FIVE TIMES
requested | by @haven-is-happy pairing | dick grayson x gn! reader summary | five times dick's family find him at peace with you
ONE
Richard's window slid open with ease, the well-worn, well-oiled hinges accustomed to the movement from the occupants' own nightly vigilante activities.
Damian's feet hit the carpet softly, his eyes narrowed as he searched the area, guided only by the TV's low lighting.
Soft puppy, paws pad over to him, Haley's tail wagging hard enough to shake her little body as she waited for pats. Kneeling, Damian gladly obliged, lavishing the dog with attention before he stood, holding her in his arms.
"Where are your owners?" He softly asked, scratching between Haley's ears. She whuffed softly, nosing toward the couch Damian was already moving toward.
Reaching for the remote to turn off the unused television, Damian freezes at the sight that greets him from the couch. It's Dick, cuddled into your chest beneath a pile of fuzzy blankets. One of your hands is threaded in his hair, the other resting gently on the back of Dick's neck.
His brother's face is half obscured by a bicep, his arms curled possessively around you, but Damian thinks he's never seen Dick so at peace.
Suddenly, the disagreement he'd had with father doesn't seem so significant, not if it meant waking you two.
TWO
Jason's boots hit the floor with a thud, not bothering to contain the groan as he squeezes through your window. It's not exactly built for a man of his size to utilise. Still, he manages to crawl through without falling face-first onto the floor, so Jason counts that as an absolute win.
Dick's apartment is hardly Jason's first choice, but it's closer than any of his safe houses. He doesn't need Nightwing's help, just the supplies that Jason's not too stubborn to admit will stop him from bleeding out in the very immediate future.
Kicking the coffee table accidentally, Jason curses silently. Dick's a light sleeper; they all are, and the last thing he needs right now is his wanna be big brother fretting over him. He freezes, listening out for any sudden changes in the previously still atmosphere, ready to make a sudden break for it if necessary.
When seconds pass, and there's no hint of movement from the bedroom, Jason assumes he's safe, continuing on his well-practised route through the space.
It's decorated, lived in, filled to the brim with photos and trinkets. Your influence, no doubt. He's seen it all before, in the previous instances just like this one (that have happened more times than he cares to admit), but one of the photos on the side table makes him pause.
The frame is new, but the image isn't — him, Dick and Bruce — one of the very few (if only) taken of them all together before he'd... well—
"Jason?" Your voice is soft, groggy, and a little confused from the leftover sleep in your system, but it surprises him nonetheless, only years of training preventing him from dropping the framed photo he hadn't even realised he'd picked up.
Swivelling, his eyes narrow behind the domino mask as he locates the outline of your form emerging from a fluffy blanket on the couch, "What are you... Are you alright?"
Generally, by now you'd be up and by his side, (You fret over him more than the strange new version of Dick that Jason's still not 100% sure isn't an imposter,) but it doesn't take him long to realise the reason you're still.
Dick is passed out, slumbering unaware, curled around you like an octopus. Peaceful. It's an alien scene, one that Jason is increasingly uncomfortable looking at, something unfamiliar lodging in his chest.
"Jason?" You call again, worry staining your tone and looking like you're ready to try and move, to dislodge his limpet of a brother at his lack of response.
"I'm fine, just needed a place to crash." His voice is soft, unsure, now that he's been thrown off balance. Now, more than ever feeling like an intruder upon sacred ground. "Go back to sleep, yeah?"
You squint at him, the silent stare off dragging uncomfotably long for Jason's tastes until you relax, seemingly finding something in his countenance.
"Mkay, the spare room's set up for you. You can use it, but only if you stay for breakfast."
You're already slipping back into the dark embrace of sleep, completely unbothered by his presence. It's that nonchalant show of trust that leaves Jason reeling more than anything, but he thinks he's beginning to understand how Dick sleeps so easily by your side.
THREE
Tim's a skilled combatant, for all that people underestimate him; he's no slouch when it comes to a fight. But more than that, he's a detective, one of the greatest in the world.
That's why, for the life of him, Dick doesn't understand why his little brother is still here, in his apartment, ruining his date with you. He's been lobbing increasingly less subtle hints Tim's way for nearly hours now.
Your cozy movie night in has long since been killed with no hope of resuscitation. Tim's dragged you and Dick into working on a case alongside him well into the late hours of the night.
He'd barged in like he owned the place, eating the food you'd made for Dick! Stealing the attention that belonged to him! Transforming your wall into his own personal murder board, like he didn't have one back in the cave.
Now you were struggling to stay awake, head resting on Dick's chest, legs thrown over his thighs as you stared at a file he wasn't entirely sure you were reading.
Not even five minutes passed before your breathing evened out, hands slackening as the file slipped uselessly onto his lap, as you succumbed to sleep.
Gently shifting you so you're in a more comfortable position, one that won't leave your back screaming bloody murder in the morning, Dick feels his own eyelids begin to droop and decides that a few minutes' rest won't hurt.
Oblivious to the state of his now-sleeping companions, Tim held a file out toward Dick. "Hey, could you take a look at this and—" He paused at the lack of response, looking up when the weight of the file in his hand wasn't taken.
"Dick, did you—" Oh.
He stares, a little mesmerised at the sight of you asleep in his brother's arms. At the sight of Dick, looking more contented than Tim can ever recall seeing him, nuzzling closer to you in his sleep.
Tim supposed the rest could wait until tomorrow.
FOUR
Cassandra adores you. Dick had once jokingly pouted that his sister loved you more than him, and Cass, well, she hadn't exactly denied it.
It wasn't that she loved you more, per se, but it was a different kind of appreciation. You never once looked at her as if she were broken or defective. Cass was aware she made people uneasy, but you never did. Even when she silently appeared from the shadows in a way that tended to make people jump.
But beyond that, you made Dick happy. Her brother would gush to anyone who'd listen about how spectacular, fantastic, amazing you were, and he meant every word.
Some would accuse him of hamming it up, but Cassandra knew the truth because body language never lies. Dick Grayson was so irrevocably, pathetically in love with you.
So, when Cass comes to pick you up for a girls' day out, only to find you snuggled up together on the couch, she's not all that mad. Patrol had been particularly rough last night, and it was only natural that Dick would seek comfort in your arms.
Likely still keyed up from last night, Dick's eyes slid open when he sensed Cass's presence, body tensing until he registered who'd intruded in his space.
Cass smiled in amusement, eyes softening as she raised her hands so Dick could see. 'Don't ruin this one.' She signed, making Dick huff.
Careful not to wake you, he moved so Cass could see him better before mouthing, "Wouldn't dream of it."
FIVE
To say you were nervous was putting it lightly. You'd met Batman before, had worked with him plenty of times too, but that was before you were dating his son.
You liked to think he didn't hate you at least, but this dinner would be your first time meeting Bruce Wayne, and you wanted him to like you.
Sensing your inner turmoil, Dick tries to make a joke, "Relax, babe, Batman doesn't like anyone," which has you pausing in your stride to glare at him.
"Putting aside that I need your dad to like me if we're going to have any sort of future, that's blatantly untrue; he likes Barry."
"What?" It's Dick's turn to raise a brow as you scoff.
"I know you have Superbat dreams, but I'm telling you, Flash is his favourite!"
Dick paused, a faraway look in his eyes as if he were suddenly recontextualising every interaction he'd ever witnessed between the two heroes. "Let's table that for now."
Entwining your fingers with his, Dick tugs you closer, using his free hand to cup your cheek. "I promise, Bruce likes you."
The nerves still lingered, but with Dick by your side, dinner ended up being... nice. Sure, Bruce asked enough questions to make it feel like an interrogation, but you saw it for what it was: an attempt to get to know his son's new partner.
"As bad as you thought it would be?" Dick teased, laughing when you chucked a pillow at him before sliding under the covers beside you.
Settling your head on his chest, it doesn't take long for you to succumb to the effects of sleep. With Dick by your side, it rarely does, even in foreign environments like his childhood bedroom in Wayne Manor.
Meanwhile, Bruce had made his way toward his son's room, feeling slightly guilty for wanting to interrupt your time together, but he needed help on patrol tonight.
"Dick, I'm sorry but—" Bruce paused in the doorway, gaze softening at the sight of his son nestled comfortably beneath the blankets with you.
He takes a few moments to absorb the picture before him, soaking in the sight of his eldest son so at peace, before quietly turning to leave.
Patrol could wait for tonight.
(+ ONE)
You were going to skin him alive. He was three hours later than he had promised. You'd forgive him once he explained the situation — a kidnapped child — but that didn't assuage the sliver of guilt in his heart.
Not long after you'd started dating, Dick had accidentally confided that he slept better by your side. You'd spoiled him, and now he could barely get a wink of sleep if you weren't next to him. He'd nearly been embarrassed by the display of vulnerability until you'd admitted you felt the same.
Your job often left you exhausted after working long hours, and still, on the nights you didn't patrol together, you'd always wait up for him without fail.
Apologies are already falling from his tongue as he slips through the window, only to taper off as he registers the sight waiting for him. You've found some company while waiting for him, it seems, as a plate of what was likely Dick's dinner sits empty on the coffee table, and Damian's stolen his spot by your side, the two of you dead asleep beneath the fuzzy blanket.
It's an adorable sight, one that has him reaching for his phone speedily to record the momentous occasion.
He manages to take a few photos before he's startled by the sudden realisation: if Damian's sleeping by your side, where's he supposed to sleep?
It's not all that cute anymore, and for the first time, Dick contemplates enacting a strictly 'no Waynes allowed' policy for his apartment. He's glad you're getting along with his brother, truly, but those cuddles are his goddammit!
Unfortunately, staring at the protective hold you have on Damian, Dick doubts he could keep them away even if he wanted to.
