#Nightwing oneshot

[sleepyangelkami]

Hello, I just wanted to say that I loved what you wrote about Dick Grayson, I hope you continue to write more about him, I love him so much.

CALLER ID d.grayson

 ☆ WORD COUNT - 3K

DICK GRAYSON X FEM!READER

 ☆ SUMMARY - when dick was on patrol, he got an unexpected message from you. however, no matter how hard you try to brush him off, your boyfriend always seems to know when there's a problem and what to do about it.

 ☆ WARNINGS - mentions of violence, jason's attitude problem, crying, reader has insomnia, petnames, use of 'good girl' (non-sexual), intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

patrol was so slow tonight.

it was times like these where dick dazed off at something he couldn't quite make out, a far away building or even something in the sky. his thoughts drifted to you, his sweet girlfriend that had barely whined when he removed her arms from around him, stating that he just had to get to patrol. however, as soon as he was heading out the door, suited up, you'd rolled over and fell back to sleep.

dick loved everything about you, from your sweet personality down to the way you look in his shirts. and boy, did it take him a lot to be able to leave you alone when you looked so pretty in one of his white shirts.

he hadn't even realised that he'd been swinging his escrima sticks around, literally yawning while waiting for someone or something to come out. he was only itching for a fight. "chill out." came from the snappy jason who was leaning against the wall, a literal book in his hands. "you're gonna take someone's fuckin' eye out with that thing."

"are you reading, little wing?" a smirk quirked on his face even from behind the mask. he couldn't help but find it amusing that while waiting for someone to come along to bash their head into the concrete ground, jason had stopped for a little reading time.

but jason seemed in no mood for any games. "fuck off." it was apparent that he didn't want to be here from the start, grumpy as ever and losing enough sleep as it was but sheesh. dick had to roll his eyes, wondering if his brother should just get a lobotomy or something. he wondered if jason would be happier, less snippy. he wondered if jason would stare at him like a dead corpse walking, though he had to question was that better than the stinking attitude that he used now.

the sound of a ding! from his phone caused him to pull it out.

little love do you know what time you'll be home? read, just now.

dick glanced to the time on his phone, it read three thirty. one problem, you had work at six.

dickie!! i'm not sure darling everything okay? read, just now.

with nervousness seeping into his veins, he watched as your text message bubbles appeared, disappeared, appeared again, disappeared again and finally appeared again.

little love im okay be safe, love you read, just now.

but for dick, that simply wasn't enough.

he glanced to jason who didn't so much as look up from the cream coloured pages.

then, dick glanced out to the open streets of gotham, filled with... nothingness. it was one of those nights where nothing happened and they sat positioned on the rooftop of the tallest building in all of gotham. i mean, nothing had happened all night so surely, jason would be fine on his own, right?

before thinking, dick's fingers were pressing against the screen, typing up your contact and then pressing the phone to his ear. this caught jason's attention however dick merely walked further away so that he wouldn't be able to hear their conversation. although, he didn't seem too interested, rolling his eyes, presumedly of the fact that he was merely jealous that grayson had love and he was stuck reading a romance book, then looking back down at the pages and flicking one over.

it wasn't until the fourth ring that he heard the echo from your side. "hey, baby." he muttered tiredly, just knowing you were there was a kind of relief.

"hi." he heard your voice through the phone but you didn't seem as chirpy as normal. if anything, there was a slight sniffle to your tone, as though you'd been crying.

it didn't take a vigilante to figure that much out. he assumed that was why you'd taken so long to answer, trying to stop yourself from sounding all sniffly. but even if you had, dick still knew you better than anyone else in gotham. "it's late." he spoke, kicking a pebble against the ground. "why're you up?"

then he heard it, those dreadful two words that had you tearing up at the mere thought of it. "can't sleep." and dick knew that it wasn't just the type of 'can't sleep' due to the fact that you were on your phone or too engrossed in a book or tv show. it was the type that screamed at him right in the face.

your insomnia.

dick had found out about your insomnia before you were even officially together. he remembered seeing you all down so much, eyes half lidded as you stared at the glass of water in front of you, looking at it as though it were a science experiment. at first, when you walked in looking like that he assumed it was because you were upset about something. and dick being the respectful gentleman that he was, he chose not to ask about it as he didn't see it fit to be his place. however, when you came rubbing your temple, placing your head on the table he soon realised it was much more than that.

the insomnia you suffered with was enough to bring you to tears, as it was now.

"oh, baby." his tone turned soft, ready to comfort. "have you tried the weighted blanket, hm?" that always seemed to help when he wasn't there to wrap you up.

unfortunately, you only made a displeased sound. "mmh, too warm." where dick was standing, the heavy breeze on his shoulders, he wished it was he that was too warm rather than the cold that enveloped him now.

either way, he still pitied you, cooing softly. "i'll be right there." he spoke through the phone but before you could protest, he was speaking again. "I love you."

he couldn't see you, but he could imagine the soft look coming over your features. "I love you too but―"

"see you soon, m'love."

and you were cut off.

he turned to jason who was still with his back against the wall, stupid book in his hands. "the missus alright?" he spoke boredly, still flicking the page as though he had no actual interest in dick's love life.

but dick knew better than that. as disinterested as he may have liked to look, dick knew he secretly liked you, and that was a fact. jason never liked the girls dick dated, never liked much to do with dick but you, he knew you were good for him. "yes but i have a favour." and by the time he was looking up from the book, dick was already giving him them big begging eyes.

he rolled his eyes, turning over the corner of the page. many believe that turning the corners is destroying them, jason would have to beg to differ, it was loving them. "what is it?"

"patrol is slow tonight."

"it is."

"do me this one favour, little wing, please?"

"say it."

"you really like destroying my pride, don't you?"

"It's a little entertaining, yes."

and so that was how the man had rid himself of the nightly patrol. dick didn't like asking for favours nor did he do it often. perhaps that was why jason had let him off so easily this time. or perhaps it was because he knew that dick would soon owe him the same favour in response. 

whatever the case, dick still found himself jogging down the street, your guys’ shared home on wide display. he couldn’t help but smile at the mere sight of it. thinking about it just made his heart swell, you and him, in your very own home. dick didn’t particularly believe in fairytales but if he did, this was sure to be one of them.

he pushed open the front door, taking in the silence that hung heavy in the house but the various lights that you’d left on, a god awful habit. usually, he’d great you with that funny, playful “honey, i’m home!” holding his jacket and bag out, waiting for you to come running into his arms, wrapping your legs around him and holding onto him as though you would never let him go on patrol again.

sometimes, he wished he could give you that.

it was no surprise that you were innocent to the world. you hadn’t seen nor faced the dangers he had, you hadn’t looked death in the eye like him. and for that, he was glad. your soul was too pretty to get scarred. 

instead of the usual playfulness, he merely mulled his bag over towards the living room door, deciding to leave it there until morning. It was filled with his nightwing costume along with his weapons and so on. but dick didn’t believe in carrying that around you. more often than not, he’d leave it somewhere along the door so that he could hide it in the back of his wardrobe when you were busy.

of course, you knew he was nightwing but that didn’t mean he wanted to toss around that danger around you.

he shuffled the shoes off of his feet, now clad in a grey hoodie along with a black sweatpants. the person he was when he wasn’t dressing as a bird.

he was careful not to make too much noise along the stairs to scare you but enough that you could hear he was home, so you were prepared to face him. “baby?” he called out after making the stairs creak, just so you didn’t fear it was someone else out there and not your beloved boyfriend.

instead of a response, he heard a sniffle coming from the bedroom. 

peeling the door open, he stuck his head inside, fluffy black hair peeking in to see you sat atop the bed, grey sheets surrounding you as you sniffled, pathetically. but it didn’t make dick judgemental, when had dick ever been judgemental towards you? instead, his features turned soft.

“hey, hey.” barely in the door and he was already soothing you, though would he really have it any other way? “wh’s the matter?” though he already knew the matter, however that didn’t stop him from sitting himself on the bed, allowing you to wrap your legs around him, sitting atop his lap.

the temperature of the house and the hot skin of your legs was enough to tell him why you’d been so warm.

instead of responding, you sniffled and cried like the crybaby you were. but that was okay, dick didn’t mind having you as his personal crybaby as long as it was he who was wiping away your tears. 

his nose nudged your cheek, attempting to see your face but you only shoved it further into the crook of his neck, not truthfully wanting to face him though how badly you ached for his comfort. “c’mon, lemme see my pretty girl, hm? wanna see your pretty face.” 

the way his hands felt against your waist and your thighs, soothing the plush skin as if trying to coax you to look at him. and it worked, the tenderness that he used and the way everything seemed so… possible. you finally managed to pull your tear-stained face from the crook of his neck, looking at him with that pretty pout of yours.

and didn’t his heart just melt?

even when you were full of tears with a large pout implanted on your mouth, you were still the prettiest girl he’d ever seen. his thumbs were already making a move to soothe your under eyes, wiping away your pretty tears, like diamonds down your cheeks. “there she is, atta girl.” the way he praised you was enough to have your cheeks turning pink, even in your state. 

dick always knew how to fix every problem. 

he was like bob the builder only he was repairing your damaged feelings and little broken heart.

but as much as dick loved taking care of you, his heart did break a little at your tears. your cheeks were passed stained, tears collecting in your under eyes and trickling down your cheeks, softly yet the sniffles still emitted from you. you were his girl, he’d do just about anything to please you and truthfully, seeing you hurt… hurt.

“tell me what i can do.” he whispered against the warm air of the room. he wanted to fix this, he wanted to make sure you slept well but most importantly, he wanted to make sure you didn’t have to cry like this again. “did you take the melatonin?” you nodded your head. “will i make you some tea? run you a bath?” 

you’d been to hundreds of sleep specialists, doctors, so on.

everyone always gave you in around the same ideas. they’d tell you to work out before you went to bed but that was the thing they didn’t understand, it wasn’t because you weren’t physically tired that you couldn’t sleep, you were exhausted. yet it was your mind that couldn’t seem to rest. they’d tell you drink some camomile tea and you’d be on the mend, that was seven years ago.

you sniffled, looking at the one thing that had ever made it easy for you to sleep.

him. 

“jus’ want you.” you mumbled out, thinking you sounded rather selfish. I mean, would anyone disagree? it was unlikely. you’d pulled your boyfriend out of patrol in the middle of the night just so he could help you sleep. you felt downright awful.

but dick? no, his heart was only melting right in front of you, as though you’d just told him that you were adopting a bunny and naming it after him (that’d given you an idea for later). “I’m right here, honey.” he pulled you back towards him again, his hands rubbing up and down your back ever so gently, enough to have you turning to putty at the feeling of his finger tips. 

you sniffled, eventually pulling away and using your arm to wipe your face. “what time is it?” you questioned, now realising that you hadn’t so much as glanced towards a clock in… you weren’t sure how long, you kind of needed a clock to tell those kinds of things. 

his fingers were gently tracing across the softness of your cheek, brushing the loose strands of your hair behind your ear, like they did in those romantic movies. “‘s almost four, m’love.” 

you practically whined at that. “i have work soon.” in approximately two hours. you contemplated not sleeping at all. but you knew that whenever you did that, you surely regretted it sooner rather than later and you’d be taking naps anywhere, through paperwork and in one of those little uncomfortable office chairs.

dick wouldn’t have it. “you’re not going.” he stated briskly to which your brows furrowed. “angel, i’m not leaving you leave the house like this, alright? we both know i make more than enough to support us both until our old age and i know you want to work, that’s okay, but i’m not going to have you breaking your back for minimum wage, got it?” 

slowly, you nodded your head with your teeth wrapping over your bottom lip. “got it.” you mumbled, all flustered.

dick couldn’t help but grin. “good girl.” he then tapped the inside of your thigh. “come on, into bed.” 

and how could you refuse when he spoke to you in that tone that told you whatever he said, goes. whether he was telling you to get outside right now and fly a kite or suggesting bungee jumping in the morning, what did it matter? 

you nodded your head before climbing into the dark grey sheets. you and dick took turns picking the sheets. on his weeks, he’d choose those grey, dark coloured sheets, sometimes black, rarely blues. you always went with pale pink ones or those pretty white ones with little flowers, hearts or so on engraved in it.

you were sure that any pattern on white made your heart just swell.

dick climbed into the bed after you, switching off the lamp light on his way and laying across the comfortable mattress. he helped you move so that your head was positioned on his chest, listening to his lulling breaths and heartbeats, slowly rising and falling as your head moved along with it.

“I dragged you out of patrol.” you mumbled into the dark only moments after the light had been switched off.

dick brushed you off, though he knew that the worry could eat you from the inside and out, like a worm with an apple, rotting it the entire way through, never knowing when to stop. he never blamed you, of course, but sometimes he did curse that beautiful, intricate mind of yours, hoping one day it would decide to treat you a little better. “it was a slow night.” 

you could invision jason all alone, though when you tried to imagine it all you could think of was him either flirting or doing some kind of a ‘dirty talk’ with the enemy, unintentionally of course. everything he said had sort of a flirty tone to it, even with a blood covered face and uttering a death threat, perhaps it was because he’d still somehow manage to slip a petname in. “i’m sor―”

but before you could get the sentence out, his arms were wrapping around your own. “shh, shh.” mumbling as he shook you gently, as though you were a baby. “don’t apologise, princess.” 

you found yourself sighing, snuggling yourself into him as your eyes began to droop, feeling awful heavy, with a yawn, your mouth parted. “you know, i’ve been to so many doctors…” your voice extra low as he could tell the tiredness was taking over your feeble body. “‘n they give me the… worst ideas ever. one of them even told me i should get a treadmill and put it in my room.” he huffed out an airy chuckle. “think i finally found the medicine.” 

his brows furrowed. if you’d had a medicine, how come you weren’t taking it? how come you still lay awake at night when he wasn’t there? “what’s that?” 

poor, oblivious, stupid dick. 

“you.” 

main masterlist/dick's masterlist

[captainsophiestark]

Comfort

Dick Grayson x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)

Fandom: DC

Summary: The vigilante couple that takes care of each other after a bad patrol night stays together.

Word Count: 1,173

Category: Fluff, Comfort (after Hurt, but the hurt's not in the fic)

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I winced as my boyfriend, Dick Grayson, dabbed antiseptic against the cut on my arm. It needed to be done, and I was glad I didn't have to do it myself, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt.

"Sorry," Dick said, his voice soft. I leaned into him.

"It's ok. Thank you for helping."

"You might not want to thank me until we're done stitching this up. I'll do my best to be gentle, but... it probably won't feel great no matter what."

I gave him a weak smile, then let my head drop to rest on his shoulder. He held my injured arm gently in his lap, taking care not to move it more than he had to.

"I think you get the thank you no matter what. Especially since I'd have to try to do this myself if I didn't have you here to help me."

Dick just hummed, and I tried to focus on him and his comforting warmth as he moved to start on the stitches. Being a vigilante was absolutely brutal sometimes, thanks to moments and injuries like this. Especially since we couldn't usually go get treated as our civilian identities, lest it lead to some very awkward questions. But we were doing good, important work, and we were doing it together. Despite the worst days, I wouldn't trade this life for anything, and I knew Dick felt the same.

I focused on taking deep breaths through my nose as Dick worked. I clenched the hand of my non-injured arm, working on keeping the injured one still. Between stitches, Dick muttered comforting words, the tone and timbre of his voice near my ear keeping me as calm as anything else. I lost track of time, zoning out of the moment to focus on breathing and the man beside me.

Finally, Dick let out a sigh and sat back, moving one arm from my wound to around my shoulders. I sighed, leaning further into his chest, finally able to move the arm he'd been working on now that it was all stitched and bandaged.

"You still feeling okay?" he asked, rubbing small circles with his thumb against my good arm. I sighed and nodded.

"As okay as I can feel, considering everything. Thanks again for patching me up."

"You know I'm always happy to take care of you. I'm just sorry you needed it in the first place."

"Eh." I shrugged. "Life of a vigilante."

"Yeah," Dick sighed, sounding a little more melancholy than I'd been expecting. We stayed like that for a few long moments, laying against each other and enjoying the peace after a sketchier-than-usual night of fighting crime.

Finally, Dick sighed again, more as a transition than a lament this time.

"Alright, we both need to eat something, and then get some rest. Anything sound particularly good to you?"

"...I don't know if my heart can take the adventure that is your attempt at cooking on top of the night we've already had."

"I was planning to order in, but it's nice to be reminded that you have no faith at all in my culinary ability."

I just smiled and leaned into him.

"You know I love you, but you also know Jason spilled about the time you managed to burn cereal. I don't think there's a lot of hope for coming back from that, babe."

Dick laughed, pulling me even closer to him, the slightly heavier mood now completely gone.

"I guess that's fair. But one of these days, I'm going to secretly take a cooking class, and then I'll prove you all wrong."

I just hummed. "Take me with you when you do it. A cooking class sounds fun."

Dick chuckled and leaned down to place a soft kiss on my forehead.

"It's a deal. Now come on, let's get you settled in on the couch so we can order something good."

I sighed, but shifted my weight off of Dick. I moved to push myself up to standing, but before I could get very far, Dick shot up next to me and swept me into his arms. I laughed, throwing my arms around his neck in surprise as he carried me towards the living room.

"You're too injured to walk," he said, a grin on his face despite his words. "Doctor's orders, you need to be carried."

"Pretty sure it was just my arm that got really hurt. Some bruises and other injuries on my torso. Legs ended up being pretty okay."

"Mmm, no, I'm pretty sure I'm right."

He set me down on the couch with a flourish, then sat and shifted me around so my legs laid across his lap. He sighed and picked up his phone, taking care of takeout while I got my arm in a comfortable position and stared at the angel of a man that I got to call my boyfriend.

"Alright, food should be here in about twenty minutes," he announced, setting his phone down in triumph. "I vote we watch a movie or something while we wait and eat, then go to bed."

"I have one suggested addition to the plan."

"Yeah?"

"I want to reserve the right for us to change the plan and fall asleep here instead of going to bed."

Dick raised an eyebrow and made a big show of looking me up and down, spending a little extra time evaulating my arm and its position. Then, finally, he met my eyes again.

"You sure your arm's gonna be okay if we stay here?"

I shrugged. "Pretty sure. I've put worse stitching through more strenuous and dangerous activities than a couch nap before."

Dick grinned, his blue eyes sparkling as he wrapped an arm over the top of my thighs and pulled me closer to him.

"I don't know. I've heard couch naps can be pretty perilous."

"As long as neither of us rolls off the thing, I feel pretty good about our chances."

He hummed, pulling me even further onto his lap. "We should probably cuddle pretty closely, then. To keep each other safe from falling off this thing."

"Makes sense to me," I said, grinning and turning to lean into Dick. "Safety precautions are important."

He huffed a laugh, then finally stretched out on the couch alongside me, shifting us both so I was half laying on his chest. I could hear the constant comforting beat of his heart through his shirt, and I swear, my blood pressure instantly dropped.

"What are we gonna do when the food gets here?" I groaned, already halfway asleep. The last of the adrenaline had finally faded now that I was here, happy, comfortable, and safe with my favorite person in the world, and I could feel how quickly I was losing the battle with sleep.

"Don't worry," Dick muttered, gently running his hand up and down my back. "I'lll take care of it. You just get some rest."

I hummed, intending to say something else to him, but the exhaustion rooted into my bones and I couldn't keep myself up. I drifted off on his chest, his arms wrapped tightly around me, perfectly safe and content with the love of my life.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen @misshale21

DC Taglist: @gaychaosgremlin @v1ckycheesue @lavender-dinos @g0atmansbridge182

[a1307s]

Flickers of Green #1

(Dick Grayson & Jason Todd)

[Art is not mine! Credit to jjmk-jjmk]

Requested by: quirkyshortdumbo11

Keys:

Y/N: Your Name

H/C: Hair Color

E/C: Eye Color

Word Count: 6,297

Warnings and/or Pre-Notes:

Implement of rape

Mentions of Death/Blood

Cursing

———————————————————————

     No, no, no, no, no! I rush through the rubble, pushing through every and anything in my way. After six months of searching, six months of watching the Joker beat them, six months of watching what he's done to her, six months of nothing but them in my thoughts they can't be in here. Jason can't be in there. Y/N can't be in there. They can't be dead because of me.

     My lungs scream as I breathe in the ash and smoke, but I can't let it stop me. I have to find them. I have to find my robins. I have to find my robins alive.

     Despite my pleas to all the gods I don't believe in, I don't get them answered. I push over part of the fallen ceiling, my worst nightmares coming alive once I get it moved. Jason is curled up around Y/N, clinching her to his chest, even in death. Their blood mixes, soaking into their suits, into the rumble, and Y/N's beautiful hair. The same beautiful hair I tied a bow into the last morning I saw her.

     "Master Bruce?" Alfred calls through the coms. "Progress report?" His voice cracks at the second word, squeezing my heart even more.

     "I've... they've been located." I'll never forgive myself for this, but Dick's grudge against me will still last longer.

—————————

     I don't even know why I agreed to this. I swore off Batman, Gotham, fucking Bruce two years ago. Yet, here I am, looking over the stupid citizens of Gotham as he licks his wounds. I know why I'm doing it; because Alfred asked, because Alfred didn't want Bruce on patrol with an injury, because I can't say no to Alfred.

     Bruce's newest Robin is perched up on the ledge next to me as he rattles on about something. I don't know what he's saying or even care. I know I shouldn't hate the kid; Bruce's actions aren't his fault but what the fuck Bruce? Jason and... their blood wasn't even shed yet, and Bruce had replaced them. Replaced them with this kid that won't fucking shut up. "A part of being stealthy is being quiet," I hiss out, my words dipped in venom more than I intended them to.

     "Oh, right, sorry," Tim mumbles, obeying orders and falling silent. I close my eyes before taking a few deep breaths, making sure to exhale slowly to calm myself. "Nightwing-"

     "Quiet," I hiss again, trying to focus on my breathing so I don't misplace any more of my anger onto this kid.

     "Ya, I know, but-"

     "Robin! What? What's so important?" I bark at him, snapping my eyes open and turning towards him.

     "I think there's someone following the lady down there," he whispers, pointing towards the sidewalk across from us.

     "What?" I ask, snapping my eyes towards the direction he's pointing. He's right, a younger-looking woman is walking down the street, her skirt flowing around her legs as she walks, her long dress coat doing the same. Hidden in the shadows a couple steps behind the girl is a big figure. They slither behind the girl, making sure to keep pace with them. "I'm going to investigate, you stay up here as backup," I mumble, getting to my feet as I think of how to sneak up on the stalker.

     "Yes, Sir!" Tim chirps, skirring to his feet to follow me along the rooftops.

     "Don't call me sir," I order, before letting myself fall from the roof we've been perched on. I land gently on my feet, standing up to glance around, keeping track of the shadows and which ones will be best to hide in.

     "Yes, Si- er - Nightwing," Tim starts over the coms before correcting himself. "What's the plan?"

     The plan is to get it through the citizens of Gotham's heads not to walk around the streets at night. "I'm going to follow them on ground level in case the suspect makes any rash movements. You follow along on the rooftops. Make sure to stay silent and keep pace. Do not move unless I say so."

     "Okay," Tim mumbles, pokes of his red suit coming in and out of view as he creeps along the ledges. I keep myself engulfed in shadows stretching out from the walls.

     "Once the lady is safe somewhere I'll take action to get this guy off the street. Got it?"

     "Got it," he calls over the coms again, ducking behind a vent as he waits for me to catch up a bit. So much for staying on pace. Despite Tim's eager steps, I stay parallel to the subjects, the only thing suppurating us is the thin street. Or at least I do until the lady turns around a corner.

     Her stalker follows, the corner streetlight exposing him for a second as he jumps between shadows. He's a bigger guy, easily over six feet and having anywhere from fifty to seventy-five pounds on me. It's impressive that he manages to stay hidden so well. Almost Batman impressive. From the glimpse I got, I also managed to see a red helmet covering his face which doesn't help me much to identify the culprit.

     "That's not good," Tim mumbles over the intercom, his voice laced with worry. "That's the Red Hood."

     "Red Hood? Is that the crime lord that's been piling up bodies faster than the Joker?" I whisper back, annoyance filling me up. So much for Alfred's 'it should be an easy night' speech.

     "Ya, that's the one," he answers, the worry only building up more in his tone. I stay tucked on the corner of the street, making sure this Red Hood guy isn't looking before I dart across the street. I make quick - but silent - paces as I sneak up on him. I need to jump in before this lady becomes his next victim.

     "Are you in place?" I ask, glancing up for a quick second to make sure the sidekick made it across the street too.

     "Yes."

     "Okay, change of plans, we can't wait this out and act later." Tim stays silent, waiting for my orders. "The next alley we pass, I'm going to pull him into it to take him down. The lady will scurry off as I handle it. As she's running off you tail her and make sure she gets somewhere safe, got it?"

     The line stays silent for a while before Tim's voice peeps up, "Yes, sorry, got it. I forgot you couldn't see me nod." What the hell kid? You've been Robin for almost three years now and you still make beginner mistakes.

     I shake the thought out of my head, focusing on the situation in front of me. The next alley is about five paces in front of the lady, making it about ten for the Hood guy and fifteen for me. I quicken my steps some, ending up right behind him as he passes the alley. I grab a hold of the man, tugging him to the right. Hood skids, his weight playing against him and causing him to fall hard. The silent street is filled with the sound of his helmet clashing with metal.

     "What the hell?!" The guy yells, quickly jumping back onto his feet. "Fucking Nightwing," he mumbles, shaking his head before stepping towards me.

     "Hood," I call back, lifting my fists to prepare myself and to cover my face.

     "Nightwing!" Tim calls over the com.

     "Not right now," I hiss, ducking as Red Hood swings at me.

     "Just move aside Wing, it's not what you think," Hood shouts, going to swing at me again. 

     I duck again, going for his feet as I'm down here. "You're a notorious killer chasing after a girl, what else am I supposed to think?" He sees through my attack a little late, managing to avoid falling but he stumbles. He falls against one of the dumpsters causing the alleyway to be filled with a loud crack again, but this time it's paired with the screeching of his gun barrels sliding against the dumpster.

     "Nightwing!" Tim calls again causing anger to boil in me.

     "You're supposed to be tailing the lady," I answer back, pulling my Escrima sticks off my back as I approach my newest sparring partner.

     "I am, she's heading-" Tim starts, but I don't catch the rest of his sentence. While I was distracted with the newest Robin, Red Hood ducked down and swiped my feet out from under me. Dumb little shit using my tricks against me. He starts walking towards me pulling his gun out of its holster as he nears.

     "What do I do?" Tim calls, worry laced into his words once again.

     I reach for my nearest stick, debating if I should throw it at his head to buy me time or try another leg sweep. "I don't know Robin, whatever you think is best." I decide on the stick, if it doesn't get me enough time to get up, it'll at least aid me in knocking him over. Hood's gun lowers as he stands over me, the barrel pointed at my forehead.

     I tug my hand forward, setting myself up to throw it at him when I'm cut off. "Lady don't!" Tim's voice screeches out, filling my ears through the com as well as echoing through the alleyway.

     "Don't shoot!" A female voice yells, thin fingers wrapping around the barrel of the gun and pushing it away from my head, up towards the sky. Before I know what's going on the alley is filled with the echoes of a bullet being released from it. I stay frozen, my mask going wide as I take in the scene in front of me.

     The lady from earlier is standing next to me, her hand still around the barrel and her arm stretched up as it's pointed into the sky. Her hair is in two buns on top of her head, the H/C color of it reminding me of Y/N's hair; well besides the streak of grey wrapped through her left bun. I don't need to be thinking of Y/N right now, that'll only distract me from saving this lady. "What the fuck is your problem, you daft cow?" The lady yells, ripping the gun out of Hood's hand.

     Daft cow? Okay, this girl or Bruce or even Robin has to be fucking with me. There is no way this random ass woman uses the same insult as Y/N. Much less the same British insult she picked up from Alfred. "Don't stand there and look dumb at me. What do you think you're doing?" She repeats, her hands pointing the gun towards the ground, her fingers nimble as she works to drop the magazine.

     "I... hi," Red Hood spits out, seeming just as lost as me.

     "Hello," the lady answers back, handing the empty gun back to him before turning towards me.  What the fuck? The face looking down at me is the spitting image of Y/N... well a slightly older Y/N. "Here you go," she says kneeling to hand me the magazine.

     My focus stays trapped in her eyes. They're shiny and bright and the same E/C color Y/N's are - were. Y/N's were. Because she's dead. Unlike Y/N's eyes, this girl has flickers of green around her irises. "Thank you?" I say, the words coming out as a question instead of a statement. I sit up, moving slowly towards her to take the magazine being held out to me.

     "You're welcome!" She chirps out with a smile. The same feeling of warmth I get - got - from Y/N's smile fills my chest, loosening some of the knots of stress. "What are you two fighting about anyway?" She asks, standing back up.

     It can't... she's not... "How?" I spit out, skirring to my feet.

     "How what?" Tim asks, appearing at my side.

     Y/N's - she's not Y/N - this lady's face falls as Robin comes into her sight. Her jaw clenches, eyes going hard making the green stand out more. "I got to go," she whispers, her tone throwing imaginary daggers alongside her words.

     She goes to walk past us, but she's stopped by Red Hood grabbing her arm. My hand falls to my belt, my fingertips grazing a bat-a-rang as Tim does the same. "Let... let me walk you home," he whispers, barely loud enough to meet my ears.

     "What the fuck is with all you superheroes?" She asks, shaking off Hood's hold on her as she glances around the three of us. "Two days ago, I had a frantic Batman shoving hundred-dollar bills into my hand. You- " she starts, tossing her hand towards Hood "-have been trailing me for three blocks, you-" her hand shifts from Hood to Robin "make me unbearably angry for god knows why, and you, you fucking daft cow belong in Blüdhaven, not Gotham so why are you here?" Her hands fall to her hips as her right one pops out some. Her eyes are still hard and beautiful, and I so badly want her to be my Y/N. "Are you going to answer me?" She sasses, her head tilting as she looks up at me.

     "I..." My words stick in my throat as I look at her. I lift my hands some, their shaking very noticeably. They don't stop shaking as I place them on her shoulders. She's warm and real and right here. Her eyes soften, shifting to confusion instead of anger. "Y/N?" I finally weasel out.

     "Good guess," she says a smile crossing her face as her hands fall from her sides.

     "Y/N?" I repeat, my heartbeat filling my ears.

     "That's my name, don't wear it out," she teases, shrugging my hands off her shoulders before slipping past me.

     My mind screams at me to walk after her but my body refuses to move. It takes a second for my mind to clear and for my eyes to adjust to the guy standing in front of me. The Hood has barely moved an inch this whole time. "What's next? You going to end up being Jason Todd?" I half-heartedly joke, a broken laugh falling from my mouth.

     Red Hood hums a bit, turning his head in the direction Y/N went. He starts walking that way but ends up shifting to the left instead of the right. Before turning the turned he stops, his head turns, peering over his shoulder at me. "We both know that Y/N being alive isn't the only secret Bruce Wayne is hiding from the world."

     The words cut through me as he disappears. "Should we go after him?" Tim asks, pulling on my sleeve some.

     "We're going back to the Manor," I mumble, turning on my heels. Bruce has a lot of explaining to do.

———————————

     My heart beats loud in my ears as I sit in my patrol car. I tried talking to Bruce about Y/N but he just shut down like he always does. I've kept on his case for the past couple of days but if he doesn't go silent, he starts yelling about nonsense so he's a dead end.

     I talked it over - both Y/N being alive and Jason being the Red Hood - with Alfred. It turns out that Bruce has known about Red Hood being Jason since shortly after the first time they had a run-in. He did some digging and found out the Al Ghuls had a hand in his revival - and his sudden turn to valiance. 

     Also, it turns out that he found out about Y/N two days before we did - like she said. Alfred said that Bruce believes Y/N doesn't remember much from before her death, or at least is pretending not to. Apparently, she had no idea who Batman or Bruce Wayne was. Personally, if I were in her situation, I would pretend not to know who he was too. Since finding out about all this I've been super pissed at Bruce and have refused to talk to him, let alone step foot in Gotham.

     Despite this, the universe has other plans. Gotham was short officers - shorter than usual - so my Captain back in Blüdhaven sent out a group of us to help pick up the slack. The whole time I've been here, I've been on edge. What if I see her again? What if I don't see her again? Being given the job of patrol doesn't help much either. All I get to do is sit here and wait; wait for someone to speed or try to mug someone else or try to do any other minor things. Sitting here and waiting doesn't help my thoughts to stop circling.

     I should talk to Y/N. I need to talk to her. What if she doesn't remember me? What if she does? Is she taking care of herself? How long has she been back in town? Is she alive because of the Laza pit too? If she is alive because of Al Ghul, did she serve time in the League of Assassins like Jason?

     These thoughts aren't any good for me. At least not while I'm on duty. I need to leave the distractions for the small time between being Officer Grayson and being Nightwing. Maybe some coffee would help. I decide to climb out of the cruiser, making sure to lock it before I start walking down the street.

     Around the corner from where I parked is a small twenty-four-seven cafe called Pamela's Cafe. It's always decked out in neon lights that stand out against the cloudy Gotham sky. We - Jason, Y/N, and me - used to go every night after patrol. It's one of the only businesses that have managed not to get burnt down or robbed into bankruptcy because their donuts are Joker's favorite. It's weird when you think about it but hey, at the end of the day, fed people - even villains - are grateful people.

     I round the corner, doing an environment check as I continue the short walk. I look into the cafe's big windows as I walk past them. They seem pretty busy, but I'm not surprised. Their prices are low, their food is good, and milliners and villains alike boast about it.

     The bell above the door jingles as I push the door open. "Welcome in Officer!" One of the workers chirps out. I nod at them, joining the line in front of the register.

     "I still don't understand why there are different colors," A feminine voice pipes up from across the room. It's soft, soft enough not to disturb her neighbors. The voice rings through my head, sounding like bells to my ears.

     A soft sigh follows her words. "The different colors are different element groups. Give me your notebook Y/N." I instantly recognize that voice. It belongs to Scarecrow - well Dr Crane. Before I can stop myself, I'm moving towards the voice. Is it my Y/N? If it is my Y/N, why is she talking to the scarecrow? Why is the scarecrow talking to her? Why the hell are they talking about elements?

     It doesn't take long for the doctor to fall into my view, and in turn, in my pathway. He hasn't changed much from my Robin days. He's still scrawny as ever with thin, dirt-brown hair, and big owl glasses that expand the size of his eyes. "Now, the teal-colored ones are basic metal elements," the doctor starts, bending his head down, probably to write in Y/N's notebook he asked for.

     As I come up to the booth they're sitting in, Y/N - my Y/N - falls into my sight. Her eyes are still a mix of the natural E/C and flickers of green as she turns from the doctor to me. "Hello Officer," she says, a lop-sided smile on her face.

     "How can we help you?" Crane says, standing up from his seat and attempting to squeeze between Y/N and me. It doesn't work very well. I'm a slim man but Scarecrow makes me look like a bodybuilder.

     "I just..." My thoughts escape me as I keep my focus locked on Y/N. "Just wanted to buy Y/N a coffee," I squeeze out, smiling back at her.

     The doctor glances between Y/N and me a few times before turning towards her. "Do you want him to buy you a coffee? I'll make him go away if you don't." Sure, you will, Doc. It's not like I've been whooping your ass since I was nine.

     "I don't mind. It's not very often a hot officer offers to buy me a drink," Y/N teases, propping her head on her hand as she continues to look at me with her loopy smile. She doesn't remember who I am, she doesn't remember who I am, she does not remember who I am.

     Crane looks me over once more before nodding towards Y/N. "I'll stop by later tonight to check over your chem homework, okay?"

     "Mkay," Y/N hums out, pulling her notebook to her side of the table. Scarecrow keeps his eyes locked on us as he slowly walks out of the cafe and continues to until he can no longer peer into the windows. "So, Officer-?"

     "Grayson," I offer, sliding into the booth seat across from her.

     "Bruce Wayne's Grayson?" She asks, curiosity filling her eyes, her head lifting and her fingers lacing together as she stares at me.

     "Ya," I say nervously, glancing around the cafe. "Do you want a coffee?" Of course not, Y/N doesn't like the taste of coffee, she always thought it was-

     "Coffee is too bitter. Do you mind if I get a Vanilla Frappuccino instead?"

     My eyes snap back at her, drinking in her smile, and her hair, and her beautiful eyes. God, her beautiful eyes that are somehow even prettier with the flickers of green mixed in. "Ya that's fine," I mumble, glancing at the line before looking back at her.

     She giggles a bit before propping herself up on the booth. She turns around, scanning the coffee bar. "Hey, Addison?" She calls out, getting a 'wassup?' in response. "Do you mind making me a vanilla frap and-"

     Y/N cuts herself off, looking over her shoulder at me. "Uh... just a black coffee and maybe a donut."

     "- and a black coffee with a chocolate chip muffin?"

     "Do you want me to use your daily discount?" Addison asks, getting another giggle out of Y/N.

     "No, Officer Grayson is buying me a coffee," Y/N responds, her words bubbling out of her. She turns back around, shifting back to a sitting position before talking to me. "You don't want a donut right now. They're way better after their first made so you got to get one either at three a.m. or three p.m. I've never been here at three a.m. but for some reason, I just know they're better than, you know?"

     "Ya, I know," I breathe out, my mind running a mile a minute. Does she remember coming here with me? Does she remember me? Or is it just her conscious knowing that she's supposed to know these things? Is she getting her memories back? How long until she remembers who I am? Who Alfred is? Who Bruce is? Does she remember what the Joker did to her? What he did to Jason? "So..." I peep out, watching her watching me, "Tell me about yourself."

     Y/N hums softly, shifting her eyes around. "I can't really tell you about myself because I don't know myself."

     "What can-"

     "Here you go!" The Addison girl struts over, cutting me off as she sets Y/N's coffee down. "Officer Grayson," she coos, taking her time to set down my coffee and my muffin. "Call me if you need anything, okay?" She adds, continuing her cooing as she gives me my bill.

     I glance down at it. Eight dollars, not too bad for two coffees and a muffin. "As I was saying," I start again, turning towards Y/N, "What can you tell me about yourself?"

     Y/N's a bit distracted, her smile gone and her eyes following the celebrity hopper as she slides back behind the counter. "Um... I hate the taste of coffee."

     I chuckle at that a bit. "Well, ya, I know that already." She turns back towards me, blessing me with the sight of her eyes again. "Do you have a favorite color?" It's orange, dark orange like Wally's hair.

     "I really like orange. Not like sunset orange, I think it's too light. More of a copper orange." My heart pings at her words but I try my best not to let it show on my face. "I don't remember much of... anything," Her voice is soft on the last word. "But I do have a fuzzy memory of the color."

     "Ya? What's the memory?" I push, picking up my cup. When I glance down at it, I see the waitress's number scribbled on it. I hate Gotham.

     Y/N takes a second, closing her eyes as if that'll help clear up her memories. "During it, I was on the beach I think... Maybe just in a pool, I don't know. But I was in a body of water and an older boy - like way older - was holding me. I think he was teaching me how to swim, I don't know," Y/N's eyes snap open, a small smile on her face. "I don't remember much of it; I just know his hair is or was orange and the color makes me feel comfortable." I know what memory she's talking about.

     Bruce took in Y/N when he took in Jason. Jay made it very clear that they were a packaged deal and Bruce didn't mind. He wasn't kidding either. He and Y/N ran the Gotham streets together for half their lives.

     It didn't take long to figure out that neither of them knew how to swim so the team decided to take a day off and go swimming at the Happy Harbor beach. It took most of the day to get Jason unattached from Y/N but somehow Wally managed too.

     Walles took her into the water and kept a hold of her as he swam around and eventually managed to get her to swim a bit on her own. At the time Wally was 20 were as Y/N and Jay were 12 so I'm not surprised she remembers him being so much older than her; it probably felt like that at the time.

     It's one of my favorite memories. It's one I look at every day. I have a picture of Y/N wrapped up in Wally's arms as they're swimming on my desk at work.

     "I have a question, but you don't have to answer it," I say, being careful with my words.

     "It's about my memory loss, ya?" She asks, her smile falling as she sips on her Frappuccino. I hum a yes, watching her body language for a response. I don't want to make her uncomfortable.

     "Well, there's not much to tell. Six months ago, I just... woke up in Gotham Hospital. The doctors say that I probably ended up in the crosshairs of Batman and one of the Gotham goons since I was littered with injuries and had quite a few wounds to my head. They also said I'm suffering from temporary dementia and that my memories will - hopefully - eventually come back."

     "How do you know your name is Y/N?" I ask, trying to push the images and videos from Y/N and Jay's death out of my head.

     "Well, they did a blood test and tested it against Gotham records. Apparently, I used to be quite the troublemaker. When they did my blood test, they found the DNA of some dude named Jason Todd on me. I have no clue who that is but apparently, we used to get into trouble together all the time. I googled him and... well, he's been dead for a couple of years. It turns out he was a ward of Bruce Wayne, just like you. Did you know him?"

     My heart pings again for Y/N. "Ya, I knew him," I answer, pulling my eyes away from her face. If I look at her too much longer, I'll end up crying. It must have been so hard for her. It must still be so hard for her. Waking up and not knowing who you are. Getting a lead to someone you were once close to and then finding out they're dead. Walking around living your life not knowing anything about yourself.

     Y/N hums, pulling my eyes back to her. Her hands are busy putting her school supplies back into her bag. "Well, I hate to dine and dash but I have a speech class to get to. I don't know if you'd be open to it, but could we meet up again? I'd like to get to know about this Jason guy. I'm pretty sure he was important to me."

     My heart squeezes in my chest again. Jason was important to Y/N. They loved each other so much. The thought of lying to her crosses my mind. I've adored Y/N forever, but I could never compete with the history she has with Jay, so I never tried.

     But now? She doesn't even know the guy. I could lie through my teeth and tell her that Jason left her behind after Bruce adopted him. With dementia - even temporary dementia - there's never a promise that any, let alone all her memories will come back. But I can't do that to her. Even if her memory never clears, I wouldn't be able to live a life of a lie with her.

     "Ya, I'd like that," I say, placing a smile on my face. I pull out my notebook, quickly scratching down my phone number and address before handing the paper to her.

     "Thank you for the coffee," she says, a smile huge on her face as she looks down at the yellow paper.

     "You're welcome," I answer back, my heart picking up some as she smiles before it falls back down as she walks away. "Y/N?" I call after her, quickly throwing down a ten before jumping to my feet. When I get near her I grab her arm so she can't get any further away. Once she's stopped I drop her from my hold. I shouldn't have grabbed her like that.

     "Ya?" She asks, looking up at me with those big, beautiful eyes. I could spend the rest of my days looking into them, counting all the green strips that have become recently present in them.

     "You... Bruce... Bruce Wayne and his butler, Alfred, knew Jason quite well too. I'm... I'm going to call him and tell him I talked to you, okay? Feel free to go to the manor at any time and talk to them too, ya?"

     "Okay, thank you, Officer Grayson," Y/N chirps out, her smile growing before she slides out of the cafe.

     Bruce doesn't deserve this. He doesn't deserve to see Y/N alive, doesn't deserve to see her well and happy and breathing. But Y/N does. She deserves to know who she is. She deserves to know there are still people who love her and care about her.

     My heart races as I walk out of the cafe, pulling out my phone on the way. My fingers shake so badly as I push the call button that I have to double-check to make sure I push it. "Hey Bird-Boy," Wally says, his voice as excited as usual.

     "Hey Walles, I think you should sit down. I... have some really good news."

———————————

     My heart jumps when my cell rings. I'm quick to grab it, a smile playing on my face when I see Y/N's contact. "Hello."

     "Hello!" Her voice is as cheerful as ever when I answer her call. "I think I have the right building, but your call button doesn't work."

     A couple of hours after we met up, she called me to set up another one. It was the longest week of my life, waiting to see her again, waiting to get the chance to show her who she was. "Oh, ya, I forgot about that. I'll be down in a second."

     "See you soon, Officer," She teases before the line is hung up. 

     I'm quick to rush out my door and down the stairs to the apartment building entrance. My excitement makes it a bit of a struggle to open the door, but I do manage to get it open. Today Y/N has her hair down with a headband bow-looking thing in it. Her eyes are still super bright, causing my breath to hick a bit when I take them in. "Are you going to let me in, or do you want me to melt away in the rain?"

     "No! Come in, please," I rush out, stepping aside so Y/N can get some shelter from the rain. She smiles a bit, sliding in next to me in the hallway. "Umm... this way," I mumble, gently grabbing her wrist to pull her towards my apartment. Y/N pitter patters behind me, her head shifting around to take in the hallway. Not that there's much to take in.

     I let go of her when we get to my apartment so that I can hold the door open for her again. She says a small 'thank you' before walking through the door frame. Y/N reminds me of a drop of sunlight as she walks around the living space. Breathing life into the dark, gloomy apartment. I watch as she walks around, taking in the small kitchen before shifting her attention to the living room. "How long have you lived here?" She asks, her fingertips running over the different books packed onto my bookcase.

     "About six years," I whisper, scared if I speak too loudly that this will all turn out to be some fantasy I've credited in my head. I take slow steps towards her, stopping close enough behind her that if she moves, she'll brush up against me. Y/N doesn't seem to mind though, her attention staying on the shelves.

     "What's this?" she asks, tipping one of the photo albums I have so she can look at it better.

     "It's a photo album," I answer, wrapping my fingers around the spine of it, slightly grazing her in the process. Y/N tilts her head a bit at the touch but doesn't say anything. "Do you want to look through it? It might help with your memories."

     "Maybe," She murmurs, sliding out from in front of me. Her back rubs against me as she moves, warmth enveloping me as she moves. I watch as she walks over to the couch, making herself comfy on it as she waits for me to follow.

     I follow after her, photo album in hand as I sit down next to her. Her eyes light up when I place it on her lap and open it, causing the green flickers in them to remind me of emerald silvers.

     Her hands are gentle as she flips through the book. She stops now and again, taking a second to take in the photo and think it over. She flips the page again, starting the Happy Harbor Swimming Day section. Thanks to M'gann there are about a hundred pictures from the day.

     "That's the guy! From my memory," Y/N cheers, pointing to a copy of the picture I have on my desk. "That's Wally." I can feel hope clawing up my chest as I try to push it down. "He's Kid Flash, ya? Oh shit, I don't think I'm supposed to say that." Maybe it's okay to have a bit of hope after all.

     "Don't worry, I already know he's Kid Flash," I reassure her, wrapping my arm around her neck to pull her closer to me.

     Y/N's eyes flicker up at me before turning back to the photos. "My memories are coming back faster than they have been," she says, her eyes flickering again.

     "That's a good thing."

     She hums softly, flipping another page and taking in the pictures. "I'm remembering a lot about Jason, and you."

     My chest tightens some, both hope and fear seeping in. None of us are perfect, especially those of us who serve the world as vigilantes. It leads to a lot of fear and stress and anger that likes to manifest and cause fights. I've picked my fair share of fights. With Bruce, with Alfred, with Jay, and Y/N. I don't want those to be the memories she remembers first or the only memories she could get back of me.

     "Ya?" I finally squeeze out after a pause of silence. It feels like my heart falls out with the words.

     "Mmhmm" she hums, flipping the page again. She's finally out of the beach day and is now looking through the photos from Jay's 13th birthday. "I remember calling you Wing all the time which is weird. Maybe? Maybe not since I remember Wally being Kid Flash. You're like super deep into the hero gig ya?"

     "Ya... ya I am."

     "Was I a hero?"

     If my heart didn't fall out with my words before it sure as hell did now. It's going to kill me having to tell her everything, having to tell her how she died. "There's a lot I need to explain to you," I finally say, pulling the photo album off her lap and placing it on the table in front of us. Her eyes turn towards me and once again the flickers of green trap my attention. Tonight is going to be longer and more painful than any patrol I've ever done.

———————————————————————

[fluentmoviequoter]

The Love They Deserve

Requested Here!

Characters: Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake, Alfred Pennyworth; mentions Barbara Gordon, Stephanie Brown, Jason Todd, Scarecrow, and Joker

Summary: Dick Grayson is touch-starved but unable and unwilling to ask for the contact he needs. When he has a nightmare in Wayne Manor, Bruce decides to give all of his family the love they deserve.

Warnings: angst, nightmares, fear, fluff and comfort, Jason is dead (or at least not returned to Gotham)

Word Count: 1.6k+ words

Masterlist | DC/Dick Grayson Masterlist | Request Info

Picture from Pinterest (WFA Webtoon)

Dick Grayson wholeheartedly believes that the researchers are right. Not the ones who say Scarecrow’s fear toxin is lethal or think they’ve made a vaccine for exposure to Joker venom, but the ones who propose that humans need four hugs daily for survival. Despite his belief in that and great appreciation for physical affection, Dick can’t remember the last time he hugged someone; he can’t even place the most recent instance of human contact that lasted longer than five seconds and wasn’t experienced while wearing his Nightwing suit.

He lays down in his bed in Wayne Manor after a long night of fighting to get escapees back to Arkham Asylum, and the smooth sheets feel like fire on his skin. The touch he craves has found a way to laugh at him, making his skin tingle and burn at anything close to physical touch. Maybe he could ask someone for a hug if he was braver or stronger. He knows Alfred would gladly provide him with one, and so would Barbara and maybe Stephanie. When he thinks he’s finally grown desperate enough to ask, he shakes a hand and feels the sick humor of being touch-starved and growing disinclined to the one thing he needs.

After he grows used to the sensation of the firm mattress and the silky sheets against his skin, Dick drifts to sleep, wondering why the touch that people need can be so hard to find.

“He’s gone, Dick,” Bruce growls, standing as far from Dick as possible. “No thanks to you.”

“Bruce,” Dick pleads, stepping forward with his hand stretched out.

Bruce flinches back, and when something shatters behind him, Dick turns and sees Alfred fleeing up the stairs, his favorite tea set lying in pieces on the cold floor of the Batcave.

“You’re poison, Richard,” Bruce continues, watching Dick’s exposed hands warily. “And you need to go.”

Dick stumbles back, and when his foot slides, slipping in the spilled tea that was nowhere near him a moment ago, he falls into another room. He sits up, rubbing his side before he realizes where he is, and freezes.

“They’re all gone,” Slade states, wiping blood from his blade. “Bruce, Duke, Tim, even Barbara. Mere vapors, the idea of a memory, a face passing in a crowd never to be seen again. And where were you, Dick?”

“You’re lying,” Dick accuses, standing as he prepares to fight.

Slade turns, his mask gone and only an eyepatch covering his face. He smiles and raises his right hand. A spotlight turns on and exposes Batman lying crumpled in a red puddle, his arms reached out, and his cowl cut away from his face.

“B,” Dick gasps, tensing his muscles to keep from running toward him.

Another spotlight comes on as the one above Bruce fades, and Dick sees Robin upright but unmoving. He takes a tentative step toward the light, then freezes when he sees the broken blade holding Tim against the brick wall beside him, lodged beneath his collarbone.

“No,” Dick begs, “No, Slade.”

“Then you shouldn’t have let her go.”

The last spotlight burns brighter as it exposes Barbara slumped on her laptop, a small bullet hole evident through the screen. A thin line of smoke extends from the impact point as if Dick was only seconds too late.

“What is this?” Dick demands, his voice low and dark as he stalks toward Slade, light on his feet.

“A warning,” Slade answers, leaning back against a table. “A preamble, whatever you need it to be.”

Without warning, Slade raises his hand and fires directly at Dick, but Jason flickers back to life between them. He smiles as Dick yells in fear, and the bullet exits the mist creating the image of Jason slowly enough that Dick can see it.

“This is how it all ends,” another voice, one Dick can’t bear to listen to, says before it trails off into cackles, and Dick’s scream grows louder.

Dick continues to scream as he wakes, clutching his comforter tightly in his grasp as he sits up without thought. The manor, he realizes as he notices the familiar dresser and the robin figurine atop it. His scream dies, leaving him heaving for breath as tears roll down his face. Bruce was gone, Tim and Barbara’s blood was on his hands, and Jason was back just long enough to be ripped away from him. As Dick cries, he curls in on himself and doesn’t hear the door opening.

Bruce sighs and rubs his eyes. He's been stretched thin for a week between Wayne Enterprises’ recent expansion and his nighttime job. Despite his goal of finishing the last of the paperwork for WE, his brain keeps drifting to patrol. Something was off; Dick wasn’t quite as bubbly as usual. He did his best, saved numerous people, and made good decisions to keep himself and the rest of the family safe. Yet, something continues to bother Bruce about how Dick disappeared into the manor, walking around Tim rather than offering his usual double tap on the back.

A scream pulls Bruce from his wondering but kicks his fatherly instincts into effect. He leaves his desk, not caring if he knocked his laptop to the floor or broke the antique tools displayed above him. Nothing else matters as he runs through the foyer and up the stairs toward Dick’s room. Bruce runs through possibilities in his mind, and as he begins to hate himself for letting Dick go to bed without talking to him and expecting the worst, he storms into the room.

Dick is curled into himself in the center of the bed, his shoulders shaking with his cries. For a moment, Bruce is taken back in time to when Dick first moved in with him and woke with nightmares often or spent nights lying awake in an angry rage following the murder of his parents. Bruce doesn’t let the memory carry him away and steps farther into the room.

“Master Bruce,” Alfred whispers from the hall. “Shall I prepare the usual?”

“Yes, please, Alfred,” Bruce replies softly, backtracking to close the door. “If the others wake, tell them everything is okay. I’ll bring him down when we’re ready.”

Alfred nods once, then sets out to do not only his job but his privilege as one of the people who is lucky enough to love Dick Grayson and be loved by him. After the door is closed, Bruce walks carefully and quietly to the side of Dick’s bed.

“Hey, chum,” Bruce greets carefully. “Dick.”

Dick’s breathing picks up, ragged breaths shaking his frame as he looks up, suddenly appearing as the same scared little boy Bruce remembers being terrified of failing. He shifts to sit in the middle of his rumpled blankets and blinks as he watches Bruce. Bruce reaches out slowly, and Dick tenses but allows the touch.

When Bruce’s hand lands on Dick’s shoulder, it burns from within, like his body has grown so unused to physical contact that it’s rejecting it now that he needs it most. But as the seconds pass, the fiery, needle-like pain melts into a comfortable warmth. Dick leans against Bruce’s hand and takes a deep breath before he releases it.

As Dick moves closer, Bruce lowers to sit on the edge of the bed and wraps his arm around Dick’s shoulders. The physical reaction Dick experiences is one Bruce knows well, so he moves slowly and allows Dick to increase the contact as he’s ready.

“You were dead,” Dick murmurs, leaning his head against Bruce’s shoulder. “You were all dead. And Slade brought Jason back, but then he was gone, too.”

“We’re here,” Bruce assures him.

“It hurts,” Dick admits softly, shifting so his chest is closer to Bruce.

Bruce doesn’t hesitate then, pulling Dick against him as he had when Dick was eight, just a child with anger and fear dictating his every thought. With his arms wrapped around his son, Bruce closes his eyes and allows Dick to cling to him and find the comfort he needs.

“It gets better,” Bruce promises, gently rubbing Dick’s back. “You have to keep people close. Trust me, Dick, pushing the people closest to you away is the worst thing you can do.”

“You would know,” Dick mumbles, sniffling as Bruce chuckles against him. “I thought you didn’t like hugs.”

“But I love my family.”

Dick sits up, remaining in Bruce’s arms as he argues, “That’s such a dad thing to say.”

“I don’t know how to tell you this, chum…”

Dick laughs, and Bruce joins him, keeping his son tucked against his chest. No matter how old or tall or brave Dick becomes, he will always be Bruce’s son, and Bruce won’t hesitate to remind him that he’s there for him. When Dick slips away, Bruce prepares to be pushed or invited to leave. He looks down at Dick, who looks as young and vulnerable as Bruce sees him as he sleeps against his father’s arm. Nightmares and touch starvation were once a way of life for Bruce, too, but he refuses to let his children suffer in silence as he did.

“Alfred made hot chocolate and broke out the circus animal cookies if you decide to wake up,” Bruce mutters softly, brushing his hand gently over Dick’s forehead.

“I’m up,” Dick mumbles, blinking as he sits up, still in Bruce’s arms. “Thank you.”

Bruce smiles and places his arm around Dick’s shoulders as they walk down the stairs together. When they enter the dining room, Tim is already seated with a cup of cocoa, and Dick doesn’t hesitate to ruffle his hair. Alfred smiles at Bruce, who nods, ready to do everything he can to bring his family back together and show them the love they deserve.

[zyhkoo]

☆ everything i know about love

dick grayson and jason todd x fem!reader (separate)

they drunkenly propose

a/n: i was inspired by this fic my friend showed me, i hope you guys like this one!

Jason todd

Jason never understood the fuss about marriage. Just a piece of jewelry and some vows, and you're suddenly yoked to someone for life. No thanks. He had more important things to worry about than tying the knot. Besides, he enjoyed his freedom far too much to be tied down like that.

Why commit to one person when the world is full of interesting people to meet and adventures to be had? Jason preferred to live life on his own terms, without the constraints of a ring on his finger.

His secret identity as Red Hood only added to the list of reasons why marriage didn't fit into Jason's plans. His life was dangerous and unpredictable, and he couldn't risk the safety of a loved one by involving them in his shadowy world. Plus, balancing a marriage and a secret life as a crime-fighter would be nearly impossible. It was better for everyone involved if Jason continued his nocturnal escapades alone.

Surprisingly enough, Jason found himself softening his stance while dating you. It wasn’t like he suddenly became a relationship enthusiast overnight, but he couldn’t deny the subtle change in his perspective.

Though marriage still seemed like a far-off possibility, Jason realized that a fulfilling relationship didn't necessarily require a ring. He was content with the way things were, cherishing the connection he had with you and the moments they shared. The idea of a wedding might still make him a bit nervous, but he knew what mattered most was the happiness you shared in the present.

As the buzz about your relationship grew, the questions about when you were getting married started to come up more frequently. Your friends would throw subtle hints during conversations, or nosy family members would outright ask, expecting a firm timeline. Jason felt the pressure, too. The constant reminders of marriage were like a nagging voice in the back of his mind, pushing him to make a decision he wasn’t ready for. The pressure was mounting, but Jason stubbornly held onto his reservations.

Then, it hit him. Wedding fever.

The last wedding the two of you attended was your best friend’s. You couldn't believe it when you accidentally caught the bouquet at your best friend's wedding. It was just a silly tradition, nothing more. At least, that's what you thought. Little did you know, the effect of the bouquet would hit someone unexpected: Jason.

Suddenly, the mere touch of that bouquet ignited a strange fervor within him. A fever for the idea of marriage, something he had vehemently opposed in the past. Jason watched as your friends and family playfully teased you about catching the bouquet, but his mind was elsewhere. He stood there, dumbfounded, as if the sight of you with that bouquet had somehow changed everything.

His thoughts were a whirlwind of confusion and newfound desire. How could a simple bouquet have such an impact on him? He was the guy who never wanted to get married, and now he was practically salivating at the thought. What was happening to him?

When he had too much to drink, you dragged him back to the hotel room.

You gently pulled Jason into the hotel room, his body leaning heavily against yours as the alcohol dulled his senses. You decided to undress him so he'd be more comfortable, unbuttoning his polo shirt while his breath tickled your neck. But as you reached the last button, Jason suddenly leaned forward and pressed a desperate, hungry kiss against your lips.

You were caught off guard by his sudden move, but you couldn't resist the passion behind the kiss. You returned his kiss, your lips responding tenderly and gently meeting him. As he pulled away, your heart skipped a beat as Jason looked into your eyes, his words slurred but his gaze steady. "Marry me," he said.

Here he was, the man who had once been so skeptical about marriage, proposing to you in the midst of a drunken stupor. You couldn't believe what you were hearing, you were absolutely baffled. You stammered, trying to find the right words to say. “What?” you muttered.

"I said, marry me," he repeated as he gripped your wrist. “M’ serious," he insisted, as if trying to convince himself just as much as he was trying to convince you.

You couldn't help but stand there with your mouth open, in disbelief at the words that were coming out of his mouth. This was the same man who had been adamantly against the idea of marriage just a few hours ago, and now he was drunkenly proposing to you! Jason's lips grazed against your fingers, his breath warm and words slurred but still filled with a sweet intensity. "Come on," he muttered, clinging to your hand. "Just say yes."

You could feel the nerves in your voice as you struggled to find the right words. "Wow, uh...I'd love to say yes, but maybe we should call it a day first. Let's talk about it in the morning, okay?"

Jason's eyes softened as he looked at you, his drunken state making it difficult for him to comprehend your words. But he nodded, albeit reluctantly. "In the morning," he repeated, his voice slurring. "But m’ serious, I do want to marry you." You gave him a small, reassuring smile. "I know you're serious," you said softly, gently stroking his hair. "We'll talk about it in the morning, when you're sober, okay?"

Dick Grayson

It all began with a simple birthday surprise from Dick– a beautiful white cake that bore an uncanny resemblance to a wedding dress. Unintentionally, it planted the seed of wedding fever in Dick's mind. Slowly, the realization dawned upon him, sparking a subtle yet determined desire to make his love for you official.

Dick found himself wrestling with how to broach the subject. While you had occasionally mentioned a future together, marriage had never explicitly entered the picture in your conversations. He pondered how to bring up the idea without catching you off guard.

Late one night, after an evening of bonding with his siblings over a few drinks, Dick returned to the cozy abode he shared with you. In his grip, he clutched a single daisy, its delicate white petals gently swayed with each movement. As he stepped inside, he revealed a paper ring resting on his palm, its simplicity belying the depth of emotion he wanted to convey.

You looked down at the paper ring in Dick's hand with puzzlement in your eyes. "What is this?" you asked. His heart thumped in his chest as he saw your confused eyes. He took a step closer, the petals of the flower trailing across your skin. A gentle smile played on his lips as he slurred, “It’s a ring, f’ course.”

He held the ring up, offering it to you. “I want to…” he trails his words. “You want to..?” you continued his sentence. He looks into your eyes, the paper ring still offered in his hand. He’s taking in the sight of you, wearing nothing more than a pair of sleep shorts and one of his old t-shirts, with your hair messy on your head.

“I… I want to marry you,” he says quietly.

You replied quickly, “Sure.” you said casually. A hint of surprise flickered in Dick's eyes. He had braced himself for a range of potential reactions, but this one had caught him off guard. Dick's mouth hung open for a moment, and for a split second he was at a loss for words. "Sure?" he repeated, his voice laced with a mixture of disbelief and a touch of confusion. He looked at you in slight surprise, his mind processing the unexpected simplicity of your response.

“Yeah,” you replied as you held his hand. “Let’s get married.”

His mind raced, trying to process the unexpected simplicity of your response. He’d been expecting a little bit more discussion, maybe even some tears, yet here you were, casually agreeing to his impromptu proposal. He stared down at you, a mix of surprise and elation flooding his expression. He looked at your hand holding his thumb running against the back of your hand.

“Just like that?” he chuckled, a bit breathlessly. You only smiled softly, “Why wouldn’t I marry someone like you?” you told him. “Let’s get you to bed, you’re gonna have a massive hangover tomorrow.”

He looked down at the paper ring on his hand, then back at you. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, as he took your hand in his, and placed the ring upon your finger. “Now it’s official,” he chuckled, looking down at the simple paper ring on your finger.

[teddypines]

Thunderstorm

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Sumary: Cute moment with Batmom!reader and Damian who is afraid of thunderstorm.

Batmom!reader x Damain, Fem!reader (Use of she/her pronounce)

Note: I don't know Batman lore like i know mcu lore. Everything i know is from the cartoon's i watched as a kid and the fanfic's and webtoon i read. So if somthings are out of charachter, i'm sorry. Also the other boy's live at home i don't care if it isn't canon.

Art/picture is from Pintrest, credits go to whoever made it.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Damian always acted like he was an adult, because in his eyes he thought he was, even when Y/N knew the boy was far from being an adult. She always tried to give him small moments that normal kids his age had in an attempt to make up for the things Talia had done in the past. This included letting him come to her if he needed, no matter the time or place.

It was just a normal Friday night in the Wayne household. Y/N was cuddled up to Bruce’s side on the couch. Jason and Dick to her right both bickering about which guy the girl on tv would end up with. Tim was curled up in his blanket on the chair, tiredly typing away on his laptop and Damian was trying to stay close to Bruce’s side but didn’t want to make it obvious that he wanted to cuddle. The rain outside made for a cozy feel for the whole moment, it made Y/N happy. The kids and Bruce are safe at home with her and not out on patrol or fighting crime. 

Y/N sighed as the tv show Jason and Dick were watching was finally over. So she took the remote and quickly turned the channels to look at the weather forecast. “Owh, boy looks like we are going to have a thunderstorm tonight. Good thing I don't have to worry about you all being out.” Y/N said before switching channels again. The fact that it was going to storm didn’t really bother Bruce or the boy’s. Except for Damian, he was stressed internally, but he didn’t want his brothers to know. They would probably laugh if they knew he was scared of a thunderstorm. Y/N looked over at Damian. “Everything okay, Dami?” She asked, the troubled look on Damian’s face made her worry. “Y-yes, I'm fine. Nothing to worry about, just tired.” Damian rambled back at Y/N. 

“I think I might go to bed too,” Tim said after Jason left the living room. He closed his laptop and wiggled out of his blanket. He made his way over to Y/N and Bruce, Y/N already opening her arms for Tim. “Night night, Pumpkin” Y/N said to Tim when he was safely in her arms. “Goodnight, momma. Night, dad. Love you” Tim answered, staying in Y/N’s arms for a little while. “We love you too, Pumpkin” Y/N said in between kisses she placed on Tim’s head. Bruce wrapped his arm around Tim too, but only for a moment. “Now off to bed, Pumpkin, don’t want you to fall asleep here again” Y/N said which made Tim reluctantly pull away. Soon After Dick said his goodnights too and left the living room with Tim. 

“I bet little Dami is just scared of the thunderstorm.” Jason commented as he leaned back against the couch, a small smirk spread across his face. "No! I am not scared!” Damian yepped back at Jason, he pouted a bit after. Bruce held back a small laugh at Damian’s pouty face which earned him a jab in the side form Y/N.

“Don’t tease your brother like that, Jay bird and Dami, it's okay if you're scared of thunderstorms” Y/N said hoping to resolve the small situation. Jason grumbled a bit before getting off the couch. "Fine! I'm off to bed.” He wanted to quickly disappear, but Y/N didn’t let him. “Night night, Jay bird” She said with a smile. Jason groaned and quickly hugged her. “Night mom” He whispered to Y/N.

“You should go to bed soon too, Dami, and if the storm scares you it’s okay to come to us. We’ll protect you from the storm” Y/N said in an attempt to sooth Damian’s worry about the upcoming thunderstorm. She reached over Bruce and gently ran a hand over Damian’s head. “I’ll be fine, no need to worry” Damian answered a bit distant. He didn’t want Y/N (or Bruce) to worry about him. “Just know we’re there when you do need us” Bruce said to Damian in a stern but reassuring way. Damain just nodded his head and pulled off the couch. “I’ll be fine, night”

It did upset Y/N just a bit that Damian didn’t get his usual good night hug, but she knew he would be by her side the moment the thunder storm started. Bruce pulled Y/N on top of him and kissed her cheek. “He’ll be back, love” 

<----------------------------------------------------------------------->

The thunderstorm started around 1:30 AM, just when Y/N found a comfy position next to Bruce. The thunder wasn’t as bad in the beginning, but got worse after 20 minutes. After one particular loud thunder Y/N awoke to the weight shifting on the bed. She opened her eyes and was met with a very scared Damian. “Umi? C-can i stay with you and… and dad?” Damian stuttered through his tears. "Always, baby” Y/N answered. She pulled away from Bruce’s side and turned over so Damian could cuddle against her. “I see you brought mister Moo” Y/N pointed at the plush cow in Damian’s arms. “Maybe…” He whispered, busying himself with finding the best way to lay next to Y/N. Wanting to be as close to her as he could. He slowly closed his eyes but flinched when another thunder strike was heard. 

“Shhh, it’s okay Dami, you're safe in bed with us. No need to be scared, Thor is just a bit extra mad at Loki tonight.” Y/N whispered to Damian. a reassuring hand was placed on Damian’s back. Damian shifted his head to look up at Y/N. “What?” Y/N laughed a bit. “You heard me. Thor is mad at Loki, that’s why the thunder is so loud tonight. Loki probably stabbed him again or tricked him by being a cute snake.” Y/N explained as Damian listened. He knew that what Y/N said was just based on stories and myths, but he liked it. Made the thunderstorm less scary. “Really? Why would Loki do that?” He asked. “Well, Loki really likes attention and sometimes he thinks he doesn’t get enough of it, so he asks for attention. But he does it in the only way he knows how, by being a little shit head and stabbing Thor or tricking the others.” Y/N explained. Bruce groaned a bit as he heard Y/N talk. He turned over and saw Damian hiding against her. 

“Or Thor just stubbed his toe.” Bruce added while propping his arm underneath his head. “Yes, that is possible too” Y/N answered with a small nod of her head. Damian laughed a bit and yawned. “I like that one better, big oof stubbing his toe.”

“Yeah, see now the thunder isn’t so bad is it?” Y/N asked as she yawned as well. Damian only nodded his head in answer. The storm outside was still going on, but Thor just stubbed his toe so that made the thunder more understandable. It was a story, but the story helped Damian feel less scared. 

“Alright, love you” Y/N promised before drifting off to sleep. Bruce smiled at the two. He placed gentle kisses on both their heads before falling asleep as well.

Y/N smiled as she watched Damian fall asleep against her. She turned her head to look at Bruce. “Out like a light,” She said. Bruce smiled and tried to lay back down next to Y/N. “Yeah, but he’s taking all of the comfy spots on the bed” Y/N rolled her eyes and held out her hand for Bruce to hold. “Tomorrow night you can sleep against me again.” Y/N reassured Bruce while he held onto her hand. “Fine, but I expect extra cuddles then!”

[impyssadobsessions]

Ahh I'm so glad I got to draw this! The Guess that Artist event in Haunting Heroes discord really gave me a reason to revisit this oneshot, Some Things You Just Can't Speak about by starfirez. Its just such a cute short story. I tried to make the change obvious. And I know the lighting doesn't show, but I purposely made Jason's palette red and Dick's cool tone to match who he was going to turn into >w< There somethings im not completely happy with but I adore how baby jason came out <3

Some Things You Just Can’t Speak About (4399 words) by starfirez Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: DCU (Comics), Batman (Comics) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Dick Grayson & Jason Todd Characters: Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Alfred Pennyworth Additional Tags: Fluff and Humor, Batfamily (DCU), playstation as a metaphor for love, just run with it please, Sibling Bonding Summary: "Go away Bruce, I ain’t talking to you," Jason said hotly. "Not Bruce," Dick replied, trying not to be offended by the mistake as Jason lifted the sheet to examine him. "Just me." "Yeah," Jason agreed, almost bitterly. "Just you." The more things change, the more they stay the same.

[dontbesoweirdkira]

Just thinking about how both platonic! yan! Dick and Jason have a habit of laying on top of their batsis and crushing her.

just look at how guilty they are....

Masterlist

Requests: open

Dick is a menace. He's a full sized golden retriever who thinks he's still a puppy. When he jumps or lays on you to try to be all affectionate...he forgets that he weighs close to if not over two hundred pounds.

No matter how often you tell him he's way too big to do this, he doesn't care.

He just loves engulfing you in these full body hugs and cannot help himself. It's cute though, if you try not to think about your lungs collapsing on itself. He acts innocent by nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck,,,,but it's a ploy to then attack you with tickles which leads to play fighting.

I mean it's his brotherly duty to be as annoying as possible. Sometimes he just likes the fact hes stronger than you and can hold you down this easily. Rookie mistake to announce you need to use the bathroom or get ready for something when you're chilling on the couch. He will trap you until the last possible second.

As much as you complain and cry, don't mind it too much. It's nice to be apart of a real family like this and Dick is trying to show his love by playing.

Jason on the other hand is just kind of clueless about the fact he's crushing you. You're sitting on the couch and Jason comes home after a long night and sees a perfect napping spot..

You don't really want to tell him that he's wayyy too big to just plop down on you like that because it's nice that he's feeling safe enough to just do these things now.

He also is like a big dog. He does that big huff and occasional twitching in his sleep. lol

Sometimes you'll also fall asleep right with him because he's basically a human weighted blanket. You'll eventually wake to him looking up at you. It's subtle but there's a soft smile there. He's happy you feel safe too.

I like to think he desperately wants to be held sometimes but he doesn't know that he needs it or even how to ask so he just does it. You naturally wrap your arms around and rest them on him anyways. He's like a little kid when he does this. It heals something inside of him. His cold un-dead body, finally feeling an ounce of fuzzy warmth.

Do you think sometimes Jason will pull a snack or something out of his pocket. Like he lays on you but then pulls out a jolly rancher as an offering. lol. One moment he's sleeping and the next you can feel him munching on something crunchy.

[brie-annwyl]

Fic idea things <3

Jason coming back to get revenge and seeing Bruce at his grave, talking to his headstone saying things like “you have a wonderful new brother, his name is Tim. I think you would’ve loved him.” And “Never tell Dick, but you were and probably always will be my favourite, Jay.” And Jason realizes oh fuck, I’m not ready for this emotional moment and I don’t even want revenge anymore. So he just continues to be Red Hood and sticks to crime alley until the Bats (Bruce, Tim, Dick, etc) get kidnapped and he’s like, oh fuck, now I HAVE to deal with this emotional bs.

Bruce just immediately hugging Jason after he finds out his identity. Even if it’s dangerous for him to do so (Jason pointing a gun at him).

Jason’s reason for wanting to kill the Joker having nothing to do with revenge, the reality of the situation is Jason has borderline debilitating insomnia because he’s so terrified he’ll wake up back in that warehouse or the Joker will find him whilst he’s asleep.

Bruce originally not wanting Tim as his new Robin because he reminded him so much of Jason. To the point where he caught himself almost calling him Jason on multiple occasions. That’s why it took so long for them to be close.

Dick accidentally calling Tim - Jason after Jason beats the shit out of him.

Jason and Tim knowing each other before Jason dies. Jason knew Tim’s parents weren’t caring for him properly and wanted Bruce to adopt him but he didn’t get the chance to tell Bruce about Tim when he was alive.

Jason getting dosed in fear toxin and getting hallucinations of Willis whilst the other bats are around.

Bruce getting dosed in fear toxin and hallucinates burying Jason again.

Jason is always freezing bc of the whole dying thing and needs other people to keep warm, but Jason’s a stubborn bitch and it’s the middle of winter.

[ferritins]

SWEETER KIND OF PAIN | D. GRAYSON

SUMMARY: the first clue that something is wrong happens when you walk through the door to find that Dick is a) still in his Nightwing uniform and b) touchy, even for him.

WARNINGS/NOTES: dubcon non-s*xual physical touch (cuddle pollen).

The first clue that something is wrong is when you walk through the door to find that Dick is a) still in his Nightwing uniform and b) touchy.

Touchy is an understatement.

Dick’s hands are everywhere; palming the handle of your hipbone over your pyjama shorts, smoothing over the wings of your shoulder blades, sweeping up the length of your sides, and sit e, he’s always been tactile with you, but this is a lot, even for him.

The near-desperation and intensity of the way he’s seeking your skin gives you pause.

“Dickie, hold up.” You say, voice soft but hands braced firm on his shoulders.

Dick visibly shudders as he withdraws his hands from where they’re perched on your hips, something desolate creeping into his expression.

“Sorry, I’m sorry—“

“Hey, don’t apologise. This is just… a lot, even for you, and I need to know what’s up so I know how to help.”

“Cuddle pollen. Ivy tagged me earlier.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” You say, empathy a heavy stone on your sternum.

Dick has described to you before the gnawing, hollow cold of cuddle pollen, the ache of skin hunger; touch starvation, dialled up to twenty. Just hearing it described sent goosebumps down your back; to think that Dick is experiencing that now stops up your throat.

“Come on.” You say, taking his hand in yours and heading to your bedroom. “Let’s get you out of your suit, then we can cuddle.”

Dick clings to your hand like a lifeline. His hands return to your hips, long fingers sweeping under your pyjama shirt on the search for skin as you unzip your his suit at the neck.

He groans, full-throated, as you push his suit down to his hips, revelling in your touch, the sound making your ears hot.

You tug his pyjama shirt over his head, and help him tug down the legs of his suit til he’s just in his boxers.

The brief loss of contact sets him to shivering.

You wince, sympathetic.

As soon as you’re under your duvet, bare legs tangled with Dick’s, his body goes slack with relief, two hundred pounds of muscle and sinew pressing into you like he wants to work himself subdermal, live inside of you.

One hand slips under your shirt, pushing it up to smooth over the soft expanse of your belly; the other sweeps long, slow, proprietary strokes over your thigh where it’s thrown over his.

“You’re so soft, baby, feel so good.” He mutters into your neck, pressing butterfly kisses into the delicate skin. You’re not entirely sure he even knows what he’s saying, most likely endorphin drunk.

“.”Flatterer.” You laugh. “Is this helping?”

You valiantly ignore the way your voice quavers at the end of your question as his fingers catch on your waistband before sweeping back up over your belly.

“Yeah.” Dick sighs. “Thank you.”

Cocooned in warm blankets, held by someone you love; it’s no wonder that you find yourself fighting sleep.

Tomorrow, you’ll need to talk, to assuage his misplaced guilt, and set some boundaries for the next time something like this occurs.

For tonight though — touching and being touched, able to give intimacy and comfort in a way deeper than mere sensuality — you’re happy just to be here, to hold Dick close.

[sleepyangelkami]

BUTTER ICING d.grayson

 ☆ WORD COUNT - 1.5K

DICK GRAYSON X FEM!READER

 ☆ SUMMARY - thinkin' about dick grayson taking care of his baker!so who sometimes forgets to take care of herself.

 ☆ WARNINGS - mentions of eating? fluff, pet names, reader is mentioned to be short, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

yet another call from his ex-bulter had dick rolling out of the bed at, according to his beautiful girlfriend, you, 'ungodly hours'. he had pressed a mere kiss against your forehead, telling you that he'd be home soon and joking for you to 'be good'. you'd merely giggled under the blankets, thankful no one was waking you at such an hour and snuggling back into the comfort of your bed.

and he couldn't help but admire you. one would think after so many phone calls for him to leave whether it was early hours of the morning or the late hours of the night, you'd be somewhat mad. but you understood dick and his line of work and his especially impatient father.

he truly didn't deserve you.

he kept his promise, somewhat. he wasn't exactly home 'soon' but he was home as soon as he could be. getting bruce off his back was like a work out he hadn't prepared for. but nevertheless, it was around seven in the evening when he was walking through the door, charming smile on his lips. "honey, i'm home!" he'd joked in a sing-song voice. he did this every time he stepped through that front door. he could only imagine you rolling your eyes with a grin on your lips.

"kitchen!" you'd yelled back as he found himself walking towards that very room, discarding his bags near the living room door, deciding to deal with that later on. all that was on his mind was you.

and there you were, in the kitchen as you'd told him. only you weren't standing up, instead you were knelt on the kitchen counter, attempting to reach past the top cupboard where your containers for your baked goods were. "darling?" he received a hum from you, your tongue darting out between your two lips. "what are you doing?"

finally, you turned with a huff. "i can't reach the containers." his eyes glanced to the kitchen table which held a multitude of cupcakes. they were all decorated with yellow butter icing, little chocolates placed delicately on top. the smell of cupcakes was rather rich in your shared kitchen.

he could only chuckle softly, his hands moving to your under arms and gently lifting you down from the counter. if you kept climbing up there, you were bound to get hurt. "you shouldn't put them where you can't reach them then." he spoke, a playful smile on his lips as he reached his long arms up, taking down one of your containers. "who are these for anyway?"

being a baker had it's perks but being the baker's boyfriend was even better. he could eat as many treats as he liked and he didn't even have to lift a finger. "miriam." you spoke, thanking him softly for getting the container before loading the cupcakes in. "she'll be here at eleven tomorrow." as you turned your back, dick eyed you before taking one of the cupcakes into his grasp. by the time you turned around, half of it had been emptied into his mouth. you just blinked at him. "you know, i make extra cupcakes just because i know you'll eat them all."

with a mouthful, he spoke. "sorry." but you could only smile at him, placing the other cupcakes into the container and leaving a couple extra scattered across the counter for the dog to eat, oh, my bad, for dick to eat. "you can't just make cupcakes and expect me not to get hungry."

your eyebrow raised. "you were at the manor all day, don't try to convince me that alfred wasn't practically shoving food down your throat."

god, he did love alfred's cooking. "a man's gotta eat." he shrugged. "what'd you have for dinner."

he watched as your eyes widened. "crap! i was supposed to make―"

"shh." he pressed a kiss against the crown of your head. "i'll make some spaghetti bolognese." he was already moving toward the fridge where he new the contents lay.

you often times forgot to go shopping, it was always him that was stocking up the fridge, making sure you didn't go hungry while he was away. don't get me wrong, you still went to the manor with him more often than not. but as a baker, as a home-working baker, you often had to spend your days cooped up in the kitchen so you couldn't join him on his trips.

"dick, you don't have to do that." you were standing behind him, all bashful as your fingers fumbled together.

dick loved taking care of you, don't get me wrong, he just wished you loved it as much as he did, perhaps then you wouldn't be forgetting to feed yourself. you were often times forgetting to do the simple things, the things that involved caring for your own mind and body but when it came to others, you were in tip top shape, ready to care for the next person who walked in the door. he loved that about you but he really wished you'd care about yourself as much as you cared about others.

but it was okay, because as long as he was alive and breathing, he'd make sure you were taken care of.

he'd turned around, his hands finding your waist as he gently soothed the skin. he watched as your cheeks heated up and your smile couldn't wipe from your cheeks. dick was well aware of the affect he had on you. "let me cook you dinner, baby." and when he talked to you like that, well who could refuse?

"okay." you mumbled gently. "thank you."

"don't mention it." but he still leant down, pressing yet another kiss to your face only this time it was to your lips, short and sweet.

by the time dick had started cooking, you were sitting up on the counter, your legs dangling as you took a giant bowl into your hands. dick glanced over, his brows furrowed. "what's that?" he questioned, watching as you lifted a finger from the bowl, covered in butter icing. he couldn't help but roll his eyes. "you know, i think eating mouth fulls of butter icing is probably worse than a couple cupcakes."

you merely shrugged, licking your lips clean. "a baker's gotta have some relief." and it was true.

you didn't just bake because you thought it was rather easy, you loved baking. baking was both a stress reliever and a way to calm down whenever you needed it and hey, it also got you money. but your all time favourite thing about baking? licking the bowls, spatchala's, really anything you could get your hands on, clean.

especially the sweet butter icing.

"here, lemme taste." and as you moved, your hand turning towards the drawer so you could get him out a spoon, you were cut off by the feeling of his lips on yours.

you practically melted into him, allowing him to kiss you sweetly yet slightly rough. you didn't care, feeling your mind go hazy at the mere feeling of his lips. dick always had such an affect on you, you should have been embarrassed yet you simply couldn't find it in yourself to be.

he was the first to pull away, watching as you blinked up at him, slightly dazed. "hmm, sweet." he commented before turning around to the frying pan and using the wooden spoon to turn the contents around.

you, whose stomach had turned to a swarm of butterflies, hopped off of the counter. "I'm gonna..." your head feeling slightly floaty. god, you thought, pull yourself together. "gonna go fill the dishwasher."

and dick, who didn't even bother looking up from the frying pan, wore a little smirk that tugged his lips upwards. "okay, pretty girl."

he really was going to be the death of you.

however, you were sure you could die a happy girl while eating the dinner he'd made for you. sure, you liked to bake but nothing did taste better than one of dick's homemade dinner's. you'd been seated across the couch, your legs had been on dick's lap before he'd gotten up a couple minutes ago, pressing a kiss to your lips and not telling you where he'd been going.

you assumed it was to go eat more of your cupcakes and this theory was proved right as you turned your head over the couch, spotting him bent down slightly to read the calendar, chewing on a cupcake while another was in his hand. "sweetheart?" he called out, not bothering to move his gaze from the calendar.

"yes?" you leaned yourself up on the couch, laying your arms flat on the back of it and placing your head down on top of them, admiring your pretty boyfriend. he truly was beautiful, even when he was stuffing his face and he had a smudge of butter icing on his nose.

"when's your next day off?" he questioned, standing up straight again as his eyes flickered back to you.

you shrugged your shoulders. "had a big cancellation for sunday, why?"

"then it's settled." he spoke, opening the buncase of the next cupcake. "i'm taking you out for dinner on sunday."

"wha― you don't have to do that." finding your heart soften at the mere offer.

"it's only fair." he spoke, shrugging his shoulders. "i ate half of your cupcakes."

the perks of being the boyfriend of a baker.

the perks of being the girlfriend of a billionare's son.

main masterlist/dick's masterlist

[captainsophiestark]

Guest Appearance

Dick Grayson x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)

Fandom: DC

Summary: As a PA on a nightly talk show with all kinds of celebrity guests, the job always comes with some level of unexpected chaos. But when Dick Grayson's interview is interrupted by a New York supervillain, the events of the night might reach a whole new level of wild adventure

Word Count: 2,967

Category: Fluff, Humor, maybe a little bit of Angst

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"Can you believe he's really here?"

"No. How is it possible that he's somehow hotter in person?"

I stifled a laugh behind my hand and turned to look at my coworker, Tara, who had an absolutely shameless grin on her face. I shook my head, but I couldn't stop a similar smile from spreading across my own face, too.

We'd become work besties since we got hired and added to the crew of the same talk show together at the same time. We'd worked with a laundry list of truly incredible guests (and some truly terrible ones), but today was officially the record best for the both of us.

Richard Grayson, the famous, charming philanthropist and eldest son of Bruce Wayne was our guest for today's show. My job was making sure talent knew where to go and that they got there on time, so even better, I'd actually been able to interact with him a bit.

"Was he nice?" asked Tara, keeping her voice low as we watched our host go through the interview as planned. "Please tell me he was nice. I don't think I could handle it if he was an asshole."

"Oh, Tara, he was so sweet. You should've seen the smile he gave me when we were introduced. And he remembered my name, he said thank you specifically to me when I got him to the stage earlier!"

Tara sighed. "I'm in love."

"Honestly? Same."

The two of us fell into comfortable silence as we returned our attention to the shoot before us. The host was asking about some charity work Dick Grayson and his dad had gotten behind recently, and every time the host tried to give him accolades, Dick deflected and turned all the attention back to the volunteers and the people they were trying to help.

I was quite literally melting. Next to me, Tara seemed to be having the same reaction.

"I wish he could come on every week," she muttered, shaking her head. "They're about to wrap this part though, I need to get in position to set up for the game they're gonna play. Continue this after the show?"

"You're on."

She shot me a wink, then headed over to where all the props were resting for the game our host was going to play with Grayson. I turned my attention back to the interview, then frowned. Something weird was going on with the backdrop of the set. The color was changing to an icier white, as if frost was spreading across it. I squinted, trying to get a closer look, when everything around me exploded.

Cold wind swept through the studio as the lights went out. Members of the audience screamed, and I whirled around a moment later to see exactly why. Killer Frost, one of the supervillains who sometimes operated here in New York, was at the top of the audience seats, sending ice and freezing wind through the entire studio.

I shook my head, taking a few steps backwards before I thought better of it. I turned to the main stage where our host, guest, and a few others had been, searching for anybody I could help out of here, only to find it empty. A moment later Tara rushed up to me, a panicked look in her eye.

"Tara! You have to get out of here!" I said, trying to be heard over the increasing commotion as Killer Frost slowly but surely made her way down the stairs and towards the main stage, moving as if she had all the time in the world. "Get anybody you can to follow you, go down the stairs and get the hell out of here as fast as you can! And call somebody for help on your way out!"

Tara nodded, her grip on my forearm still like iron.

"Are you coming with me?"

I glanced over her shoulder at Killer Frost with a grimace, then turned back to Tara and shook my head.

"I want to see if I can help anybody else get out of here, especially Grayson. Talent's supposed to be my responsibility, and it seems like she's probably after him for a ransom or something. Since he's not familiar with the studio, I don't want him getting lost or stuck somewhere if there's something I can do to help."

Tara shook her head, but I started pushing her towards the exit and moving in the opposite direction before she could stop me.

"Go! I'll meet you outside!"

With that, I turned on my heel and ran.

Thankfully, I'd gotten to know this place well enough in the time since I'd started working here that I was able to navigate quickly through the back hallways. Everything back here was deserted now, which hopefully meant that everyone else had already gotten out. I threw open every door I passed anyway, looking for stragglers trying to hide that I might be able to send out the back stairs instead, getting them further out of harm's way.

The temperature in the hallway dropped with every extra second I spent here, and I knew I was running out of time, but I was determined to finish checking this space. Every room so far had been empty, but the last door at the end of the hall was our guest dressing room. Once I cleared it, I could get the hell out of here myself. With one quick glance over my shoulder to make sure Killer Frost hadn't reached this place yet, I threw open the last door on my list.

I froze in the doorway, but not because of a supervillain. Basically the opposite, actually. Before me, in the middle of the room, was Dick Grayson. He was shirtless, but more notably, he was halfway into the very recognizable superhero costume of Nightwing.

We locked eyes, just staring at each other for a few long moments while my brain tried to compute what I was seeing. I blinked, thinking this had to be a prank or an illusion or something, but then the temperature dropped another few degrees and Dick Grayson—Nightwing—started moving.

"What are you doing in here?" he asked as he quickly pulled on the top half of his suit. I just shook my head, trying to get my brain engaged again.

"I... I was checking if anybody was still here, I wanted to make sure you got out the back stairs since Killer Frost is probably here for you... are you seriously Nightwing?"

Dick grimaced as he slipped on a domino mask, giving me all the confirmation I needed.

"I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell anybody. But right now, you need to get out of here."

"Right. Right, yeah, you're right."

Dick nodded, crossing the room to gently take my arm and lead me out of it. I turned to the door at the end of the hallway that would lead to the stairs and out of the building, but before I could take so much as a step towards it, a blast of ice exploded against the wall, sealing the door completely shut.

I heard Dick swear under his breath as he yanked me back against his chest, moving me out of harm's way just in time.

"Get in the dressing room and keep your head down," he muttered to me before gently pushing me in that direction. I paused in the doorway to watch as he slowly turned to face Killer Frost, who'd finally caught up to us.

Nightwing shot me a wink and a confident smile before stepping forward, past where I could see his face. I knew I needed to take cover; I couldn't do much against Killer Frost, and neither could Nightwing if he was worried about protecting me. But before I shut the door, I figured there was one last thing I could do to try to help him.

"Dick, take cover back there," I said, faking pushing someone just beyond sight of the doorway from the hallway. "Nightwing's here, he's going to take care of it. It's going to be okay."

I wasn't sure if that would convince Killer Frost, or if Nightwing's secret identity was even something I should be concerned about right now, but I figured it at least couldn't hurt to try to help him out. I chanced one last glance behind me, but couldn't see more than a blinding flash of light as the two supers collided and I shut the door.

I took a deep breath, trying to gather myself. It still didn't seem completely real—it felt like a mistake. Richard Grayson, the famous son of Bruce Wayne, was one of the last people I'd expect to be a vigilante. Yet the proof was pretty irrefutable.

I crossed the room, shakily easing down into the nearest chair. Hopefully Dick, or Nightwing, or whoever the hell he was would be able to beat Killer Frost. If he wasn't, this room would surely be her next stop, and she'd probably be pretty disappointed to just find me, without the billionaire's son she'd been looking for.

The clashing and shouting sounds of fighting continued outside, setting my nerves on edge with every second that passed. Finally, they came to a stop, and that was honestly worse. I perched on the edge of my seat, ready to jump up at a moment's notice, and watched the door like a hawk. I shot halfway to the ceiling when it came flying open, then collapsed back onto the couch when I saw it was just Nightwing.

"You scared the hell out of me," I breathed, putting a hand to my chest. He shot me a grin as he slammed the door shut behind him.

"Sorry about that. I don't have a lot of time to spare, here."

"You... won, right? You beat Killer Frost?"

He nodded before ducking behind a rack of clothes to one side of the room. I could still see his face as he slipped off the domino mask, revealing the kind but non-super guest of the show that I'd met earlier today.

"She's unconscious, and I made sure she was subdued for whichever authorities get here first. But I couldn't stay out there to wait for them, since it might make my identity a little obvious. Especially when they checked this room and found you alone in here."

I huffed a laugh. "Yeah, people might have a few questions about that, my boss included."

He shot me a smile that made me melt, then stepped out from behind the rack of clothes a moment later, his nice suit for the talk show looking as good as when he'd first come in this morning. I frowned.

"What?" he asked. I shook my head, gesturing to his overall appearance.

"You look too put together. You were almost kidnapped by Killer Frost, you got shoved into this room by a vigilante and me... I don't know, I think you're supposed to look a little more rumpled."

He laughed. "You know, that's a good point. Hold on."

He ran his hands through his hair a few times to mess it up, then ripped at his nice white button up shirt until it looked sufficiently messy. Once he'd finished, he turned back to me with a smile, arms out to his sides.

"How's this?"

I smiled. "So good you might need to start worrying about the threat our hair and wardrobe people might pose to your safety when they see you instead of Killer Frost."

"I'll take it," he said, still beaming. A moment later though, the smile melted off his face and he took a step towards me. "Look... I appreciate your help covering my identity with Killer Frost... can I trust you to keep doing that? Nobody knows this secret."

I stared at Dick, one of the nicest guests we'd ever had on this show and apparently secretly the superhero Nightwing, as he came to a stop just a few inches from me. His wide, sparkling blue eyes and messy black hair made my heart melt and race all at the same time. I still didn't really know him, although I now knew something pretty major about him, but nevertheless, I couldn't help feeling that my sense about him—that he was a good, kind person—was right on.

I took a deep breath to give him an answer when the door to the room came flying open. On instinct, I shoved Dick backwards and behind the couch, and stepped forward. My producer, the show's host, and someone I assumed was a detective here for Killer Frost stared back at me.

"What happened?" I demanded, trying to look scared and wary as I shifted slightly backwards towards Dick. "Where is... is she gone?"

Everyone in the room relaxed a little at my question, the detective nodding as Dick stepped up to stand next to me.

"Killer Frost has been neutralized," she said. "What happened to the two of you?"

I glanced at Dick, still making a show of being rattled, and he did the same. I took a deep breath and turned back to the trio before us.

"I ran down here to try to make sure everyone got out, but Killer Frost showed up before Dick and I could make a run for it. She would've..." I paused, letting my gaze go a little unfocused as I swallowed hard, doing my best to sell the fear of the experience, which really wasn't all that hard. "I think we would've been in some serious trouble, but Nightwing showed up in the nick of time. He told us to wait in here while he took care of Killer Frost. Is he... is he okay?"

The three people before us shared a look, before the detective's eyes slid over me and Dick standing beside me. I very intentionally didn't look at him, instead focusing on keeping my eyes wide and worried. After a moment, the detective sighed and shrugged.

"He's not here and Killer Frost is subdued on the floor, so I'd say it's safe to assume he's fine," she said. I sighed, letting my shoulders relax and leaning slightly into Dick. He slumped a little too, putting a hand on my shoulder, like the both of us were incredibly relieved. We sat down on the couch together while the detective made sure we were both alright, and then my producer and the show's host checked in as well. They'd obviously decided not to finish filming today, and Dick was kind enough and thankfully in town long enough that we were able to schedule an alternate filming day.

Once we'd finished going through plans and questions and being checked on, we were told to head outside and go home. Dick and I didn't say much to each other throughout the process, until we stepped outside the building together, the sun shining down on the both of us. I took a deep breath then turned to Dick, only to find him already watching me with a smile.

"Thanks for that," he said. I returned his smile.

"Thanks for saving the day," I replied. "And I know it wasn't really your choice to share... you know... with me, but I promise your secret's safe."

Dick met my eyes, the smile off his face and replaced by a much more serious expression. He took a breath, then slolwy nodded.

"I believe you. Thank you."

The corner of my mouth quirked up, and we just stayed there for a moment together, letting the new reality wash over us. Even though we'd only met today, and neither of us knew the other well, things felt different, and closer, than they had before, now that we'd shared such a wild experience today.

"So... I know tonight, you probably just want to go home and get some breathing room from everything," Dick started, his eyes drifting to the city around us as he spoke. I watched him carefully, one eyebrow raised. "But I was thinking... after I come back for our replacement shoot, maybe I could take you out to dinner once we're done? I at least owe you a drink for everything we just went through together."

I laughed. "You owe me a drink? I'm pretty sure Nightwing is the only reason I'm not a frozen popsicle in that studio right now."

Dick smiled, and I couldn't help mirroring his expression as my heart pounded in my chest.

"But... I'd love to take you up on dinner," I continued, ignoring the rush of blood and nerves in my ears. "As long as you know the first round of drinks is on me."

Dick absolutely beamed back at me.

"Deal. Here, let me get your number and we can coordinate the best place for dinner and drinks."

"Perfect," I said, somehow keeping my hand from shaking as I held out my phone to him and took his in return. We exchanged numbers, then shared another smile as we handed back each other's phones. "Well... I guess I'll see you soon, then?"

"Can't wait." He flashed a grin that made me melt, then took a step closer to me and lowered his voice. "And thanks again for all your help today. I really, really appreciate it."

I nodded. "Likewise. Happy I could help."

He shot me a wink and another smile, then backed away, heading down the street and away from the building that housed our studio. He waved over his head at me as he went.

"See you soon!" he called. I grinned and waved after him.

"See you soon!"

I watched him go until he turned a corner, then finally started making my own way home. I didn't expect to end the day with a date scheduled with Dick (no matter how many times Tara and I had joked about it), but I was certainly happy with the unexpected outcome, despite what it took to get here.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen

[a1307s]

Flickers of Green #2

(Dick Grayson & Jason Todd)

[Art is not mine! Credit to fish-goat]

Requested by: quirkyshortdumbo11

Keys:

Y/N: Your Name

Word Count: 6,214

Warnings and/or Pre-Notes:

Cursing

Mentions of Death

———————————————————————

I walk out of the abandoned building, the sounds of my gunshot and the now-dead drug lord's screaming still ringing in my head.

Nowadays it seems that these sounds comfort me more than Bruce ever could. Fucking Bruce. I hate him. I hate Batman. I hate the Joker. I hate myself for letting Y/N die. For dragging her to her death. For not being able to save her. For me being the one that's alive.

I can't let guilt cloud my mind right now. It's hard to kill someone as you're feeling guilty for causing the death of someone else. I need something to clear my head, something to reset myself. Coffee should help, it always did when I was originally alive.

I glance around, trying to get my wits together and figure out where the nearest coffee shop is. I tug my phone out of my jacket, taking a glance at the time. Nine thirty-two. Late but not too late, except for coffee. I don't know if anywhere with a decent cup of Joe will be open. I don't need that watered-down bean soup shit they serve at gas stations.

Pamela's cafe will be open. They're always open. I don't want to go there though. The last thing I need is more memories of Y/N.

I do a quick Google search, hoping to find any other cafe open, but I don't. I don't need coffee, but I do need something to eat and a donut sounds so good right now. I can't even remember what a donut tastes like. I'll just have to eat my feelings alongside the donut then.

I pull up Google Maps, glancing over it quickly before heading towards the cafe. The plus side of Pamela's is that the staff is pretty chill with anything; heroes, villains, and citizens alike.

It seems that in the past couple of years, the girls on staff have been adopted by some of the villains. I see Ivy, Scarecrow, and Harley coming and going from there a lot.

When I was at the Iceberg Lounge - aka Penguin's bar, strip club, and not-so-underground business - he mentioned that he "keeps up" on the girls and pays some of their tuition. He also mentioned there's a new girl that started a couple of months ago and that she's "a feisty little one that doesn't fear shit". That coming from Penguin is a bit of an honor. Not many people can get a compliment like that from him.

Maybe I'll meet this feisty new girl tonight. Maybe I'll take her home. I could use the distraction. However, I don't usually end up doing anything with them when I do get them home. I usually just lose my shit cause it's not the same as it was with Y/N.

I switch between being mad and being indifferent about being unable to move on from her. She died only ever loving me, why can't I live only ever loving her?

The neon lights of the cafe cut into my line of sight along with cutting through my thoughts. I forgot how obnoxious all the neon was. Standing right outside the cafe is Penguin and a young girl. She's in the 50s dinner uniform Pamela's staff wears. She's also wrapped up in a fancy-looking coat.

I feel half bad for the girl. If she's working at a cafe, she can't afford a coat like that, which means it's from the Penguin. It's never good for anyone - much less a young girl - to be in debt to Penguin.

My pace slows as I approach them. "Come on Feisty, just let me pay for your courses. Then you wouldn't have to work so much."

"No, I'm good. I don't mind supporting myself." The girl's voice is soft but firm as she speaks. Maybe she isn't as stupid as I thought.

"Listen here you little bitch-"

"No, you listen here you fucking flightless bird," the girl yells back, causing a bit of laughter to brew in my chest. "I already told you I don't want your money and unlike most of the other girls, I don't owe you shit so back off."

"And if I don't?" He asks, starting to turn the head on his cane. Under the head is usually a knife that Penguin is known to use on people when he doesn't get his way.

The girl yanks the cane away before any damage can be done, causing shock in both the bird and me. "If you don't I'll stab you to death with your own cane. Go back to your dumb pimp square." Penguin stands there for a second, just staring at the girl before he walks away mumbling to himself. His wobble is more present than usual now that he doesn't have his cane to support him. The club owner wasn't kidding about this girl not being scared of anything, or at least she was good at pretending.

Now that the fat man isn't in the way, I'm able to see the girl he was talking to. As my eyes scan over her my mind both empties and explodes. Standing in the neon lights is the spitting image of Y/N, which is impossible... because she's dead.

Or is it? I'm technically dead and yet here I am. But if she was alive, she would have looked for me, right? Like I did for her? She would at least be at the manor, right? Bruce would take her back in or at the very least Dick would... right? Or maybe she didn't want to go back to them. Maybe she's mad at them too.

Y/N - I think it's her - turns on her heels, heading down the road. I need to follow her. If she is my Y/N I need to know. I need to be a hundred percent certain. At the very least, if it's not Y/N I should still watch the girl get home safe after she disagreed with Penguin.

What if it's not Y/N? What if it is? What if this is a trap? Is Al Ghul fucking with my head again? Did he set this up to trap me back within the League? Even if he did, I need to know what's going on. Just in case it is a trap, I stay hidden. I'll have the element of surprise if shit does go south.

I follow this girl, not paying much attention to where she's going but making sure to keep pace with her. If it is my Y/N I can't lose her again from careless mistakes.

My mind runs a mile a minute as I trail her. I need answers, I need to hold her, I need her to be Y/N.

Maybe-Y/N turns, making my heart race. Fear of losing her around the corner mixes with the joy of a split second of light enveloping her.

I catch a glimpse behind her ear. When we were twelve, right before Bruce took us in, we thought it would be a good idea to give each other stick-and-poke tattoos. We tattooed each other's names behind our ears. My name is there, behind her left ear, in my chicken scratch handwriting. It has to be her. There's no way Al Ghul could know about that. I don't even think Bruce knows about our matching tattoos.

My pace quicks as I slide around the corner after her. I need her. I need to tell her I'm here. I need - it's a trap.

Hands land on me, throwing me to my right. My boots slide against the gravel on the sidewalk, aiding in me losing my balance. I fall hard, harder than the Roman Empire.

On my way down, my helmet comes into contact with a trash can. The noise echoes within my disguise, promising to give me a headache.

"What the hell?" I bark, quickly getting back to my feet. I should have known this was too good to be true. I should have known it was a trap. I should have known to pay attention to my surroundings. What the fuck is wrong with me?

Once the sound rattling around my helmet quiets some I'm able to get a grip on my surroundings. Standing in front of me is Dick Grayson in his signature black and blue spandex suit. "Fucking Nightwing," I husk out, shaking my head to get the last of the echoes out.

"Hood," he answers, positioning himself for a throwdown.

From my last run-in with Bruce, it's evident he knows who I am. Despite his attempt to hide it, the Bat was throwing his punches. I'm guessing from the greeting that he didn't share his findings with Dick.

But fine, if a fight is what Nightwing wants, a fight is what he'll get. It shouldn't be difficult to get him down.

I cautiously walk toward him, preparing myself to swing. One easy hit. Just one to knock him down long enough for me to sneak off and find Y/N.

I swing at him, but he ducks. What a little shit. I don't want trouble, I just want to go find - he thinks I'm stalking her. Dick thinks I'm stalking Y/N. Does he know it's Y/N?

"Just move aside, Wing, it's not what you think," I call out louder than I meant to. I throw another punch, trying to get him down again. I don't have time for this. I don't have the want to explain who I am and who I'm chasing after.

Dick needs to get out of my way before I lose Y/N. I can't lose her again. I'd burn the Earth to a crisp before I let that happen.

My thoughts distract me, making me lag as Nightwing tries to sweep my feet out from under me. I almost managed to avoid it but do end up tripping a bit from my late reaction.

"You're a notorious killer chasing after a girl, what else am I supposed to think?" Grayson calls, his cocky attitude present in his words. Well, that answers my question; he doesn't know it's Y/N. Or who I am. Or maybe he does and doesn't want me to know that he's connected to her. I hate the hush-hush behaviors we both inherited from Bruce.

I stumble back, again causing my helmet to come into contact with more metal. I'm definitely going to have a piercing headache for the next couple of hours. Great.

As the object behind me catches my fall, my guns slide across it, reminding me of their presence. If he's not going to go down with physical force, a gunshot sure as hell will work.

Nightwing approaches me, pulling his weapon out from behind his back. He's mumbling, probably answering whoever is on the other end of his coms. Great, I'm going to have to go through Batman too to get to Y/N. If that's the case, so be it. Bruce's name is as good as carved into my bullets if that's what it takes to get Y/N back.

I take Nightwing's distraction as a chance to get the upper hand. Being the asshole I am, I sweep Nightwing's feet out from under him. It's what he deserves and quite good karma. He stumbles back, landing on his back a couple of steps ahead of me.

No time is wasted as I start closing the gap between us. My gun feels heavy in my hand as I pull it out. Richard made his own grave trying to get between Y/N and me again, but that doesn't mean I like laying him in it. I watch as he grabs for one of his sticks as I tower over him. He can try all he wants but it won't stop me; nothing will stop me. Y/N will be safe from him, from Bruce, from the life I dragged her into it.

I level the barrel to his head debating if I should just end it here. It would be quite the message to Batman. "Lady don't!" A young voice screams out.

I glance up to find who else is present but before I can my eyes lock on Y/N. She's rushed and flustered as she races towards me. Before I can stop her, she's shoving the gun up towards the sky. "Don't shoot!" She shouts, her words followed by the sound of the gun going off.

Fear flickers through me before my senses come in. Y/N isn't shot, she can't be, the gun is pointed too high.

She stands in front of me, anger rooted in her eyes as she looks at me. There are flickers of green mixed in with her normal eye color. I take in the rest of her, letting my mind go silent as I look her over. Y/N has a strand of grey mixed in her hair, just like me. She has to be alive because of the Laza pit. She has the same greying hair and recent green added to her eyes, just like me. Mine were caused because of the pit, so hers have to be because of it too, right? Is she suffering from the same side effects I did because of the pit?

"What the fuck is your problem, you daft cow?" Y/N yells, tugging the weapon from my hand before I can stop her. I have to stop myself from laughing at the situation. It's too much like it was when we were younger. Dick and me going toe-to-toe and Y/N swooping in to break us up once again.

"Don't stand there and look dumb at me. What do you think you're doing?" She repeats herself, her attention turning towards the gun.

I shift to point it down, so she doesn't accidentally shoot herself, but she beats me to it. The barrel is pointed at the open pavement between our feet as her hands work on disconnecting the bullets from the gun.

Y/N's fingers look smooth and soft as they work. I want to touch them. I want to hold them in my hands. I want to press kisses into them. I want to touch her. I want to know she's real.

"I..." I start, my mouth feels heavy and suddenly full of cotton. "Hi." The word sounds loud when it tumbles out.

"Hello," Y/N says back, her eyes sparkling. The color I've grown so used to comforts me despite the newly added flickers of green. She's so bright and here and alive.

Her focus stays on me for a beat longer as she hands me back my gun. Our fingers bumping into each other, sending shivers up my spine. She's alive.

I let the feeling envelop me as my eyes switch from her face to staying locked on the shitty tattoo behind her ear. My mind is on overtime, running through a million questions even as Y/N moves up and down in front of me. I can hear her voice as she talks to Dick but it's hard to focus on processing her words.

My eyes snap back up as Y/N stands. She whispers something, the words lost in her uncomfortableness. Am I making her upset? Is Dick? I glance around her to hopefully see what shifted her tone. Since being distracted, Bruce's new Robin has appeared in front of us. Is he making her upset?

Y/N starts walking away, causing panic about losing her to wash over me. Before I can stop myself, I reach out for her, my hand wrapping around her arm to stop her movements. "Let..." I start again, my mouth still feeling dry, and it gets drier as Y/N turns towards me. "Let me walk you home." The words come out quieter than I thought they would.

Her eyes harden as she looks at me and shakes me off of her. "What the fuck is with all you superheroes? Two days ago, I had a frantic Batman shoving hundred-dollar bills into my hand. You have been trailing me for three blocks, you-" So she knows I was behind her? Does she know it's me? Does she not remember Bruce is Batman? What does she remember?

I shake my head again, trying to Etch-A-Sketch the thoughts out of my head. I focus my attention back on Y/N. Her hands are on her hips, her right one popped out. I want to touch her again. I want to put my hands on her hips. I want to feel her between my fingers. I want to feel her warmth against me. I want-

My thoughts are cut off again when Dick starts touching her. "I... Y/N?" Dick says his tone as quiet as mine was. All the love-struck feelings wash out of me and are replaced with anger and jealousy. I don't want him touching her. I should be touching her. She's mine. She's always been mine. What the fuck does Dick think he's doing?

"Good guess," Y/N answers, her figure relaxing some. Does she remember that Grayson is Nightwing? Why does she remember that but not that Bruce is Batman? Does she like him touching her?

"Y/N?" He repeats, his face scrunched up in confusion. He needs to stop touching her before I lose my shit.

Almost as if Y/N can read my thoughts, she shrugs him off and starts walking away again. "That's my name, don't wear it out." Her tune is light and happy, making butterflies flap around my stomach. Nightwing and I stay frozen, watching her slip out of the alleyway before vanishing from our sight.

Dick's attention turns back towards me. His eyes are watery. Apparently, I'm not the only secret Bruce has been keeping from him, how in tune for the bat. "What's next? You going to end up being Jason Todd?" He asks, a sad laugh following. It tinges my heart, almost making me regret being willing to kill him a few minutes ago.

I hum a bit, turning towards the direction Y/N went in as I think about what I'm going to do. I start heading after her before changing my mind. I know she's alive and in town. That's all that matters. It'll be best for her if I back off, give her time to think over the event, and give Dick time to tattle to Bruce so I can see how they'll react. I glance at Nightwing behind me before opening my mouth again, "We both know that Y/N being alive isn't the only secret Bruce Wayne is hiding from the world."

I let the words hang behind me as I walk away. Waiting to go after Y/N also gives me time to think over what I'm going to do. If she doesn't remember parts of her life - if any of it - I don't need to scare her away by coming off too strong.

———————————

My heart jumps around as I walk up the path from the other day. The neon lights are still obnoxious as fuck, but I don't mind. Y/N will be there. I know she will. I've been watching her, keeping tabs on her, getting the hang of her schedule. I know, I know, I know. I sound like a stalker. But it's not stalking. It's... intel collecting.

I know she'll be here. She works until nine-thirty, so unlike the other night, I come in earlier, so I have time to see her. Time to talk to her. I also know they're not too busy at night so the cafe will at least be mostly empty, if not completely deserted.

From my stalk- intel collecting, I know Dick came in earlier to talk to her. I don't know what they talked about though. I don't know if I want to know. It pissed me off seeing Dick with Y/N. Pissed me off seeing him touch her again. Pissed me off seeing the smile that stayed on her face even after she left the cafe for class.

What does Dick think he's doing? I'm not stupid or blind. Hell, even a blind man can see how down-hard Dick is for Y/N. Even when we were younger, he pretty much had hearts in his eyes anytime Y/N was around. She wanted me last time; she'll want me this time too... I think.

The jingle of the bell on the door competes with my heartbeat for space in my ears. Sitting in one of the bar chairs at the coffee island is Y/N. Scarecrow is next to her, helping her with her chemistry homework. I'm not thrilled about this arrangement but at least Y/N is getting the academic help she needs.

"Hello!" Y/N peeps out, sending a smile at me as her attention turns away from Scarecrow. Her eyes soften when she focuses on me. "It's you again."

"It's me again," I mumble, taking slow steps towards her.

Scarecrow stands up, placing himself between Y/N and me. He's always been a small man, even when I was a kid, but he seems even smaller nowadays. "Again?" He asks, trying to look intimidating. He's barely intimidating when he's in his suit, and definitely isn't when he's dressed like a civilian.

"Again," Y/N peeps up, her voice still airy and soft. The same voice that used to whisper sweet nothings into my ear until I fell asleep most nights. "Helmet man here walked me home after I argued with Penguin the other night."

"You got into an argument with Penguin?" Crow asks, turning his attention from me to Y/N. "What did he want?"

"You know, the usual. He wants me in debt to him for another body to do his bidding," She teases a soft smile on her face in an attempt to comfort Crow. Scarecrow shifts around a bit glancing at me a few times.

I step aside, standing next to the skinny man and joining him looking at Y/N. She's so pretty, even out of her style and in the dumb uniform for the cafe. "Can I buy you a coffee?" I ask her, slowly tugging my helmet off as well as making sure the mask under it stays in place. The last thing I need is Scarecrow knowing I'm Jason Todd.

"Look at you, pulling all the guys today," Crow half teases, sending glares my way.

"I guess so," Y/N says, her smile even bigger as she scans over my face. Maybe she does know who I am.

"I have something to deal with. Will you be okay if I leave?" Crow asks, his attention not being pulled from me.

"I'll be fine. I'm pretty confident that I can take him if need be." Y/N giggles at herself, pulling a soft chuckle from Crow as well. He nods at her before turning on his heels and walking off. "What do you want to drink?" She asks, standing up and sliding behind the counter.

"I'll have whatever you're going to have." She hums, starting to make whatever it is she's making. I watch her move around, my eyes drinking in every moment. Memories flow in and out as I watch her. Memories of her hands on me, her lips on me, of her laugh, of her. "What do you think he's off to go do?" I ask, being careful not to call him Scarecrow in case she doesn't know. It would be better if Y/N didn't know; it would be one less person to protect her from.

She hums, her hands working at pouring our drinks out. "He's probably going to go line the fog machines in the Iceberg with fear gas. He gets pretty pissy when Penguin fucks with the staff." So, she does know. Is that good or bad? Probably good in this situation. "Here you go," She murmurs, pushing my cup towards me before walking back around the counter with her drink.

Y/N slides back into her seat, patting the one next to her. I obey, sitting down. Her eyes stay locked on me, the flickers of green swirling around them as she stares. The space is quiet, the only sound being us sipping on our coffees. "Are you stalking me?" She asks, filling in the space and causing me to choke a bit.

My lungs force out a cough in an attempt to counteract my choking. Y/N's eyes stay locked on me, the green standing out as she watches. "I... no?" Why the fuck did that come out as a question? That's pretty counterproductive. "No, I'm not." That's better... maybe.

She hums again, sipping on her coffee as she thinks over my answer. "Defiantly seems like you're stalking me. Most people don't sneak around and follow me all day." Once again silence falls between us. How am I supposed to respond to that?

Y/N sits in silence, enjoying her coffee as she watches me. Even though I know she's suspicious of me, I still find comfort in her gaze. "I don't remember much of my life before six months ago so if I'm supposed to know you, I'm not avoiding you. I just don't know who you are, so you don't need to sneak around me; you just need to talk to me. Well, and be patient please." She says, being the one to break the silence again.

Oh... So, she doesn't know anything. That's... scary. For many reasons. "Is there anything you do remember?" I ask, gently pushing my coffee back and forth between my hands.

"Snip bits of stuff. Though some things have started coming back since I ran into Nightwing and you. Some more came back after my coffee chat with Richard Grayson too."

Don't fucking say his name. Don't say it. You should be saying my name. Should be remembering stuff because of me. Not because of fucking Dick. "Oh ya?" I peep out, glaring ahead of me at the menu instead of focusing my anger on Y/N.

"Mmhmm..." She falls silent, nodding her head back and forth as if she's trying to wiggle her thoughts around. "Helmet man-"

"Red Hood," I say, cutting her off with my correction.

I turn my attention back to her, being met with her eyes already on me. "You're my Jason, right?"

"Ya," I push out, suddenly finding it hard to breathe. The word 'my' repeats nonstop in my head, bouncing around my brain as I try to sort through my feelings of bliss.

"I think I love you," She whispers, her hand dipping back behind her ear to mess with her tattoo.

The bliss is all washed away once the words hit my ears. She thinks she loves me? Does she not remember loving me? Of course not, Y/N doesn't remember anything. Well, at least a small piece of her remembers me. Remembers me enough to know she's supposed to love me and that's good enough. There's enough hope there for me to build on.

"Well, I know I love you," I whisper back, keeping my eyes on her to see her reaction. She's still looking at me, her eyes shining.

She hums a bit, tilting her head as she scans me again. "Can I take your mask off?" Y/N asks, her hands slow and gentle as they slide over my cheeks and come into contact with the mask covering my eyes.

"Ya."

Her fingers are soft as they snap off my mask. The joy drains from me as the warmth from her touch is removed. "Your eyes are green... I remember them being blue," Y/N says, her fingertips soon back on my cheeks.

I can feel my cheeks heating up, both from a blush and the hands present on my skin. "They used to be, now they're green." Y/N hums, running her fingers over my cheekbones before sliding them into my hair. I let my eyes close, soaking in her touches. It's calming, being able to be so close to her again, feeling her touch me again, feeling proof that she's alive. I lean forward a bit, getting close enough to feel Y/N's soft breathing coat my face. "Can..." Asking to kiss her might be a little much right now. Maybe I shouldn't ask.

"Can you what?" Y/N prompts, her hands dropping down to my shoulders.

My eyes snap open and once again they're met with the familiar color and the newly added flickers of green. Why did she only get slivers and mine completely changed color? "Can I take you on a date?" I finally ask, shifting a bit so our noses are touching. God, I want to kiss her. I want to hold her. I want her in every way possible. It's going to kill me having to work back up to that.

"I'd like that, Jason."

Yes. God, yes. "Say my name again," I mumble, rubbing my nose against hers.

"Jason," She whispers, bopping my nose with her own before pulling away from me.

———————————

Butterflies flap around my stomach, threatening to come up in a not-pretty way. My hands shake as I lift one to knock on the door of Y/N's apartment. The knocking feels loud as I do it. Maybe I knocked too loud.

The door swings open soon after, the door frame filling with the image of Y/N. She's dressed up with her hair down to cup her face. "Hi," I breathe out, my eyes drinking her in. She's so pretty, so perfect, so alive.

"Hello," she answers back, her eyes glancing at my hand. "You got me flowers?" Y/N asks, leaning against the door frame.

"Oh ya," I bark out, definitely too loud, as I push the bouquet toward her. I couldn't decide what flowers to get so I ended up getting three different bouquets and had the lady mix them. "Your favorite flowers are orange roses, but I didn't know if you still liked them or not, so I panicked and got more flowers than you probably need or want." That was dumb. Why did I say that? I feel like a thirteen-year-old with his first crush again.

"I still like orange roses," Y/N tells me, taking the flowers from me before walking back through the door. I follow after her, making sure to close the door behind me. Her apartment is small but cozy. There's not much in her home either but I guess that's expected since Y/N doesn't know herself.

There is a small couch and one of those old, bulky, shitty TVs tucked into her living room. The apartment smells nice, like pork and chili pepper. A million different dishes are stacked up around her countertop in the kitchen. "What are you making?" I ask her, sliding my jacket off before laying it on the couch.

"I'm making Pozole. I remember you liking it. Or I think you liked it. Somebody did at least," She mumbles a bit, keeping her attention to the pot on the stove in front of her.

"I like pozole. Alfred and you used to make it for me all the time."

Y/N's eyes light up at my words, making my chest fill with the warmth of joy. I walk into the cramped kitchen, making sure to stay out of her way as I stand in her presence. I watch her like a hawk as she works away, letting the warmth of the stove and the smell of dinner fill the space between us. For the first time in two years, I finally feel okay, finally feel at peace.

"You didn't answer my question the other day," I voice, sliding in closer to her. I want to hold her; I want to wrap my arms around her waist. I debate it for a second. I don't want to scare her off.

"What question?" Y/N asks, glancing at me before turning back to her project at hand.

"Is there anything you remember from our - er - your life?"

Y/N snaps the heat off, continuing to stir the pot as she thinks it over. "There's not a lot I do remember. I'm starting to remember this dude named Wally, I think. I don't know. I'm going to talk to Dick about him tomorrow. I remember a bit about Dick too but not much. I remember a bit about you... about us." Her eyes glance at me, before turning back to our dinner. She picks up some heat absorbers, wrapping them around the pot before setting it on a cutting board on the counter.

She's talking to Dick? About her memories? Or lack thereof, I guess. I don't want her talking to him. What's he going to say to her? What has he already said to her? What ideas is he putting into Y/N's head? Has Dick tried anything with her?

"What do you remember about us?" I ask, trying to push for more information as I try to forget my worried thoughts.

Y/N floats around the kitchen, taking out dishes for our food. My eyes trail her as she moves around the small space. "Umm... I remember us kissing a lot."

I chuckle a bit at that response. We do - did kiss a lot. We did other things a lot too. "Ya, ya we kissed a lot. We were very... touchy." Y/N giggles a bit as she makes our plates. My eyes keep glancing from her face to her hips. I really want to touch her. Before I can stop myself, I push off the counter I'm leaning on and wrap her up in me. My hands are firm on her hips and her back is pressed into my chest as I bury my head into her neck.

Y/N stiffens a bit in my hold before relaxing her muscles again. "We danced a lot too," I mumble into her neck, softly shifting her hips so we can sway together. She sways with me, her body weight feeling so good against mine. "You liked to read out loud to me too."

"Do you not know how to read?" She teases, shifting in my hold so we're face to face.

"I know how to read, I just read too slow for your liking."

"Oh ya?"

"Absolutely not, I just like your voice," I answer, lifting my head from her neck and placing our noses next to each other.

Y/N's hands slide up my arms, resting on my shoulders. "Our favorite book is The Great Gatsby, ya?"

My heart swells a bit at her words. "Ya, it is," I whisper, trying to focus my eyes on hers instead of her lips. It doesn't work so I decide to close my eyes, letting myself focus on her body heat instead. We stay silent, sitting like this, with me holding her. I could stay like this forever.

"Could you kiss me?" Y/N mumbles, shifting in my hold.

My eyes snap open, taking in her face. I roll the words over in my head. I already thought holding her was much for a "first date" and now she's asking me to kiss her? Maybe this is a trap. Maybe I'm making her feel like we have to move fast. Maybe Al Ghul is fucking with my head somehow. "Why?" I peep out, loosening my grip on her.

"Well, my therapist says doing stuff I used to do can help with my memories coming back. We were together ya?"

"Ya, we still are." Her face pinches some as her body stiffens again. Maybe I shouldn't have said that. It isn't fair of me to expect a relationship from Y/N. She doesn't even know who she is, let alone who I am.

"Well, I thought maybe kissing you again would help. We don't have to-"

"I really want to kiss you," I say, cutting her off, and tightening my grip on her again. Y/N's hands slide to the back of my neck, her fingers shaking a bit against my skin but her body relaxes again. "Close your eyes," I mumble, sliding my nose against hers again.

Y/N obeys, fluttering her eyes shut. I take my time, trailing kisses across her nose, her eyes, and her cheeks, before placing myself above her mouth. I soak this scene in for a second before closing the gap between us. Her lips are soft against mine and taste like mint gum.

I shift my hands up, cupping her neck with one and softly dipping the other into her hair. All my need and want and love is boiled into the kiss. Our lips shift against each other for a while, the kiss getting heated way more than it meant.

As my lungs start burning, Y/N pulls back, making me a bit sad. I'd gladly suffocate to death from her kiss. "Jason," She murmurs, her words a little slurred.

"Say it again," I whisper back, tilting my head so our lips are close again.

"Jason," She mutters again. Her lips brush against mine as she speaks.

Fucking Christ. This is too hot, too heated, too much for her right now but I can't stop thinking about hearing her whisper my name all night. "I can't wait for you to fall in love with me again," I say, keeping my tone at a whisper as I glance over her face.

"Why is that?" Y/N asks, her fingers tangling into my hair.

"Because I still love you so fucking much."

———————————————————————

[cipheress-to-k-pop]

academic rivals d.g.

Pairing: Dick Grayson as Robin x Reader

Warnings: Some injuries.

Word Count: 4.3K

A/N: Full discretion this idea was given to me by an anon and even though I said I wasn't taking requests I just couldn't resist.

Also @writing2sirvive I hope you find this offer acceptable after not writing for our baby for so long 😭😭

There was always a slight pinch of anxiety when your teacher went around the class, handing back your test papers after grading them and you waited with slightly bated breath, a fist clutching the fabric of your uniform.

Even though you knew you had done well on the exam, you were particularly unnerved by her declaration before distributing the stack of papers that only one person had managed to get a perfect score.

You kept your eyes trained on your desk, waiting for someone behind you to exclaim that they had gotten a 100% but it never came. Not until your teacher had placed your paper in front of you with a soft 'Good job'.

You beamed, barely able to contain your excitement as you waited for the bell to ring.

Of course, you were over the moon that you got a 100. And that you were the only person in the entire class that managed to get one.

But secretly, you were more elated by the fact that someone else didn't.

"Aw, what's wrong Grayson? Your daddy finally run out of money to bribe your teachers with?" You snarked as soon as you caught a glance of the 93 written in red at the top of his paper.

"Sub-par insult, (L/N)." He said flatly.

"I disagree, nothing about me is sub-par, as you can clearly see." A sly grin on your face as you waved your paper with '100' in his face. He rolled his eyes so far back you couldn't resist making a comment, "Roll your eyes as hard as you want, Grayson, you won't be able to find a brain back there."

His friend, Barbara, who was sitting beside him chuckled at this and he turned to her with an irritated glare, "Can I help you?"

She gave him a teasing smile, unnerved by his annoyance toward her, "Oh, nothing, I'm just eagerly waiting for the day you both stop pretending you hate each other and start dating."

It seemed like her comment had just the effect she had wanted when Dick choked on his spit in his haste to argue that even if you were the last person on Earth, he wouldn't go near you with a 10-foot-pole.

"I'm not too happy to agree with you, Grayson but I, very fortunately, have a boyfriend."

His face twisted, "Gross, who'd wanna date you?"

You gave him a fake smile, "Hopefully, not you."

***

"Recognized: Domino, B-08."

You squealed in joy the second the light faded from your eyes, gaze landing on your boyfriend who stood right outside the zeta tube with a giant smile on his face.

You threw your arms around Robin's neck with a giggle, peppering his lips with smiley kisses that he so enthusiastically returned, his arms snug around your waist.

"Do you guys have to do this every time?" Came Conner's unimpressed voice as he shuffled uncomfortably around the two of you making out, "Can you at least stop doing it in the middle of the entrance? People are trying to get places."

You pulled away with a soft blush, smiling at the sight of your sparkly lip gloss on Robin's mouth and his slightly dazed expression. There was nothing like your kisses that was able to knock the vigilante's world off its axis and it had been this way ever since you started dating 10 months ago.

The pair of you were still very much in the honeymoon phase, much to the chagrin of your teammates, who have walked in on you many times while your lips were practically glued to each other.

"How was your day?" Robin finally asked when you had each gotten your fair share of kisses, leading you to the kitchen for a snack before the mission briefing and you beamed, "Amazing! I got a perfect score on that test from last week!"

He raised a brow, "The one that you skipped a date to study for?"

Smiling, you nodded, "The very one."

He sighed, taking a box out of the fridge, "See? I told you that you'd do great! You probably didn't even need to skip our date."

You rolled your eyes, giggling at his pout that you were all too quick to kiss away, "Hey now, I made it up to you, didn't I?"

Nodding, he pushed the box further toward you with a smile, "You did. Which is why I got you this, but I guess it could be for a job well done too."

You gasped when you saw the squiggles of the familiar logo of your favourite bakery on the top of the box and eagerly opened it up, completely missing the fact that it had been sealed with tape and nearly ripping the carboard to shreds in order to get to the treats inside.

The smell of the strawberry shortcake and red velvet cupcake had you salivating, and you wasted to time before digging in.

"Ugh, I love you." You moaned, nearly dissolving into the symphony of flavours and Robin chuckled swiping some of the cream cheese frosting off your cheek before licking it off his thumb, "Are you talking to me or the cupcake?"

You paused, glancing up at him from the cupcake wrapper, "I can love more than one thing."

His affectionate gaze had you melting, forgetting the delicious treat for a second, "Thank you for the gift, I really love it."

Robin happily accepted the sugary kiss you had given him, "Well, I figured, since it had been a while since we had a date in Gotham, you'd be craving it."

You only took another bite of the cupcake to hide your guilty wince. While the list of details you didn't know about your boyfriend was limitless, starting with his name and ending with literally anything else, you felt guilty that he somehow knew even less about you.

At least you knew what city he lived in while he was under the impression that you lived in Star City with Dinah, your mentor. You really thought he wouldn't buy it, especially after he didn't believe Artemis the first time.

But nearly a year after joining the team it would seem that he was still blissfully unaware, and you were planning to reveal your identity to him soon enough. You were firm that you wouldn't be celebrating your one-year anniversary without knowing each other's names at least.

At least once he found out you were living in the same city, you'd be able to have more frequent dates.

"Team to mission room." You heard over the PA, and you grabbed the box with you to the meet Batman and Canary along with the team, unwilling to leave your precious strawberry shortcake at the hands of Wally. This way you'd be able to dislocate his shoulder the second he put his hands on your things.

When you entered the room to find a face that you recognized on the holoscreen, you paused and glanced at Artemis who shrugged in response.

"Leo 'The Lion' Stark, the leader of the cult that was kidnapping young girls was officially incarcerated this morning."

Cheers erupted around the room, and you passed the box in your hands to your boyfriend to high-five Artemis and bring her into a hug. Black Canary patted the both of you on the shoulder, "Job well done on this mission, you two."

The mission that led to his arrest had been an undercover op with both you and Artemis posing as the girls from the private school that was being targeted. Eventually, you were able to find the leader and put a stop to his entire organization.

You had never seen Robin more fearful for your life than during this mission and it was after it that you had said your first I love you's.

"Today's mission is a covert op. For stealth, I will only be sending two members of the team: Robin and Domino."

Robin sent you a smile and you squeezed your interlocked fingers underneath the table.

"If they can stop kissing long enough to actually get the mission done." Conner grumbled underneath his breath and was rewarded with a swift kick to the knee.

***

It happened too quickly.

Everything was going fine. The mission was well underway, and you had observed them long enough to know where they were keeping their illegal servers. All that was left was to input your program that would upload all their data wirelessly so it could be accessed by the league.

Then it all went wrong, all at once.

You don't even remember much of what happened. All you knew is that when you had least expected it, someone had snuck up on you and you had felt your stomach squeeze with a painful terror that you hadn't experienced in a long time upon being caught off-guard.

"The Lion sends his greetings."

What followed was a series of excruciating shocks up your body that had your heartbeat ceasing in your chest and the movement of every single muscle came to a standstill such that you couldn't even make a sound come out of your throat.

You didn't even have the time to think about anything before you lost consciousness, the last thought flashing through your head being your worry for Robin.

And then every single pulse in your head came to an abrupt end.

“Come on hero, come on!” Robin panted as he continued to pump his hands against your chest, counting down the beats in his head to the compressions, “Baby please, please wake up!”

He was in tears, even though he tried to control them, but he had been looking at your unconscious face for the last 30 minutes as he continuously tried to revive you. His stomach was in knots and his chest felt like it was on fire, but he still didn’t quit, he wouldn’t until he passed out himself.

Before he could even stop himself, he was sobbing and the wails he let out erased the count he was keeping in his head, “Someone please help! Please help.”

His communicator lay discarded only a couple of feet beside him, but he couldn’t take his hands off you for a second, he couldn’t mess up the beat, he couldn’t stop the chest compressions because you’d die; and he’d die right alongside you.

“Robin, come in. Robin, can you hear me?”

His chest collapsed in a fit of sobs as soon as he heard the sound of his mentor come through from the communicator. The device beeped with the sound that alerted him of an override indicating that his mentor could now listen in.

“Batman help! She’s not breathing! I don't think she has a pulse! I’m trying to do CPR but she’s not awaking up! Please help!”

“Hang in there, Robin. Someone will be there in five.”

***

"She's alive but her brain was deprived of oxygen for a while so we can't accurately put a time frame on when she could wake up." Batman explained, his voice as stiff as concrete like always but the hand he placed on his ward's shoulder was warm and comforting.

There were so many questions rushing through Robin's head, but he kept silent because a part of him already knew the answer. This wasn't the first time he had seen something like this, while being Robin he had seen countless families, parents, spouses, receive the same news.

The distraught questions would usually follow: would take months? years? is there a chance that she could never wake up? is there anything he could do?

He wanted to ask Batman anyway, he wanted Batman to lie and say that everything would be okay, that the girl he loved would wake up soon and he just had to wait but he knew better than anyone that was all it would be. Lies.

There were those that were fortunate enough for their loved one to eventually wake up. Others would be forced to watch life go by while their loved ones were imprisoned to a bed with the empty hope that one day they'd wake up.

So, he swallowed down all his questions, Adam's apple bobbing painfully in his throat, "Can I see her?"

His father nodded, leading him to the med-bay with one hand on his back. Robin felt his stomach sink with every step he took, staring sullenly at his sock-clad feet. In his rush to change after the mission so he could get to you as soon as possible, he had thrown on anything he could find.

Which resulted in him being dressed in your sweatpants and his hoodie that you had stolen so often it smelt like you; a combination that both comforted him and broke his heart all at once.

When he saw you from the door, a rush of epiphanies struck through him like lightning to a metal rod. Although, first and foremost, he was just relieved to see you. Even though it hurt him to see you unconscious, and he knew that there was a chance he'd never get to see you awake again, a part of him forgot all about that as soon as he saw you.

He took quick steps toward you, wanting nothing more than to feel your skin against his when he stopped in his tracks once again with wide eyes, realizing you were without your mask.

"Robin?"

"I-I know her. (Y/N) (L/N), s-she's in my class." He stammered, staring at your relaxed features with his mouth hanging open. As odd as it sounded, this was the first time he had ever seen you, as (Y/N), so relaxed.

Whether it was a scowl or even just a grimace, you always seemed to be frowning at him and he never bothered to pay any attention to you outside of classes, when you were talking with your friends. He was sure you'd have a mesmerizing grin, one that would reach your beautiful eyes.

Batman stayed silent behind him, and Dick wondered just how many times Bruce had heard him talking shit about the love of his life, having to keep silent to respect your privacy. His cheeks coloured, remembering the conversation from this morning, where he had claimed that he would never touch you even with a 10-foot pole.

If only he had known that he had been pressed against the same girl so many nights prior.

"Does it matter?" Batman asked, snapping him out of his mortified state where he remembered every single insult he had ever directed at you, either to your face or behind your back.

To anyone else, it would have sounded like a shallow question, but Dick knew his father was concerned about whether his feelings would have changed, whether your identity did matter to him more than your relationship or his love for you.

He swallowed, walking up to your bedside, and gently brushing a strand of hair away from your face and for the first time in his life, he took in all your features. It was startling how quickly his worst enemy became the most beautiful person in the world.

"No, it doesn't."

***

You could see the bright light even though your eyes were shut. There was nothing more you wanted than to slip back into your deep slumber but for some reason your consciousness began trickling back into your head in a gentle stream.

You squirmed, brows pinching together in a frown as you murmured something unintelligible, features twitching until finally your eyes began to flutter open.

"(Y/N)?" You heard and your hand was squeezed by someone you couldn't quite place. Your vision was still quite blurry, and you were extremely disoriented. Still, you tried to blink through the hazy shapes in your sight and you managed to recognize a familiar head of black hair.

"Baby?" You breathed out, sighing in relief when he pressed a kiss to your knuckles, "Thank goodness you're okay."

Right before you had lost consciousness, a thought had flashed into your head. Robin would never abandon you there, no matter what had happened to you, if you had died or just lost consciousness.

You worried that in his effort to stick by you, he'd be hurt or worse.

"Me? (Y/N), you were unconscious for two days! Do you have any idea how worried I've been?!"

If you had been any more conscious, you probably would've been concerned over the way his voice broke in grief and his heartbroken words but in your exhaustion, all you could do was give him a silly smile, wishing your eyes could focus long enough for you to see his beautiful face.

"I'm okay now, I'm okay."

"I didn't think you would be." He confessed, pressing another kiss to your fingertips, holding your hand gingerly but still in a firm grip in between both of his. Like he was scared you'd evaporate and disappear before his eyes.

"I'm okay, baby. Just a little sleepy." You told him, feeling your consciousness slip further and further away as your blinks began to get longer and longer and your strength began to disappear, "You'll be here when I wake up, right?"

He nodded, voice thick with unshed tears even though you couldn't see him, "Yeah. I'll be right here."

***

This time when you woke, you felt much more refreshed than you had before. Your head didn't feel like it was nailed to the pillow anymore, but it felt like you had lead in your veins which was expected considering you had been unconscious for days.

Despite his promise, Robin was nowhere to be found when you finally sat up, stretching your arms as much as you could, careful of the IV in your hand. Your eyes darted around the familiar med-bay, trying to catch a glance of the clock by craning your neck but was ultimately unsuccessful.

Was it a weekday? Was it school hours? Was that why Robin wasn't at your side like you had asked him? What about you? What excuse had Batman given the school to explain your sudden absence? Were your parents aware that you had been injured?

The endless barrage of questions was silenced to a mum when you heard the door slide open and you sighed in relief, noticing the head of black hair first, "I believe you promised to be here when I wo—!"

Dick Grayson was beaming at you and in certain angles of the light, his blue eyes almost looked glossy with tears, but you shook your head unconsciously. Why would he be crying at the sight of you?

'Because you're so ugly the sight is making my eyes water.' Would have been his classic response and you practically rolled your eyes at the thought.

"(Y/N), you're awake!" He took a step closer, and you flinched.

"Stop right there!" He quite literally froze in his steps, he might as well have been encased in ice at the receiving end of your cold glare, "What the hell are you doing here, Grayson?"

He paused and somehow you were annoyed by the dumbfounded look on his face while multiple scenarios ran through your head. A concussion, brain injury or something along that likeness. Perhaps the part of your brain responsible for recognizing faces was damaged and this wasn't actually Dick Grayson. Amnesia, possibly? Maybe you were actually good friends with him but managed to forget it all? Of course, there was always the possibility this was a dream.

Your brow twitched at his lack of response, "I asked you a question."

At your terse tone, it seemed like he was finally able to snap himself out of his stupor, "(Y/N), baby, it's me."

You scowled, "Don't call me that and speak clearly; the hell do you mean by 'me'?"

"Baby," He said again, so firmly that you were silenced in your effort to snap at him again, "It's me."

Dick watched as your face melted from an expression of disgruntled bewilderment to the smallest sliver of recognition. Your eyes raked over his body, only now noticing that he was in short sleeves, and you were able to see the familiar scar on his forearm that belonged to your boyfriend. The little patch of freckles near his elbow that you had traced with your finger so many times before.

Your voice was small when you called him again, "Rob?"

He nodded and your eyes went wide, not quite able to believe it. Your boyfriend stood stiffly, berating himself for not handling this better. He had very quickly gotten over the fact that his girlfriend was his greatest rival in high school while he watched your unconscious face for the past couple of days, waiting for you to wake up.

It had completely slipped his mind that you were still unaware of his identity, and he swallowed nervously. Sure, it was something he could easily put past him but were you the same?

Robin knew you inside and out, he knew how much you loved him, but he didn't know how just much you hated Dick Grayson. Was that hate enough to overpower your love for him?

You stared at him in surprise for only a minute, but it felt like hours to him before you closed your eyes and leaned your head back, "Wow."

"This-This doesn't change anything right?" He began, feeling the lump in his throat grow three sizes larger when you turned to him with an expression that was not a reassuring smile like he had wanted.

"Are you kidding? This changes everything! Barbara is never going to let us hear the end of this. And my friends? Oh, they've hated you ever since that incident during our group presentations." You exclaimed, fingers twitching, and Dick knew it was because you wanted to flail your arms around but couldn't because of the IV.

He bit his lip. You weren't outright rejecting him or anything, but he needed to hear you say it and he needed to hear it as soon as possible.

"No—(Y/N), does this change anything between us?"

You paused, stopping in the middle of your tangent to give him a confused glance, "Between us? No. Why would it?"

And just like that, the tension in his muscles evaporated away and he relaxed, approaching to your side like he wanted to and interlacing your fingers, "I love you."

You finally smiled at him, leaning to kiss his lips, "I love you more, even though you said I was gross and that no one would ever want to date me."

"Well, to be fair you said you'd hope I never did, so I guess we're even."

***

"Hey, stranger." It really didn't make sense that after almost a year of dating, your boyfriend's voice still managed to send shivers down your spine. You closed your locker shut before turning to meet the beautiful blue eyes that you grew to love.

It was scary how quickly you completely rewired your brain into loving every single feature belonging to Dick Grayson.

"Hi, Grayson."

His eyes dipped to your lips for a second, mentally scolding himself for turning to putty the second you said his last name. It was weird how the last time you both were in school together, he thought that the sound of his name coming from your mouth was like nails on a chalkboard.

Now, he felt like he had been blessed just by being in your presence.

"I have all the assignments and notes that you missed the past week." You had been ordered bed rest and some physiotherapy to regain complete mobility after being unconscious for a couple of days. Under your boyfriend's watchful care, he had dutifully nursed you back to health.

You smiled when he handed you the stack of papers even though the heft of it made you want to cry. All this work from just a week? All the AP classes you had been taking in order to compete with your own boyfriend had come back to bite you in the ass.

"Thank you. Can I come over later so you can help me out with it?"

It was really a formality that you were asking because you both knew he was obviously going to say yes. But you figured you'd do the polite thing and ask the first time. After today though his room would practically be yours, just as your room would now be his personal hideout.

"Of course, baby. I've been dying to introduce you to Alfred. We can go back to mine together after school."

You nodded, starting when you heard the bell, "I have Physics." You bemoaned, it being the only class Dick didn't take with you. He had opted for a language instead, which you were beginning to think was more useful than whatever you learnt anyway.

He gave you a smile, eyes twinkling when he slanted his lips over yours in a soft kiss and you had to pull away quickly before you forgot just where you were.

His disappointed pout was all too quick to disappear when you reminded him that you'd be going home with him that day, "I'll see you later."

The two of you parted ways with delirious smiles, feeling too much like you were wafting on cloud nine, completely unbeknownst to the small crowd of people that watching your entire interaction with wide eyes.

Barbara, who was stood at the centre of the flock, smirked, and held out her hand, "Pay up bitches."

***

Bonus:

"I'm surprised you didn't figure out her identity earlier, Dick. Aren't you supposed to be a great detective?" Wally teased and your boyfriend rolled his eyes.

"It's not that I couldn't find out, I just didn't try."

"How come?"

He spared you a glance and shrugged, "She asked me not to."

"I don't remember you offering me the same consideration." Artemis sniped but he knew it was all in good nature.

"You aren't nearly as pretty." He replied coolly, making you blush.

***

Forever Taglist:

@simonsbluee

@notslaybabes

@superheroesaremyjam113263

@writers-whirlwind

DC Taglist:

@emmacata

@p--e--a--c--h--e--s

@sometimeseverythingsucks

@sokkas-honour

@unstable1902

@lostgirlheart

@missdisapear

@tadpole-san

@isawachickeninatree

@uxavity

@battlenix

@capricorn-stark

@evermoore580

@dumbbitchgalore

@fuckingjinkies

@some-lovely-day

[zyhkoo]

♡ flowers for me? - batboys x gn!reader

fluff

you gave the batboys flowers

a/n: I have no idea how to write tim, i hope i did him justice

Jason Todd

You handed him a bouquet of roses in his hand. Jason raised his brow “What’s this?” you answered his question “Right, so when someone places a seed-“

He rolls his eyes and cuts you off “I know what they are I mean what are these for?” he asked, getting to the point. You only shrugged “Flowers, a flower shop opened beneath my apartment and I wanted to give you some.” you replied.

Jason looks at the roses and then back at you “Eh, I’m not really a flower person..” he says, a frown formed on your face.

“Yeah, my bad. I’ll just return them-“ as you were about to reach the flowers on his hand he shields them away from you.

“No, I.. I never said I didn’t want it. Plus it's red, so I like it.” he looks away from your gaze, your smile returns from your face.

“I’ll give you way more red flowers then.” you said excitedly.

“Do whatever.” though it looked like he didn’t care, deep down he felt very happy for some reason.

Dick Grayson

You handed him a bouquet of Daisies “For me?” he smiles. You nodded “I got it from my mini-garden, there were a lot so I decided to give a few to you.” you answered.

He took the bouquet and admired it “Well, this is beautiful. Thank you, I’m happy.” he smiles as he kisses your forehead, you softly smile at his gesture.

“You think you have a vase for this?” you asked, Dick stays silent. “Uh, hold on a second.” he goes through his cupboards and finds an empty pitcher.

He then goes to the sink and fills water “Give it here.” he says, you nodded and you carefully placed the daisies in. You had a little trouble inserting it at first but with a little force if fitted perfectly.

“There we go.”

Tim Drake

You were on your phone, looking around. You were on a date with Tim today and this is the meeting place you both agreed on.

“Why do you have flowers?” Tim asks, scaring you from behind “Oh, jeez!” you gasped as Tim apologizes.

“These are for you.” he squints, absolutely confused “For me?” you tilted your head “You don’t like it?” you asked.

He shook his head and took the bouquet “No no, I love it. It’s just that lovely things fit you more.” your cheeks turned pink at his statement “Well I just wanted to give you something special Tim.” you replied.

He smiles “If you say so, I’ll cherish these. Shall we go?”

[teddypines]

Fight

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sumary: Dick and Batmom!reader got into a fight which upset both of them in the end.

Dick x Batmom!reader, Fem!reader (Use of she/her pronounce)

Note: Dick might be a bit out of character in this. Art/picture is from Pintrest, credits go to whoever made it.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

“Get back here, Richard!” Y/N yelled as Dick stormed off towards his room. The two of them had been in a fight. Dick had gotten really hurt on a patrol, but refused to seek medical attention. This, of course, upsetting Y/N. Hating to see one of her birds hurt like this. Yes, Dick was the oldest. yes he was old enough to deal with things on his own, but not with injuries like this. "Richard! Don’t you dare walk away right now!” Y/N yelled after Dick as she walked up the stairs. 

Dick ignored Y/N as he continued to struggle with walking towards his room. “Richard Grayson!!” Y/N yelled out one last time before Dick turned around to face Y/N. “Stop it! i am fine! I don't need you to baby me!” Dick hissed at Y/N. He was tired and just wanted to go to bed, but no Y/N needed to be a worried mother hen. “Just let me sleep! I do not need to be patched up!”

“Dick have you looked into a mirror? You look like hell, you need medical attention. Those wounds will get infected.” Y/N answered while trying to reach out for Dick. “I don’t need that, now stop being so annoying and let me be”

“Dickie, come on, please you really need to clean those. I am your mother, let me help you” Y/N Said, her anger slowly fading more and more as she looked at the beaten up boy. Something snapped in Dick’s tired mind and he got furious. “You are not my mother! Stop acting like you are!” Dick didn’t realize what he had said, because he turned around too fast to see the upset look on Y/N’s face. “I… I’m sorry Dick, i’ll let you be.” She said before Dick slammed his bedroom door shut. 

Y/N turned around and slowly walked towards the master bedroom, tears rolling down her face as she crawled into bed. After a while Bruce joined her in bed and wrapped his arms around her. “What’s wrong, love? Did something happen with Dick?” Bruce asked, but he didn’t get an answer. not until the next morning. Bruce understood Y/N didn’t want to talk about it just yet and just held her even closer to him.

<----------------------------------------------------------------------->

The next morning Y/N did come down for breakfast, but she was rather quiet. Not like her usual self, not telling Damian to not mess with his brothers or telling Jason to put his book down. Everyone noticed but Dick. He was still upset, but he did feel bad. Once he shut his door last night he realized what he had said and that broke him more than the wounds he had. Breakfast was quiet but not awkward. 

After breakfast Y/N just got ready for work and waved Damian and Tim goodbye as they went to school. She kissed Bruce’s cheek when he went to work. Dick looked on as Y/N did her normal routine, only feeling left out since they didn’t give him his hug.

“Mom?” Dick called out to Y/N, but she didn’t answer, too busy getting her bag ready. Dick carefully tapped Y/N’s shoulder which made her stop packing her bag. “Yes?” She answered a bit on the dry side. “Mom… I…” Dick started but he couldn’t find the right words. “It’s okay, Dick, you don’t have to call me mom if you don’t want to.” Y/N said, upsetting them both in the process. She gave Dick a sad smile before leaving for work. 

Dick sighs and gets ready for uni. “What was that?!” Jason asked shocked as he looked at Dick from the living room. He had a day off so he was going to do nothing all day, maybe bother Alfred a bit. “Nothing.” Dick answered his brother. “That was most definitely not nothing!” Jason gasped. “Oh my god, you and mom had a fight!”

“We did not have a fight,” Dick said as he shoved one of his books into his bag. “I just said something I regret…” Jason narrowed his eyes and glared at Dick. “What did you say?”

Dick groaned a bit when he stretched his arm the wrong way when grabbing another book to put in his bag. “I might have said that she wasn't my mom so she should stop acting like it” This made Jason gasp. “Yeah, I know, I screwed up...”

<---------------------------------------------------------------------->

A few days go by in which both Dick and Y/N are upset over what happened, everyone saw it. Dick did get some medical attention for his wounds but the sad smile Y/N wore that week hurt more than anything else. Dick sighed and started to make his way around the manor in search of Y/N. He eventually found her in the Batcave looking over some files and homework Damian did. He carefully sat down next to her at the Batcomputer. “Mom?” He said, which made Y/N turn her head towards Dick. “I’m sorry mom. I never meant to yell at you or say you’re not my mother. Because I do love you as my mom even with my own mom being, well not here… I was just so tired and patrol didn’t go well, and uni wasn’t great that day and… and.. I just don’t know anymore. But I don’t want you to be upset… That hurts…” Dick said through his tears.

Dick was surprised when he felt two arms around him. Y/N held Dick close to her. “I forgive you, sweetie, but please don’t ever say it again. It really hurts, when all I wanted to do was make sure you were taken care of. Maybe I shouldn't have yelled, though.” Y/N said as she slowly leaned back and started to whip Dick’s tears away with her thumb. She carefully leaned over and kissed Dick’s forehead. “I love you, Bluebird.”

“I love you too, ma”