained in the art of overpowering, there’s not much you can do to curb your strength. So you were pushed further up the bed and onto your phone, which you didn’t mind until it shoved at your shoulder blade.
“Dick—” you called out.
“Someone’s eager... been calling out for it what, three times now?”
“No, Dick Dastardly, my phone—” you arched upwards, twisting your body a little to the side to try and grab you phone. He moved your hand away and slid one large arm under your hips, lifting you with ease. You grabbed the phone and with his other hand he immediately snatched it away.
“Hey!” you complained.
He kissed you again, a little harder this time and you moaned into his mouth, barely hearing the soft impact of your phone being tossed somewhere on the bed. His hands went to your hips with a soft squeeze and you could feel the length of him hardened against your inner thigh.
“I love you,” he rasped out against your mouth. You exhaled a breathy whimper and his eyes glazed over with need. But just ust as you were about to say it back—
There came the familiar wailing of an infant on a perfect loop, piercing the quiet of your shared bedroom with hiccups and needy sobs. Both yours and Dick’s heads shot to the direction of your phone where it lay face down, the light of the screen peeking from the space between it and the sheets.
He looked to you incredulously and you shrugged with a shake of your head. “Nope, this is all you.”
He huffed like he’d been slapped. “Jesus christ,” he reached for the phone with one arm as he stayed hovered over you, the over planted firmly under you to keep you flush against him.
“Baby wants her dada, it can’t be helped,” you snickered into the palm of your hand. “Afterall, it’s good practice.” You felt his grip on you tighten a fraction, and he glanced over at you from the corner of his eye.
Once he’d fought and won against the virtual infant — and by winning, it meant he shut your phone off completely and chucked it onto the nightstand — he dived onto you like a beast on the prowl.
“Let’s have a baby,” Dick said in the middle of grinding against your thigh, your eyelashes fluttering from the heat of his body on yours. “You know, some practice.”
“Oh my God,” you howled with laughter at the way his face had even flushed at his own admission. “You’re insane.”
“Why?” he nipped at your bottom lip playfully. “Doesn’t baby need her dada?” You shoved at his shoulders with a fit of giggles that made him hang his head low, forehead pressed against your sternum in shame.
“I love you,” you whispered and he nodded, smitten, pressing soft kisses into your skin. “Yeah,” he chuckled breathlessly. “Don’t ever let me have cookies before bed again.”
contrary, dick grayson is not a cheating manwhore and anything even remotely close to that being described as his personality is propaganda from the cia to distract you from the fact that he’s the puppiest of all pup boyfriends with the bad luck of debilitating attachment issues that usually manifests in him falling hard and very fast because like i said, puppy.
he will eat out of your hands (and eat you out, yum) and worship at your feet if you treat him right and the concept of another taking your place doesn’t even cross his mind because he’s too busy thinking about you you you and telling everybody who will listen.
disloyalty is the antithesis of this man’s character. he stuck by bruce, he stuck by jason, he’s the one everyone calls because they know he’ll be there so there isn’t a single parallel earth where cheating on you is an option. the only thing you should be worried about is him being paranoid that you’ll cheat on him (even though he loves you and the trust he has for you is paramount, he knows his faults) because he isn’t around as much as he’d like to be, but he tries!
dick grayson is a trying man. a very persistent man. and sort of obsessive. he gets antsy when he thinks someone else might have your attention when he’s gone.
it drives him so crazy that he ends up overcompensating, which is hilarious because now you have way more flowers than there is space to put them and all of a sudden he wants to do lunch and dinner and a movie but also ice skating because he heard you mention it once, and oh! don’t forget you two have to go to that wayne gala thing but also stay in and cuddle all night (or as far as the night can stretch before he has to patrol) — he’s hilarious, he’s stupid, he’s sensitive and he’s so yours, please love him.
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not realizing you’re talking to your ex-boyfriend!sukuna while drunk !
you were way too drunk and the sigma chi house was spinning.
the music thumped through the walls and your head felt light and fuzzy, but you were smiling anyway, red cup dangling from your fingers as you leaned against the wall for balance. your friends had disappeared ages ago and you didn’t really mind.
that’s when you saw him.
tall. pink hair. tattoos crawling up his arms. he looked really familiar but your drunk brain couldn’t connect the dots. you just knew he was stupidly hot standing there by the stairs with his arms crossed.
you stumbled over with a bright smile.
“hi,” you said, voice soft and sweet. “you have the prettiest eyes. like… scary pretty.”
sukuna looked down at you and his eyebrow raised, but he didn’t move away. the corner of his mouth twitched like he was trying not to smile.
“yeah?” he asked, voice low.
you nodded, stepping closer until you were leaning into his space. he smelled so good. warm and a little sweet, just like someone you used to know.
“mhm. my ex had eyes like yours,” you mumbled, resting your forehead against his arm because the room wouldn’t stop tilting. “he was mean looking but really nice to me. i miss him a lot actually.”
sukuna stayed quiet, one big hand coming up to steady you by the waist so you wouldn’t fall.
you kept talking, words spilling out easily now that someone was listening.
“we broke up because i thought he didn’t care enough but… he used to do the sweetest things. like bringing me coffee before class or letting me play with his hair even when he acted all tough about it.” you sighed softly. “i think i messed up. i still wear his hoodie to sleep sometimes.”
his grip on your waist tightened just a little.
“you’re drunk,” he murmured.
“super drunk,” you agreed with a little laugh, tilting your head up to look at him again. “but i mean it. he was the best. made me feel safe even when he was quiet and scary. you kinda look like him, it’s weird.”
sukuna let out a quiet breath that sounded almost like a laugh. he guided you through the crowd with a hand on your lower back, taking you upstairs without saying much. you didn’t even question it. his room felt familiar but everything was blurry.
he sat you on the edge of his bed and grabbed a bottle of water, crouching down in front of you so you could drink it. his hand rested gently on your knee the whole time.
“you’re really nice,” you whispered, eyes half closed. “my ex was nice like this too. when nobody else was looking.”
he didn’t answer right away. just brushed some hair out of your face with careful fingers and helped you lie down. when you reached out and grabbed his hand he paused.
“stay?” you asked softly.
sukuna sighed, but it was the soft kind. he sat on the edge of the bed and let you keep holding his hand, thumb rubbing slow circles over your knuckles while you drifted off.
“yeah,” he said quietly, watching you fall asleep in his bed again. “i’m not going anywhere.”
Summary - Jason plans out a whole proposal only to forget everything when he gets down on one knee.
Jason has always been a planner. Even when he was young he took comfort in making a plan. It makes him feel more confident in himself and in his abilities if he can make a plan and at least a dozen contingencies for said plan.
So when it came to him proposing to you he planned it out for months in advance.
You had begun dropping hints after your third anniversary, staring too long at rings in the windows of a jewelry store, making a secret wedding Pinterest board that he found open on accident on your phone, bringing up the future often.
Jason would be an idiot to not see your hints and come hell or high water he was going to make it happen.
So he started planning out the best date and time to propose to you. He probably looked a little crazy to his siblings as he set up a cork board in one of his many safe houses with ideas and dates.
Dick was the only one that thought his planning was sweet, everyone else thought he was stressing out about your answer. And maybe in a different time he would be but after three years of you staying and reassuring him that you wanted him he was sure that you would say yes.
He had the ring custom made with your anniversary etched on the inside of the band and a garnet in the center alongside two small diamonds. Dick and Roy had helped him pick it out, they argued most of the time but in they end helped, three months before he planned to propose.
There were multiple phone calls from his brother and best friend to hype him up in the two days before he planned to propose. He had outwardly scoffed at them calling him to tell him that you would obviously say yes but inwardly he appreciated the support.
When you walk out of your shared bedroom he almost gets on one knee there. You look radiant and Jason almost forgets his whole plan. He restrains himself because him proposing before dinner wasn’t planned.
First, Jason takes you to the bookshop where you met and has become a semi-frequent date spot.
It’s a small hole in the wall shop that really only people know in the upper east side know about. He knows the owner, an older woman named Meredith whose family had this shop for generations, and she was extremely excited to know that you two were getting engaged. She keeps it a secret for him but does give him a discount on the books you end up buying.
He really enjoys watching you read through the backs of books with a slight pinch between your brows. You eventually end up getting two since you couldn’t decide between them.
After you finish up at the book store he takes you a couple blocks down to an Italian restaurant that he knows is a front for the mafia but makes the best cannolis he has ever had so he lets it slide. You talk about your work, friends and anything else that comes to mind and Jason is happy to watch you talk.
When the check is dropped off by a gruff looking guy who gives Jason a knowing smile you reach for it and Jason lightly smacks your hand away from it.
“Nope.” He states simply.
“Jay-” You go to protest with a frown on your face.
“Nope!” His voice increases in volume as he takes the bill away from your hands.
You give him a huff and an eye roll before giving in. Jason feels particularly accomplished as he walks up to pay the bill.
Once the bill is settled Jason leads you back to your building and up to the roof.
He had some help decorating the roof since he was with you for most of the day. Steph and Cass had taken point on that because Steph had told him that his taste was tragic, Cass had agreed before pulling out Bruce’s credit card that she swiped off of him somehow.
“Jason.” You gasp softly at the lit up rooftop decorated with pillows and blankets for stargazing. “This is beautiful.”
He runs his hand over the back of his neck in embarrassment, “I just came up with the idea, Steph and Cass set everything up.”
You squeeze his hand softly, “You still thought of it and that’s what matters.”
Jason takes a deep breath, reaching for the ring box in his pocket. “I also have something else.”
You get a confused pinch between your brows that evens out into shock as Jason gets down on one knee.
He goes to say the long speech he had planned, the one where he told you how much you mean to him, how you love him the way he is, how you make him want to live again rather then just survive. Jason had pondered what to say for months.
But now as he look up into your shocked face and teary eyes his brain stutters to a stop.
“Please?” Jason breathes out, no other words in his mind.
“Yes.” You sob and throw yourself into his arms. “Yes! Oh my god Jay. Yes.”
Jason holds you with a smile on his face that’s so wide it hurts because you love him when he has a plan and even when he doesn’t.
Blue’s Notes - Late night update inspired by this post! It’s so Jason that I couldn’t not write it.
restaurant that he knows is a front for the mafia but makes the best cannolis he has ever had so he lets it slide.
I giggled so much at this
No, because out of all people, I can see Jason really doing this. Him giving a whole ass long speech minutes ago and then forgetting the basic four words is so him in this situation. And this is so well written and detailed!!
Love the tiny detail of how dick and roy are there for support but then also fight among each other. Also I wonder if the batfam were there to witness it (since they helped) and after they hear him just utter please, I know for a fact jason is getting teased to oblivion.
tangentwithtanner
stormborns
