#grayson singing shake it off is so funny | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dork-empress · 3 years ago

Text

Singing in the Dead of Night Pt 3

Lucy and Damian visit Metropolis.

Past chapters are under my tag 'lucy quinzel' and the whole fic is on my AO3 (url in my description). Please reblog and leave comments.

Flock of Robins

Timtiminey:Guys. Guys. Guess what???

Jason: I thought I deleted this chat.

Timtiminey: Ha funny you think I’d allow you to do that

Timtiminey: And you didn’t guess.

Dickbutt: Tim I’m on a mission.

Dickbutt:.....

Dickbutt: TIM CHANGE MY NAME

Timtiminey: You’re still not guessing.

Dick Grayson’s name was changed to DickiestButtiest

Stephaluffagus: Whatever Is It, Tim?

Jason: Why is Stephanie even on here?

Stephaluffagus: I was a Robin!

Timtiminey: And she asks the questions. Well, you SEE

Timtiminey: DAMIAN GOT A GIRLFRIEND

Stephaluffagus: WHAAAA?!:?HSLHFADSKLJFKL?????

Dick Grayson’s name was changed to DatAssTho

DatAssTho: Awwwww, that’s so cute!!!

DatAssTho: Our little hellion is growing up

DatAssTho: It’s like it was just yesterday he was threatening to stab us all

Jason: That was last week at dinner.

Jason: Who the hell said yes to go out with him?

Timtiminey: That’s the best part! The old man set them up.

Stephaluffagus: ALKSDAN LFKSNDAFLKNDASKLF

DatAssTho: Well thats just not fair. He never set up me on a date.

Jason: He put you on the Titans.

DatAssTho: Watch it, Todd

DatAssTho: Also, you type like an old man

Jason: With proper punctuation?

Stephaluffagus: Guys, we’re straying from the topic: Who is it??

Timtiminey: Harley’s niece, she’s got some like, clown ballerina thing going

Jason: QUINN?!?!?!

Jason: LIKE JOKER’S GIRLFRIEND????

DatAssTho: Dude, they broke up ages ago

Stephaluffagus: Yeah, she’s basically more hero than you are

Jason: You really want to go down THAT route Brown?

Timtiminey: OOOOHKAYYY

Timtiminey: Rest assured, the old man vetted the girl. She’s…..unique? I’ve only seen her file, or part of it anyway

DatAssTho: Bruce has secret files doesn’t he

Timtiminey: I think I made it through the first encryption, but I’m working on the next between other cases.

Timtiminey: After all, we have to make sure she’s alright for our little Dami-kins

Stephaluffagus: Isn’t he on this chat?

Timtiminey: He’s had this muted for ages

Jason: YOU CAN DO THAT?!

Timtiminey: I mean, YOU can’t. I will turn it off for you

Jason: …….

Jason: Well you know it’d be a shame if I

Jason: @DamianWayne

Timtiminey: WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!

Damian: You’re dead Drake

DatAssTho: RIP

Stephaluffagus: He will be remembered

Jason: Prick.

“Get on already,” Damian said, exuding as much disinterested and grumpy energy as his body could manage.

Lucy skipped over to him, and looked at the seating arrangement on the Robin Cycle. “Hmm”, she said, “I don’t know if I’ll fit.” She climbed up to the back of the cycle only for her tutu to spring her backwards.

“What the hell is in that thing?” Damian asked, scowling. whatever had hit him was way more solid than fabric.

“Oh all sorts of things!” she said, “It’s my utilitutu!”

Damian really should have been used to this by now. “Your what.”

“Utility Tutu. I’ve got my balloon animals, my gas bouquet, my tamborine…”

“Well get rid of it or something,” Damian said, and was somehow surprised she did as was asked. Left in just a leotard, she hooked the tutu around her arm and jumped up behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist.

Luckily, he was wearing his helmet, so no one could see him blush.

He revved up the motorcycle to try and drown out his thoughts. They’d been particularly loud ever since Tim said what he said...and, maybe since Lucy said what she said.

Were they dating? Is that what was happening? Lucy had called it a date, but Lucy was weird. It wasn’t like Damian understood how these things were supposed to work. This was super not in the training regime for the League of Assassins.

Did he...want it to be a date? He was even less sure. Lucy was...odd, but she had grown on him. She was the exact opposite of him, cheery where he was brooding, she was peaceful, he was violent. She was...kind and funny and playful. He was super not. they were both smart, but that seemed to be where the similarities ended.

And yet, it kinda worked. She was pretty, in a girly way, or at least thats what he could tell from under her makeup. He’d never been...really interested in girls or anyone. He didn’t know what it was supposed to feel like. If this was how it was supposed to feel like.

Well, he wasn’t going to be forced to be in a relationship with anyone. If she tried anything, he would tell her no, in no uncertain terms. Then he could get Tim and the others to shut up.

Once the decision was made, of course, he was left to ruminate for the remainder of the ride. He might have welcomed some of Lucy’s chatter, just to get his mind off things. Damn Bruce, not letting him use the batmobile…

Finally, a blur appeared beside him. “Need a lift?” Jon asked, rushing along beside him. Damian couldn’t help a smirk as he followed him through the city.

They came to a stop in an alleyway, though it didn’t hide much. “Whoa,” Jon said, eyebrows raised, “Hello, who’s this?”

Lucy stood on the top of the motorcycle, slipping her tutu back on and giving a deep curtsy, “Greetings! I am Commedia, The Dancing Delight, Columbina of Gotham and--”

“She’s Harley Quinn’s niece,” Damian said, cutting her off, “Lucy, Superboy, Superboy, Lucy.”

Lucy jumped down, eyebrow raised, “Now, come on. Surely you boys know how hard it is being defined by those who came before you.”

“Yeah, Robin,” Superboy said, holding out his hand for her to shake, “Honestly, no manners. Nice to meet you, Comme...Colum..um.”

“Lucy’s fine,” she said, “Aunt Harley said it’d be good for me to go and see some of Metropolis, maybe get some shopping done.”

Jon smiled, “Well, there’s plenty to do around here, and you picked the perfect tour guide! Come on, Mom and Dad are working today. I’ll show you around.”

Damian followed the pair of them around at a pace where you could just barely tell he was part of the same group. He was in his black outfit again, with sunglasses so that Lucy couldn’t tell who he was, and all of Metropolis wouldn’t know Robin wasn’t in Gotham.

Jon took them on the full tourist tour, going to see the many wonders of Metropolis. Though, a few stops Damian was pretty sure weren’t on the main route, like when they went to the top of the Daily Planet building. Other than that, though, it was a lot of pretty buildings, old buildings, the Superman memorial/dedication (they just left it up when Superman came back) and other sites that were considered important.

Damian sulked, having seen all these before and not finding them any more impressive than the first time or any time after that. What did surprise him was that Lucy didn’t seem any more impressed than him. He would have thought she’d go Gaga over the tourist trappings, considering she react to abandoned (allegedly) mines like a family at Disney World.

But she looked at each one, nodded in appreciation, and went onto the next thing.

Jon was kinda weirded out by it too, Damian could tell, not that Jon was ever subtle. He kept looking to Damian as if to try and explain her behavior, not that he was ever going to be doing that.

“Ok,” Jon said, as they sat outside the capitol, “Is there anything you WANT to see?”

Lucy shrugged, “To be honest, buildings don’t really interest me that much. But I’m glad to have gone with you, of course.”

“For fuck’s sake,” Damian said, “What’s the point of going around like this if you don’t even like it? We went around all damn day for YOU!”

Lucy tilted her head, “We went so that Superboy could show us things and we could get to know him.” She smiled at him, “You clearly admire Superman a lot, and you’re clearly like him. I’m glad you get along with your dad so well.”

Jon smiled, confused, but appreciative, “Thanks?” Damian grumbled. “But, I’d like to get to know YOU better as well. So if there’s something you like, the city has everything.”

Lucy hummed, “I honestly mostly just like to people watch in my free time.”

Jon beamed, “Oh man, I have the perfect place then.”

With a hop, skip, and a kryptonian-powered jump, the three of them were in the rafters of the Metropolis Subway station, looking down at everything and everyone as they went by. Damian was just glad they were inside, and being underground had him feeling a bit more at home.

Lucy practically sparkled, leaning way too far over to look at everyone. “What are they saying? Can you hear them?”

“Uh, which ones?” Jon said. She pointed aggressively. “Well, that one’s a family on vacation, the dad there is going over the itinerary, he’s got it printed out. The daughter there is trying to get him to skip the museums so they can get to the aquarium faster.”

“Ohh, what’s at the aquarium?” Lucy asked, kicking her feet like a child.

“Some fish, jelly fish are cool...Oh, they got a new shark there, I think.”

Damian groaned again, “Ugh, who CARES? If you wanted to go to the aquarium, then lets go to the aquarium! Instead of just watching someone TALK about it! These are all just normal people!”

“Robin, dude,” Jon said, “If it’s what she wants, why not? We are here for HER after all.”

That in of itself would have been enough to shame Damian, but Lucy was staring at him. She stared unblinking, and unsmiling. It was actually creepy. Like she was staring through him.

“Nobody’s normal.” She said, very seriously, her voice no longer taking on the cheery affectation. “Not a single one that I’ve ever met. Many of them TRY to be normal, but it is an illusion. A moving target, an ideal that doesn’t exist and people are shamed for not attempting to achieve.”

Damian could feel himself resist leaning away from her. “Uh, Lucy?” Jon said, “Something you want to talk about?”

Lucy blinked like she was remembering she was supposed to. “I suppose it is personal to me,” she said, “My…mother was always a little scared of Aunt Harley. First scared of her success, then scared of her villainous career. She always wanted to be normal. She wanted…me to be normal. She was scared of what I’d be. Who I’d be like.” She smiled, an echo of her previous smile, “It’s not quite the same as being a disciple for a great hero like Superman or Batman.”

Jon was suddenly looking very awkward. “Well,” He said, “I mean, having Harley Quinn as your aunt isn’t that bad. And you’re good anyway! So, no need to worry.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Lucy said, “It doesn’t matter if I was good or bad. It just matters that I was strange.” She tilts her head, looking down at the mass of people rushing back and forth. “Ever since I was little, people didn’t feel…real. They’re just. Stories. I couldn’t relate to my peers, as my teachers would say. I don’t know how to explain it. The only time I tried, my mom was so scared she sent me to a camp. One of those meant for bad kids to help them behave.” She tilted her head, “But they weren’t bad. They all had different stories. I realized there were no normal people. Just people with stories.”

Damian couldn’t have spoken if it was to yell for help. He stared at Lucy, trying to decide if he should be concerned or sympathetic.

Jon cleared his throat. “Well, I think you’re nice. And that’s what’s important. No problem with learning more about people and helping them.”

Lucy smiled, “Thank you.”

Jon’s head whipped to the side. “Ah, shoot, Dad’s calling me. I’ll be right back.” Lucy’s cheery attitude was back and she nodded, as Jon took off.

Lucy looked over at Damian for a moment. Damian felt he should say something. Apologize, maybe? He wasn’t sure what would be appropriate, and if it was appropriate, would Lucy want it. She worked on a whole other level, that was clear.

Lucy went back to watching people below her.

“My mom,” Damian started, not sure where he was going to end his sentence. Rule one of being in his family was to not reveal details about himself. But it was Lucy and she…she was his friend. “She was a…she’s a villain. I was supposed to be too. Maybe would have been if I didn’t go to live with Batman.”

Lucy nodded, “That sounds like a very interesting story,” Lucy said, “Thank you for telling me.” She tilted her head towards him. “Hey Robin, there’s this comedy place here in Metropolis I looked up. I was hoping maybe we could go tonight? I’m kind of a comedy nerd, and it’s always good to support people at an open mic. Maybe you’d even laugh once.”

Damian braced himself. This was a date. She was asking him on a date. He had prepared himself for this. “I can’t,” Damian said, the words practiced, “I don’t think of you that way. We can hang out and…be friends, but no.” There. No question about it.

Lucy looked at him, and tilted her head, thinking. “Ok,” She said, simply. Didn’t seem too heartbroken. It was a relief. “Hey Superboy,” She said, voice raise just slightly on the sounds of trains, “Do you want to go on a date to a comedy club tonight with me?”

There was a brief pause, then with a burst of wind, Jon jumped up back to the rafters. “Yeah, that sounds good,” and they shared smiles, “Robin, I can get her back to Gotham if you want to head home.”

Damian blinked, trying to process what exactly was happening. “I–,” technically, he wasn’t supposed to leave Lucy, for reasons Batman hadn’t been overly clear about. But if something was going to happen, she’d be plenty safe with Jon. Still, he wanted to argue this, even though he had nothing, and he knew he had nothing. “Sure, that sounds fine.”

Jon held out his hand to help him down, but he could easily get out by himself. And so, alone, he went home. And he didn’t understand the strange feeling in his gut.

Bruce stretched his neck coming down to the batcave, seeing Tim on the computer. “Commissioner Gordon has kindly invited Batman and Robin to the Wayne charity Christmas Party on my behalf,” he said, “I’ve got Dick coming down to wear the Batsuit for me. I’m going to work to have Damian as Robin, but would you and Steph take on patrols that night? At least some of us should actually be doing work.”

Tim didn’t answer. He stared blankly into the computer. Bruce sighed, most likely he didn’t hear him. “How long have you been down here? You’re going to ruin your–”

“Are you planning on telling Damian?” Tim asked.

Bruce paused and looked at what Tim was staring at. It was medical records of Delia Quinzel, specifically of her pregnancy.

Specifically the fake pregnancy records that Bruce had made. “What are you talking about?” Bruce asked.

“Please don’t insult me,” Tim said, face stoic, “You really think I can’t recognize your digital fingerprint all over these files?”

Bruce took a few deep breaths. “Have you told anyone?”

“Hell no,” Tim said, finally looking up, “And I cleaned up your mess. But I don’t know if anyone else has looked into this before now.” Tim glared at Bruce, “So I ask again, are you planning on telling Damian that you’ve put him in charge of protecting Joker’s biological daughter from her own father?”

Bruce came over and looked at the corrected records. They were, in fact, cleaner. Bruce’s were too normal. Tim added in complications that could have happened, just enough to make people think they’d already found what was wrong. “We don’t know what Joker knows.”

“Oh, and he just happened to escape Arkham and disappear at around the same time a teen starts hanging around his ex-girlfriend.” Tim said, dryly.

“If he does know,” Bruce said, “Then its our job to stop him. If he doesn’t, then we still stop him. But Lucy has a target on her back one way or another.”

“Which is why you put Damian in front of it?” Tim said.

“I trust Damien,” Bruce said, “To protect her. But I don’t want him to be biased against her because of her parents.”

“So, you’re putting him at risk, so that he can make friends?” Tim demanded, arms crossed.

Bruce took a deep sigh. “One day,” he said, “Lucy is going to have to confront where she’s come from. And the rest of us are too. I’m trying to give us all the best chance.” Bruce said, “Besides, Damian needs more friends other than Jon.”

Tim screwed up his face, then snorted. “Alright, old man,” he said, “I’ll go with your plan for now. But if something goes belly up, I reserve the right to at least one ‘I told you so.’”

“A fair compromise,” Bruce said, “What have you found about Joker’s movements?”

“He’s going quiet right now, which isn’t much like him,” Tim said, “But I think I’ve tied him to this fancy surgical robot that’s gone missing from Gotham Hospital.”

“Well, I’m sure there’s nothing mind-breakingly awful he can do with that,” Bruce said, sarcastically. “Let’s take it to the streets.”

Tim jumped up and followed him to the batmobile.

#lucy quinzel #damian wayne #bruce wayne #jon kent #DC comics fanfic #dc comics fanfiction

7 notes · View notes

hateswifi · 5 years ago

Text

I Only Have Eyes for You

A quick Daminette blind!Mari Au with a twist at the end. I hope you enjoy! Go check out my other stories after you finish reading.

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

"I'm so sorry," Marinette said, brushing herself off as she stood up.

"Watch where you are going next time!" a deep voice angrily exclaimed before she heard his footsteps rush off in front of her.

"Marinette! That was so rude why would you draw attention to yourself like that!" Alya exclaimed.

"Well I'm sorry that you all didn't want me to draw attention to my cane, none of you warned me!" Marinette said back. (Ok quick explanation, needed a reason why Marinette didn't have her cane out.)

"Whatever, pay more attention next time," Alya muttered.

"How would you like me to do that?" Marinette asked, leaning to one side.

"I had a friend who overcame her blindness, they did a transplant on her eyes," Lila spoke up, 'attempting' to break the tension.

"Ya because that sounds realistic," Marinette mummers to herself.

"Because it's not realistic," Chloe said, rejoining the group, she had gone to grab Marinette's cane from the bus.

"You've just never heard of it, the doctors probably never told your parents so you wouldn't get your hopes up. I mean you're not too rich," Lila pointed out.

"Girls calm down, it's time to begin our tour," Ms. Bustier said, walking back from the front desk.

"Hello, Francis DuPont, welcome to Wayne Enterprises. I'm your tour guide, Richard," The tour guide greets. *Insert Lila lying and normal field trip shenanigans here (if requested will write later) * "I hope to see you all at the celebratory gala at the end of the week, please enjoy your stay here in Gotham."

She was tired of her class, she convinced Chloe to take her to the nearest park so she could hear the sounds to hopefully inspire her in her next song. She has been practicing with the help of Uncle Jagged with writing, well someone writing down, songs and singing them. Uncle Jagged thinks she has potential.

Chloe had left Marinette for a couple of minutes to grab ice-cream, they both deserve it after putting up with Lila and her sheep. She hears footsteps approaching her that sounding similar to Chloe's when she wears shoes, not high heels like today, (she's not very used to Chloe's footstep when there not in heels, sue her).

"Hey, Chloe what ice-cream did you end up getting?" She asked, facing the footsteps.

"Wait you're blind! Why didn't you have your cane earlier?" The voice, definitely not Chloe's, asked approaching her.

"Are you the guy from earlier, the one I ran into?" Marinette asks, avoiding his question.

"Ahh... Yes. Sorry about the 'watch where you're going' that was incredibly insensitive, even for me," he responded.

"Don't worry about," Marinette says, nonchalantly. "I'm Marinette."

"Hi, Marinette, my name is Damian," he responds. "So why are you alone in the park in the most crime-ridden city in America."

"Why? You trying to kidnap me?" Marinette answers with a giggle. "I'm waiting for my friend to get back."

"What have I told you about not talking to strangers, especially ones that look dark and angsty," Chloe says, walking up with two ice-creams in her hands.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Chloe. I forgot to ask, 'hey, Person, I've never met before, are you dark and angsty? If so by my dear friend Chloe's rules, I'm not allowed to speak with you' because I can totally trust someone's answer," Marinette says sarcastically.

"I'm the sarcastic one! You're supposed to be the sweet angel, who is sometimes terrifying," Chloe wines, placing Mari's cone in her hand.

"Whatever you say, Bee. Damian this is Chloe, Chloe this is Damian. Ya know the person I supposedly 'made a scene over'." Marinette said.

"Nice to meet you, Chloe, I should be off, I don't want to disturb you both anymore and my father will call me soon for a meeting," Damian says, standing. He turns to Marinette and says. "I hope to meet you again." Before he exited the park.

"How... you can't even see how hot he is," Chloe complains, slouching beside Marinette.

"Chloe, ya know looks don't matter to me because it's what's on the inside that counts," Marinette says a smile on her face, already knowing how Chloe would respond.

"Plus you're blind so you don't have to worry about how they look," Chloe snickers before checking her watch. "If you want time to walk around the store a bit before dinner, we should get ready to go."

"Cool, let's go then, I promised Mama something I need your eyes to help me," Marinette said, standing up. She tucked her cane away and let Chloe lead her to the shopping district.

The finished shopping, Marinette got her Mama some homemade tea from one of the small business, and a fun new apron. (I'm not funny, so I'm not going to attempt to come up with something clever.) They got back to the hotel with enough time to get ready for dinner. Marinette put on an outfit, with the help of Chloe, high waisted black ripped jeans, a white lace tank crop top, and a pink mid-thigh cardigan, paired together with a silver moon necklace. (idk, it be 1:30). The bus surprisingly didn't leave without her, which she was happy about. The dinner was phenomenal and she has hopes for a good rest of her night, that was until she went to the bathroom and found out her group left without her. She sighs, pulls out her flip phone (I'm like 98.9% sure blind people can't use smartphones.) and dials Chloe's number.

"I tried to get Bustier to wait for you, but little miss liar lied and said you were already on the bus," Chloe explained.

"It's fine... I need a walk anyways, see you later," Marinette said, hanging and putting her phone on silent and exits the restaurant. Not too long after she hears light footsteps touch the ground.

"Miss do you need help getting back to where you are staying? You know this is the most crime-ridden city in the world," A somewhat familiar voice comes from behind her.

"Seriously Damian we're back to Miss?" Marinette laughs.

"Robin, I told you to stay on the roof," another voice comes from landing beside them.

"Damian, you're friends with Richard? He was my tour guide earlier," Marinette adds.

"Umm yes, I'm Damian's brother," Dick said. "You can call me Dick though."

"Hi, Dick, my name is Marinette," She says, holding out her hand in his voice's direction, which he grabs and shakes. She scrunches her nose at the feeling of leather. "Why are you wearing gloves? It's not that cold out."

"Oh I'm a germaphobe," Dick answered quickly.

"Oh I'm sorry, I should be getting back to the hotel," Marinette said, turning her back ti were their voices where.

"Let me walk you ok? Where's your cane?" Damian asks.

"Well Chloe was here with me earlier, so I had put it away in her purse. The class left me behind though, so I was just going to walk home,"

"Wait you're blind? You didn't have a cane earlier as well," Dick asks.

"Oh, that is literally nothing. People think I use it to seek attention," Marinette said. "Damian, can you help me find my hotel?"

"Yea, sure, umm... what hotel are you staying at?" Damian asks. "You can hold on to my arm if it would help you."

"Ok, thank you, I'm staying at Wayne Hotel," Marinette said, grabbing the crook of his elbow.

"See you later, you guys. Call me when you're down, I'll let Brucie know what's happening," Dick said his voice trailing off as they walk off in opposite directions. They walk in silence and when they get to the hotel Marinette squeezes his hand.

"Thanks for walking me, Damian," Marinette said, smiling while looking in where she thinks his face is.

"Bye Marinette, don't be left alone again, people aren't always as nice as me," He snickers. "Good night."

"Night, Dami," Marinette says. as the door opens.

"Marinette! I'm so happy you're ok!" Chloe said, hugging Marinette. She then smacked her arm. "Don't hang up on me again!"

"I'm fine Chloe," Marinette said.

"Thank you so much, Robin! I didn't know how she was going to get back without her cane," Chloe exclaimed. "What have I told you about talking to strangers, even heroes."

"Heroes?" Marinette mutters to herself. "I'm sorry Chloe. I didn't realize that I wouldn't be safe with one of Gotham's heroes."

"I'm messing, come on," Chloe says, grabbing Marinette's arm. "Night Robin."

"Ya night Robin," Marinette says confused. When Marinette gets to her and Chloe's room, she sits on the balcony with hopes of Da-- Robin dropping by. Not too long after she stood outside she heard someone land being her. "Chloe, I'm going to be writing, you can go to bed, I'll be in a bit later." She heard Chloe confirm. "So you're Damian and Robin."

"And you figured it with only meeting me three times, you figured out Grayson with only two times. You know you can't tell anyone," Robin said.

"Well I don't see the difference between you guys, I can only hear the similarities in your voices," Marinette explained. "I wouldn't tell anyone, I understand to have secrets."

"What do you mean?" Robin asks.

"Well for the past couple of years, there had been an akuma problem in Paris," Marinette said.

"What's an akuma and how were they a problem?"

"A villain named Hawkmoth terrorized the city by using their negative emotions against, a hero team named Ladybug and Chat Noir rose to meet the terrorist," Marinette sighed.

"How come no one had mentioned this?" Robin asks, leaning on the railing beside her.

"Tourists weren't allowed to enter Paris as much and no international news was allowed to do reports. The mayor wanted to keep the whole thing under wraps and we didn't include the Justice League because we realized that people with extra training and sometimes powers would be too hard to take down," Marinette explained.

"What do you mean 'we'?" Robin asks, studying Marinette's face the moonlight highlighting her hair making it more blue than normal along with accenting her cheekbones.

"My partner, Chat Noir, and I, well just me now," Marinette said, putting her head in hands.

"You were Ladybug?" Robin asks in disbelief. "Not to sound rude, but how did you manage to do that with your condition."

"While being Ladybug, the magic let me see. They were the best times of my life besides the fact of Hawkmoth. But because of being Ladybug, I was able to see my parents' faces and see the beautiful world. All good things come to an end though, Master Fu took my earrings and Chat Noir's ring and ran away," Marinette accounted a tear slipping down her cheek. "Now I know what I'm missing out on, and there is almost nothing I wouldn't give to see again."

"Why are you telling me this?" Robin asks, looking out over the city.

"Because no one will believe you and I needed someone to talk to who would understand."

"What about Chat Noir?"

"He's gone, his father killed him and there was nothing I could do," Marinette responding full-on tears streaming down her face now.

"Alfred told me the best way to comfort someone, who is distressed, is to hug them. Do you need a hug?" Robin said, standing up straight.

"Please, he promised he would have my back, but he left me here to deal with the aftermath of Hawkmoth and my class," Marinette said into his shoulder

"Does it have anything to do with your class leaving you behind?" Robin asks, rubbing small circles into her back.

"One girl turned them all against me Adrien tried to help me but her lies were just too convincing. They say I bully her and I lie about everything. They took my cane earlier because they didn't want me to draw attention to myself, that's why I ran into you earlier."

"I was rude earlier which was bad in my part especially since you fell," he said quietly.

"No it was my fault for running into you, I'm just happy we're both ok," Marinette smiled, breaking the hug. She leans against the railing again with Robin following not too long after.

"You said something about writing earlier, what was that about?" Robin asks.

"I write and sing songs," Marinette says.

"Any songs I would know?"

"I don't know, but I sing and write with my uncle Jagged a lot."

"Would you sing?" he whispers almost inaudibly.

"I haven't sung in front of many people, and Chloe is right you're still a stranger," Marinette says with a giggle.

"I bet you have a lovely voice," Robin says. "But you don't have to, I won't force you to do anything that would make you uncomfortable."

"I will but give me a moment, I want you to be brutally honest because no matter how I love my family and friends they won't tell me if I'm bad," Marinette whispers. "I'm only going to sing the chorus I haven't figured out the rest." (not my song In My Head by the Bedroom. Highly recommend, underrated song.)

It consumes my mind

It consumes my soul

It wants my life it wants complete control

Somebody help me before it's bad

Somebody help me before I end up dead

I feel alone, all of the time

It's still quite, lurking inside

"I was right, the voice of an Angel," he says, breathlessly.

"Robin, time to go, have a good night Miss," Dick says, dropping onto the balcony.

"Night Damian, Dick," Marinette says, walking towards the door.

Now Dick and Damian stood on the rood of the hotel. "So you want to explain how she knows who both of our identities?" Dick asked his arms crossed across his chest.

"She recognizes our voices after her friend pointed out that I was Robin she put two and two together," Damian says uninterested.

"Besides knowing your name and that you are Robin, does she know that you are Damian Wayne," Dick asks.

"No, I don't think she does," Damian answer. "Now that we're done gossiping, can we go back to the manor?"

"You gonna tell Brucie," Dick asks, standing.

"I mean it is kinda important," Damian shrugs before running in the direction of the manor.

At the end of the week at the gala, Marinette wore a floor-length off the shoulder red dress the skirt of the dress looks like a flower. She loved the feel of the smooth fabric, Chloe said that the color complimented her skin. She was sitting at a table with Chloe when she heard the almost familiar footstep of Damian.

"Nice try Damian, I can tell you are there," Marinette smiled.

"Well, I wasn't trying to sneak up on you, because if I was trying you wouldn't have heard me," Damian says quietly."I was coming to see if you wanted to dance."

"That would be lovely, I'm not too good at dancing," Marinette says.

"I'll lead, I'll make sure that you are comfortable," Damian reassures.

"I trust you," Marinette says, letting herself be lead out to the middle of the floor. "So tell me more about you, all I know is that you have a night job. How old are you because you sound on the younger side to me."

"I'm about to turn twenty in the upcoming month," Damian says.

"I just turned eighteen. What do you want to do in the future?"

"I help run my father's company, I know you want to be a singer," Damian asks, spinning her.

"That's true. What company does your father run?"

"He owns and runs Wayne Enterprises."

"That means you're a Wayne? Is it your choice that you want to work at WE or is it being forced onto you?"

"It's my choice."

"Does it bring you happiness?"

"Yes," Damian says pressing his forehead to hers as the song ends.

"Then that's all that matters then," Marinette says,

"Oh my god! Dick wasn't lying!" A voice screams with fast-approaching footsteps following. Marinette turns to the voice's direction. "How'd you get someone so adorable?"

"Jason! I told you to-- he wasn't lying!?" another voice says, coming from the same direction.

"Marinette, meet my other two of my adopted brothers," Damian said. "The first one is Jason and the second one is Tim."

"We're numbers now? What happened to us being people?" Jason whines.

"You're bothering me," Damian said.

"Damian, be nice to your sibling, I bet they're lovely to have around," Marinette says, playfully smacking his arm.

"Well, then I would win that bet," Damian snickers.

"Well it's nice to meet someone that can stand being around Demon Spawn," Jason says.

"Are you guys dating? Dick said you guys were and that Damian calls you Angel," Tim asks.

"We're not dating," Damian says.

"He has not called me Angel, but he compared my singing voice to one," Marinette responds.

"I forgot to tell you that there was no way the Jagged was complimenting you to be nice. You have a heavenly voice," Damian says, kissing her hand.

"Jagged... like Jagged Stone, Jagged?" Tim asked, squeezing in between her and Damian.

"There are a lot of people with Jagged in the world, what makes you think I'm talking about Jagged Stone?" Marinette asks, speaking towards the spot where Tim had been standing.

"Well, is it him?"

"Yes, it is him, but--" Marinette said now looking on Tim's direction.

Tim screams. "Seriously! You're his prodigy?"

"More like his niece but prodigy works," Marinette explains.

"That's awesome, can I have an autograph?"

"I don't know when I'll see Uncle Jagged again, but--" Marinette starts.

"No from you, your voice is calming and helps me focus on my work," Tim says.

"Umm, sure!"

"After she signs it, will you leave us alone?"

"Yes, we'll leave you two love birds alone," Jason said, grabbing Tim's arm.

"They seem nice," Marinette said.

"They can be but they are a bit overbearing," Damian said, pulling her into another dance.

"It's nice to have people support you in their own unique ways," Marinette said. They dance in silence at one point Marinette almost falls Damian pull her close.

"You're adorable when you blush," Damian says, lifting her chin so he could get a good view of her face.

"That's not fair, I can't see if you're blushing," Marinette pouts. "Can I feel face?"

"Why?"

"You don't have to, but feeling is like seeing for me along with other blind people," Marinette said, quickly.

"Umm... do you want to go out to the garden so it's quieter?"

"Ummm ok," Marinette said, letting Damian take her to the garden. Damian leads her to the nearest bench. Marinette puts her hands in his. "I don't want to jab your face can you?" Before she finishes, he takes her hands and places them on his face. "Don't worry I recently washed my hands." Damian chuckles. She runs her fingers over his jaw and cheekbone. "What color are your eyes?"

"Jade green, I also have black hair, and tan skin," Damian says.

"You're handsome... umm I mean you have strong facial features...?" Marinettes stutters.

"You're beautiful as well. Thank you, Angel," Damian says, kissing her forehead. “Will you come to dinner at the Manor tomorrow night?”

“That would be lovely, but I can’t be out too late, we are leaving the day after tomorrow,” Marinette said.

The next day leading up to dinner with the Waynes was uneventful besides some of Lila’s normal lies about Marinette and fabulous stories about her old famous friends that she ran into without anyone else around. She couldn’t help but smile at the thought of seeing Damian again. Sure she had been less willing to let herself be open ever since Lila and the loss of Adrien, who had stood with her.

She got dressed in a white tank crop top with a pink floral pattern, a high waisted skater skirt, and paired with white converse. Chloe helped her, obviously, she said that Marinette looked appropriately dressed.

“Thanks, Chloe, I’m going to head downstairs. Damian said he would be here at 5:30,” Marinette said, hugging her.

“Well it’s 5:25 you should hurry,” Chloe said pushing her out the door.

“Oh crap! Bye Chloe!” Marinette said, rushing down the hall to the elevator. As she ran out of the elevator she heard the lobby doors open.

“Marinette, did you just run down here? Where’s your cane?” Damian asks, approaching the girl.

“Hey aren’t you the boy that danced with Marinette yesterday?” Lila’s voice came from what Marinette remembers to be the sitting area.

“If I am, why does it matter to you?” Damian growls.

“Because she’s a bully,” Alya’s voice came from near where she heard Lila.

“I don’t what you’re talking about, she’s sweet, kind, even after I was rude to her and incredibly strong,” Damian said, taking Marinette’s hand.

“She forgets her cane on purpose for attention,” Lila states.

“No, from what I was told, you complained that her cane was bringing her too much attention. The cane is what helps her see,” Damian says. “Come on, Angel, Alfred is waiting.”

“Thanks, Dami,” Marinette says. As they get into the back of the car Marinette says. “You know you didn’t have to do that, they stopped affecting me months ago.”

“Just because I didn’t have to doesn’t mean I didn’t want to,” Damian says, kissing her hand.

“Thank you Dami,” Marinette said, a pink blush spreading across her cheeks.

“You’re adorable,” Damian said.

“Now Master Damian, I know I raised you better than that,” Alfred said from the front.

“Pennyworth, this is Marinette, Marinette this is Alfred our butler and unofficial official grandfather,” Damian said.

“It’s nice to meet you Monsieur!” Marinette says enthusiastically.

“Miss Marinette, if I may be so bold, where is your cane?” Alfred asks.

“Ummm I didn’t realize you knew, but I ran out of the hotel room without it,” Marinette said.

“Hey, Mari I don’t think I ever got your number. May I have it so we can stay in touch once you leave?” Damian asks, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Oh yeah!” Marinette says, taking out her phone. “Sorry I can text because they haven’t exactly made a smartphone for blind people yet.”

“We can skype,” Damian offers, putting his number in her phone. Before she recites her to him and he names her contact Angel.

“Of course!” Marinette says as they pull up to the Manor.

“There are seven steps coming up, I’ll let you know when there are left by squeezing your hand,” Damian says quietly, respecting her wishes to not use her cane. As they get close to the top, as Damian promised, he squeezed her hand. Alfred opened the door to reveal the rest of the Wayne family.

“This is Marinette,” Damian says. “Marinette this is my family”

“My father, Dick, Tim, Jason, and you already met Alfred,” Damian said, pausing for each of them to say hi in between each introduction.

“Well dinner is ready if you would like to follow me to the dining room,” Alfred said.

“Alfred made Shepherd's Pie,” Damian said, pulling Marinette’s seat out for her.

“That’s lovely, thank you for having me by the way Mr. Wayne,” Marinette said, picking up her fork.

“It’s my pleasure, please call me Bruce,” he said.

Dinner went on fine until Jason realized something, Marinette never looked directly at anyone she always looked slightly to the side or a bit above whoever was speaking.

“Marinette, are you blind?” Jason asks.

“Jason! That’s very rude,” Dick says.

“No it’s a valid question, I am in fact blind,” Marinette said.

“You’re very independent,” Bruce notes.

“Well I don't like being seen just for my disability or for being weak because of my blindness,” Marinette explains.

“Angel, no one would think that,” Damian said. “You’re incredible.”

“Thanks, Dami.”

“So Marinette you know our identities, do you plan to keep them?” Tim says.

“Of course,” Marinette answered.

“She used to be a hero,” Damian said. “Ladybug, the hero of Paris.”

“I saw a video of a battle, how were you able to defeat the akuma?” Dick asks.

“Well, I used to have a kwami, her name is Tikki, she gave me sight while I was transformed,” Marinette explained. “But sadly, Master Fu took back my earrings along with Chat’s ring and disappeared.”

“How do we know you're telling the truth?” Jason asked, receiving a smack from Damian. “Hey! It’s a valid question!”

“I’ve seen the footage, they look the same,” Dick says.

“From what I’ve heard, I have scars up and down my back from the countless akuma attacks,” Marinette explained. “And because I was supposed to become the next guardian and I was the holder of the ladybug miraculi, I have with the Miraculi mark.” She then bent her leg to show the mark on her ankle.

“Ms. Marinette speaks the truth, I have the mark of the peacock miraculi,” Alfred said.

“Adri-- Chat Noir had the same mark.”

“Before he went missing you mean,” Dick cuts in.

“Not missing, Gabriel, his father, and Hawkmoth, killed him before he realized it was his son,” Marinette explained.

The conversation moved into a brighter topic after that. When it was time to leave Damian decided to drive her back to her hotel. He walked her to the lobby.

“Be my girlfriend?” Damian asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I would love to!” Marinette said, hugging him. She went up on tip-toes and kissed his cheek. “Bye Damian, I’ll count the minutes till I see you again.”

“I’ll see you off to the airport tomorrow,” Damian said, kissing the crown of her head.

(Sorry for the skips, I just wanna get to the part that the whole story has been building to.) Their relationship didn’t falter with distance after Marinette graduated, she moved to the states to attend Gotham Academy. Uncle Jagged promised her parent to check up on her him being in America for recording and shows. Not too long after they graduated college Marinette became a hit as Nettie. Damian proposed to her on the date of her debut. They got married on their fifth anniversary of dating. A year later they had their first son Thomas Adrien Wayne-Dupain.

On Thomas’ second birthday, Damian prepared a surprise. “Not too much longer Angel, just a couple more steps.”

“Today on the show we have Marinette Dupain-Cheng-Wayne or as most of you know her as Nettie,” the hostess says. “What most of you all don’t know is that she is blind. Nettie, will you give a wave to the crowd?”

She waves and whispers to Damian. “I might murder you, why are we here?”

Damian just chuckles, kisses her head, and says “Don't worry it’s about to get better.”

“So not too long ago, I reached out to Damian Wayne, her husband, to bring her onto the show so we can we have her reaction for a first time using E-Sight.” At that Marinette hugs Damian, and whispers graciously.

“So today is our son’s second birthday and I know it’s not a gift him, but it will be the first time she sees us for the first time,” Damian says.

“So we have an E-Sight technician here today to help her with the glasses, which she’ll be able to keep,” the hostess says.

“So I’m going to slide this on your head,” the technician says, placing it over her eyes. “Can you give a look around for me? Can you see?”

“Yes! Yes! I can see,” Marinette exclaims, turning to look at the two most important people in her life. “You guys! You’re both as beautiful as I imagine.” Marinette cries, tears streaming down her face.

“Come on, Angel, don’t cry,” Damian says, wiping her tears away before pulling her into a hug.

“Thomas, honey, you’re so cute…. I can’t believe it! I can see you both!” Marinette says, taking Thomas. “Hi honey, Mama can see you!”

“Nettie, we brought the rest of your family here so you can see them as well,” the hostess says, welcoming her family to the stage.

“Guys! Mama! Papa! You guys!” Marinette says, letting herself be enveloped in a hug.

“We’re so happy for you, Pixie-Pop!”

She couldn’t be happier, she was happy before but now she can see the beauty of the world once again. She loved her family more than words can explain and now she didn’t have to just picture them, she can see them for real.

#marinette x batfam #maribat #batfam #ml salt fic #damian x marinette #lila salt #marinette x damian #alya salt #damian wayne #marinette dupain cheng #marinette deserves better #wifiwrites

733 notes · View notes

ri-ahhh · 4 years ago

Text

van life

I wasn’t gonna post this because it’s just like an overload of unrealistic softness but now that we know that they’re selling the van I think now is the best time if I’m gonna do it lol.

Also I’m sorry I can’t make this shorter on your dash by putting a ‘keep reading’ break. Tumblr is shitty and permanently fucked on my desktop where it just won’t load the page once I’m logged in so I have to do everything through mobile🙄

warnings: fluff, smut, kinda unedited

***

MJ sighs as warm morning sunlight kisses her skin through the passenger window of the tiny house van. She and Grayson had decided to have a beach day to themselves — the first one of summer — and she could’t be more excited. Nothing makes MJ Macias more content and at peace with her life than laying under the Pacific sun until her nose freckles and her skin takes on that healthy golden hue. Wrinkles are a risk she’s willing to take as long as she has a nice, long podcast, something to munch on, and, of course, a good view of her boyfriend in the surf.

That view of him rivals the one of the ocean in her opinion, which is just past his window as they cruise down the PCH on their way to Malibu. MJ wiggles her white-painted toes on the dashboard and smiles as she watches him sing along quietly (and off-key) to the Tame Impala song filling the cabin of the van. She loves his profile so much: the perfect slope of his nose; his full lips; the chunk of hair that swoops across his forehead.

She lifts their clasped hands from where they rest on her thigh with their fingers threaded together, and kisses the back of his wide palm.

“You’re so handsome, Bear,” MJ murmurs against his skin.

Grayson stops singing long enough to look over at her and smile brightly, his eyes hidden behind his black Louis Vuitton sunglasses. He pulls their hands towards himself so he can copy her kiss, only to her her own soft skin.

“My pretty Peach,” he returns with a squeeze to her palm, making MJ flush the color of her pet name. “Always so beautiful in the mornings.”

MJ hums and takes her turn returning their hands back to her lap, trailing her long nails up and down his muscular, veiny forearm. Apparently they’re equally as headass for each other today. “Just in the mornings?” she teases, tickling the sensitive patch of skin near the crook of his elbow.

She can’t see his eyes roll, but she imagines they do as his grin turns playful. “Of course not, but especially in the mornings. Your hair is in that cute braid and your skin is all silky soft and your eyes are extra green.” He takes his eyes off the road for a moment to appraise her looking exactly as he described. “And, you know, usually on the weekends you’d still be naked at this time. I like that part about mornings, too.”

“Oh, Lord,” she laughs with a shake of her head. “Grayson!”

She gasps his name and giggles harder as he completely catches her off guard by moving their hands right over his hardening cock. MJ squeezes him reflexively, and Grayson gives a little grunt as he shifts in his seat with a smirk.

“What?” he asks in mock defense, placing both hands back on the steering wheel. “I had to show you how much you affect me! I only have to think about you naked in our bed and it goes up.”

“That’s sweet,” MJ says, stroking his dick one more time before moving her hand further down his thigh, “but if you think I’m giving you road head in this car on this twisty road, you’re very mistaken.”

Grayson makes an obnoxious little whiny noise in defeat, pouting playfully and muttering dejectedly, “I knew we should have taken the Tesla.”

MJ raises an eyebrow. “Well, we wouldn’t have been able to bring your surfboard. Or be the first ones to christen the tiny house.”

“Oh, shit,” Gray says quietly, surprised. MJ smiles at the small victory of teasing him, her eyes diverting back to the beautiful scenery ahead of them as her mind wanders to all the things they can do in that makeshift bed.

“How about road hand, then, to start it off?”

She lets out a frustrated huff, his request interrupting her daydream. If there was ever a scenario where she didn't trust Grayson, it was one in which he was receiving any overt sexual pleasure whilst controlling a giant motor vehicle.

“Gray, I love you, but you’re pushing it.”

“Understood.”

***

It takes about half an hour for them to reach their destination, but MJ knows it was worth the drive as soon as they exit the car and she inhales the clean, salty air. They park at a little camping lot they had reserved a spot in for the day, the glittering ocean a mere few hundred feet away.

“Surf looks good,” MJ remarks, her hand shielding her eyes as she gazes out at the water. It always makes her a little nervous when Gray goes out in big swells, so the mild waves are a happy sight for her. “Nice and small; just how I like ‘em.”

Grayson looks out as well as he climbs on the roof of the van to retrieve the surfboard. “Funny, I happen to know for a fact you like ‘em long and wide,” he jokes. He just couldn’t help himself, apparently, his wide smile looking down at her from the top of the ladder a clear display of how proud of the stupid joke he is.

MJ watches the exposed muscles in his arms and shoulders ripple under his skin as he begins wrestling with the hooks and ties securing the board to the roof racks. The sight combined with his words and thoughts of what transpired earlier in the car makes her center pulse dangerously.

Needless to say, he’s successfully turned her on despite her best efforts.

“You’re insufferable, Dolan,” she says with a shake of her head. Her body feels heated from his innuendo and also the midmorning sun that is steadily raising the outside temperature. She pulls off the hoodie she had thrown on in the chilly early morning and steps into the back seat to haul out the cooler and beach bag.

“Yeah, but you love me,” his voice comes from right behind her. She turns around and yelps in surprise when she sees Grayson peeking his head upside down into the cab from the roof. He’s inches from her and is just dangling there like an overgrown monkey, which makes her fall back in the seat in a fit of giggles. He wags his brows at her playfully. “Ooh! Spider-Man kiss!”

MJ rolls her eyes good-naturedly and happily scoots over to clasp his cheeks in her hands, granting his wish by planting a sweet kiss to his lips. The scruff on his chin tickles her nose peculiarly, but she’s not mad at it. “Too much. I love you too much, you goof.”

Finally, with all their beach supplies in hand, they walk together towards the ocean. The private beach that they can access with their camp site is quiet and secluded. Best of all, it isn't clogged with tourists or people in general, which they both greatly prefer. Less people means they’re less likely to be bombarded by fangirls, or paparazzi, or any other unwanted distractions from what MJ hopes will be a perfect day.

As soon as the texture under her feet changes from firm concrete to sunken sand, MJ is stopping to remove her flip-flops so her toes can dig into the fine powder. This moment of first stepping on the beach is one of her favorite experiences, as minute and insignificant as it seems.

She looks up at Grayson, who glances back down at her questioningly. “Race ya,” she challenges suddenly, hauling ass to a perfect open spot on the wide expanse of beach. If there’s one thing she and her boyfriend have in common, it’s a highly competitive spirit.

“Cheater!” Grayson calls after her. He has the surfboard under one arm and the cooler slung over his shoulder, but everyone knows Grayson Dolan is the last person to turn down a competition. Which is why he does his best to catch up to her even with the obstacles in his arms holding him back.

The finish line is also only in MJ’s head, so she stops when she finds a spot she likes. She drops their bag and turns around with her arms raised like Rocky. Grayson isn’t very far behind her, being as in-shape as he is he’s reached her quickly, but he slows down earlier than he really needs to so he can take her in. Her breasts heave beneath a leopard print bikini top, loose hairs escape from her messy french braid, and her long legs glitter with the sand she had kicked up on her run.

She’s the most beautiful, dorky, amazing woman he’s ever seen and she is his.

MJ watches smugly as her boyfriend stalks over to her. “I wi—“

Grayson releases everything he’s carrying to the sand and grasps her face in both hands, pulling her in for a long, lingering kiss. MJ lets out a little squeak of surprise, but she melts into him half a second later. Nothing warms her soul more than his lips on hers, and she wraps her arms around his middle to bring them as close together as possible.

When he pulls back, Grayson stares at her with complete, obvious adoration. Ethan would have called him a simp if he were there, that’s how sappy his twin looks. Grayson can’t help himself, though; he is a simp for MJ, and, truthfully, he doesn’t give two shits who knows it as long as he makes her smile up at him like she is now, every day.

It’s why yesterday he had casually opened a new browser window, convincing himself he was just curiously window shopping on the ring section of Tiffany’s and the like… even after he got sucked into the customization tool on one website for nearly two hours.

Shaking his head and biting his lip through a grin, he traces the freckles on MJ’s cheek. “I want a rematch later.”

MJ squeezes him and smacks his ass playfully before releasing him and reaching into the bag for the big blanket. “You’re always such a sore loser,” she teases, unfolding the cloth and weighing it down with Grayson’s help. She digs through the bag again and hands him his wetsuit. “Go catch some waves. I have to catch up on this podcast by this really sexy guy and his twin brother.”

If there could be snapshots of the rest of the day, they would have been out of a picturesque rom-com. For a while, MJ rests on her tummy as she watches Grayson glide through the water, his deep voice simultaneously reverberating in her ears through her AirPods.

Eventually, when he’s done surfing — looking like a beach Adonis when he walks up the shore with the top half of his wetsuit folded down at his hips, surfboard under his arm and his wet abs glistening in the sun — he joins her on the blanket.

In the early afternoon MJ props herself up on her elbow, appraising his form with hungry, appreciative eyes as he tans on his back next to her. He has his hands pillowed behind his head, which causes his biceps to bulge and her thighs to clench. MJ is lost in him as she trails her finger over the features of his face — down his button nose, smoothing over his arched brows, across his rosy cheeks, against his pillowy lips. She smiles as he sighs contentedly and drops a peck to the tip of his nose before settling with her cheek on his chest. He smells like tanning oil and ocean and that clean, woody musk that MJ knows as him.

Later, they wade around in the sea between batches of sun bathing. At some points, he’s holding her waist-deep in the water with her legs wrapped around his middle and arms around his neck, lips connecting occasionally amidst easy conversation. Other times they have full-on water fights that have her squealing and him laughing as they splash each other back and forth.

It isn’t until the orange and pink hues of the sunset paint the sky that they’re brought back to the beach for good. Once they rinse off and have all of their things collected, they head back to the van.

MJ removes her bikini inside while Grayson reattaches the surfboard to the roof. She slips on her sweatshirt and a fresh pair of soft shorts just in time for him to carefully crack open the back door to make sure she’s decent.

Grayson smiles widely as he crawls in on the already made bed where she sits and is piling her damp hair into a messy bun. “So fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, giving her a lingering kiss while her hands are still mid-twist in her long hair.

A pleasant warmth swoops through her belly at his compliment; it had taken her a while to get accustomed to not only how often Grayson rains sweet praises like that down on her, but how sincerely he means them, too.

She hums into his mouth right before he pulls away. “I left your shorts there, baby,” she says, gesturing behind her with her head. Gray thanks her and she starts to dig through the cooler as he tugs his swimsuit down his inked legs, following them back up with the clean shorts.

They eat dinner with the back doors wide open, a perfect view of the sun setting below the ocean’s horizon right in front of them. A pleasant breeze floats around them in the van, cool and refreshing from being picked up right off the water. MJ nuzzles her cheek on Grayson’s bare shoulder, and he presses a kiss to the top of her head as she chews her last bite of tofu.

“Thank you for such a perfect day,” MJ says a minute later, gazing up at him while he takes a sip of La Croix. “Seriously, I can’t remember the last time I felt so…carefree. Loved. In love. Not that you don’t make me feel those things every day, but… y’know. Today was just great.”

Her hand reaches to caress his stubbly cheek, a soft smile at the corner of her full lips. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Gray.”

Grayson looks down at her silently, but his eyes say everything his lips don’t. He tucks his can and their empty tupperware back into the cooler, tossing the bag into one of the back seats behind them so it’s out of the way.

He cups her cheeks in both hands, wasting no more time in bringing their mouths together. MJ sighs and shifts so she’s that much closer to him, just as his tongue prods gently at her pliant lips to coax them open.

They make out like that, slow and deep, with the soundtrack of crashing waves wafting through the open doors. Gray lies her down and supports the back of her head with his forearm, his free hand swooping up and down her side before settling in the dramatic dip of her waist as he pulls away just barely.

Eyes closed, their breaths come heavy and mingle sweetly in the minute space between them. Grayson suddenly lets out a little incredulous huff, shaking his head and diving back in blindly to suck softly on her bottom lip. MJ lets out a little moan and digs her nails gently down his bare back, her eyes fluttering open.

“What?” she asks with a little smile of her own, nuzzling her nose against his in an Eskimo kiss.

Grayson’s hazel orbs meet her green ones, and the hand resting on her waist comes to cup her face once again so he can stroke the new freckles that litter her high cheekbone.

“I’m gonna marry you,” he answers, chuckling at her shocked little gasp. He hurries to clarify himself. “One day, when we’re ready. You’re my world, MJ. Maybe it’s selfish, or self aggrandizing, but hearing you say that makes it so obvious to me that you’re the only person I’d ever want to spend the rest of my life with. Because I feel the same about you. I only ever want to make you feel that way; nothing makes me happier.”

MJ is stunned into silence. Grayson isn’t exactly the most eloquent person, so somehow she reasons that his perfect delivery of such meaningful words means they’re truly heartfelt. Not that she would have doubted him either way, but their relationship has suddenly shifted even deeper in the matter of one day. One simple, amazing day.

She feels the prickle of tears behind her eyes, and bites her lip through a watery smile as she raises her hand to run her fingers through the back of his hair. No matter how happy she is, her instinct for dealing with any emotions is to deflect with humor. “Can’t wait ’til I pop out a few of your babies. From the sounds of it, you’ll be worshipping the ground I walk on.”

That hits him right in the baby fever, his dick hardening even more behind his shorts at the thought of her belly swollen with his child. Joking or not, she’s absolutely right.

“Fuck,” he whispers, grinning as he ducks his head to nibble her favorite spot just behind her jaw and right under her ear. “How many of my babies? Hm?”

“Mmm,” she sighs, scratching lightly at his scalp, considering the question seriously. “Four little Dolan babies, I think. Three boys and a little girl.”

“Yeah,” Grayson agrees easily, making his way across her jaw with soft little suckles. “But make that three girls and a little boy, and you've got a deal.”

MJ giggles and grabs his face so they’re staring each other in the eye again. “No actual baby-making until there’s a ring on this finger.” She wiggles the digits of her left hand, which Grayson grabs and kisses the back of with a smirk. If only she knew just how close that moment might be. “But we can always practice in the meantime.”

Grayson nods and hitches her leg up his hip as he ducks down for a surprisingly chaste kiss considering her invitation a second before. As much as he wants her, he has a need deep in his chest just to be close to her for the moment. To feel her hold him and nuzzle into the warm crook of his neck, sucking gently on that freckle there to make his head swim like after a nice glass of wine.

MJ is just as happy with that arrangement, and she lets her body be still and her breaths tickle the sensitive skin at his collarbone. The ocean breeze billowing through the open doors of the van is cool and salty and comforting.

“It’s crazy,” Grayson whispers after a few peaceful minutes, his fingers starting to trail up and down her covered back slowly. MJ pulls back a little so she can see his face. He isn't looking at her, but rather out the open van doors at the last moments of the sun setting behind the water. “I remember feeling exactly this way the first day we met, only now it’s…more. You felt right then, so right it was scary. And here we are. How did I know that you were my person as soon as you let me walk you back to that tent?”

MJ smiles and her belly swoops. She thinks back to that night, how scared she had been and how instantly — well, as he said — right Grayson had felt the minute they crossed paths.

“I did kind of seduce you,” she chuckles, lifting her head to nibble at the underside of his chin and reveling in the sensation of his deep chuckle vibrating against her lips. “Maybe you’re just under my Black Widow spell. Have I never let it slip I’m only after your money?”

Grayson laughs louder, squeezing her to his body tighter. “Nope. But that’s the MJ I remember falling head over heels for in a matter of hours. Smart and witty and sweet and so fucking pretty with her green eyes and bright smile.”

MJ stares up at him with stars in those emerald eyes he adores so much. He is unreal to both see and hear; his skin has turned olive and his hair has the crisp of the ocean still in it, and the fact that he can still pinpoint the little things he liked about her from so long ago…

“Do you love me?” she asks quietly. It’s so ridiculously unnecessary to ask, he tells her multiple times a day, every day.

“So much, Peach,” he murmurs back predictably, finally swooping down to capture her lips like she wanted earlier, tongues meshing instantly.

He tastes so familiar and sweet. She wants to devour him slowly, intimately, like she has a thousand times before.

“Close the doors?” MJ gasps after the simple swipe of his thumb over her nipple through her sweatshirt makes her thighs tremble and her hips grind onto his half-hard erection. Something about the heartwarming intimacy of the day has translated to her body being physically sensitive beyond belief.

Grayson nods and sits up, reaching for the switch of the fairy lights MJ had hung up a few weeks ago before slamming the doors shut on the nighttime scenery.

While he does as she asked, she scoots up to rest her head on a pillow and watches his bare, chiseled torso glow in the dim, sensual lights. Right as he turns around he catches her struggling to free herself from her hoodie.

“Let me do it, Peach. I wanna do it,” he breathes, dipping down to kiss her soundly before tugging upward on the hem of the soft fabric. MJ drops her head to the pillow to break the seal of their lips, lifting her arms up so he can pull the garment over her head.

Grayson flings it to the front of the van and brings their mouths together so quickly, like he simply can’t be away from her lips for longer than a second. His hands reach up and cup the pliable mounds of her breasts, which are several shades lighter than the rest of her chest. Clearly, he could care less, and MJ sighs softly as he massages them firmly, his calloused palms creating delicious friction on her hypersensitive nipples.

“Still the prettiest tits I’ve ever seen, too,” he smirks, making his way across her jaw. MJ smiles too, eyes closed in bliss as he kisses the familiar trail down her sternum. Predictably, his warm lips suction around the bud of her left breast, and she lets her mind wander through the pleasure to flash back on the first time he did this.

“We’re still kind of in a tent, too, y’know,” she gasps as he switches sides, letting out her first moan of the night when he scrapes his teeth against her. “Just…more bougie.”

Grayson hums, quickly getting lost in the feel of how soft her tits are and how much he loves the sensation of her hard nipples under his tongue. He drops his hips down so he can grind his full erection against her hot center, eliciting wanton gasps from both of them.

MJ groans again, the feminine sound literal music to his ears and the perfect reinforcement to keep going. She hooks her legs around his waist to hold his hips against her, thrusting up against him as he continues to bite and lick and suckle her breasts.

“Holy shit, Gray, right there… I’m gonna cum,” she whimpers, grasping at his hair to hold him down where he was sucking perfectly on her breast, and continues to grind roughly on his dick. Sure enough, a few seconds later she’s shuddering with the most intense orgasm she’s ever had without manual stimulation. Even from Grayson.

Grayson himself can hardly believe it; they have a great sex life, but he can’t remember the last time he had gotten her off just through some intense dry humping.

He isn’t going to question it, though, because it only means one thing: she’s as voracious for him tonight as he is for her. He growls when she starts to come down and surprises her with his mouth planting roughly back on hers. MJ kisses him back lazily as her mind clears some, smiling and fluttering her eyes open to meet his dark gaze when she feels his middle finger replace his tongue in her mouth. She closes her swollen, pouty lips around the digit and sucks, holding onto his hand and maintaining complete eye contact with him when he moans softly. She pulls his hand out of her mouth and pushes it into her shorts.

“Fuck,” he rasps, collecting her slippery cum against his finger, swirling it against his thumb before trailing his middle finger up to her clit. He soaks in her expression as her eyes roll back at the first contact, his favorite reaction she has to his touch. “Fuck, MJ. So fucking wet for me.”

MJ nods quickly, opening her eyes again to watch him watch her. “Lemme taste,” she whimpers.

She pulls his hand back up and doesn’t wait for permission or leave him time to process her demand as she sucks the slick moisture straight off his finger, the taste of herself gracing her tongue causing her pussy to gush even more. When his brain finally catches up, he’s immediately ripping his hand away from her with a harsh groan and hooking it around the back of her neck to kiss her deeply. His tongue plunders her mouth as he searches for traces of that sweet, earthy tang he knows oh-so well. MJ’s hands distractedly push at the waistband of his shorts, desperate for the feel of his dick in her hands.

“Please, baby,” she whines against his lips when they break for air, using the moment of clarity to tug more determinedly at his shorts. “Need you.”

“Need me where?” he teases, backing up so she can’t reach him as he pulls her own shorts down her long, newly tanned legs. Once he flings the scrap of fabric to join her sweater, he ducks down and swipes his tongue quickly over each of her nipples. “Here?”

MJ groans and shakes her head, her brain not operating at enough capacity to tease back, it’s so clouded with desire for him. “Gray…”

Grayson smirks and grabs one of her hands that are coasting down his back and attempting to pull him down against her. He cups her petite palm against his pulsing erection, sighing a little when her fingers wrap around him through his shorts instinctively. He drops his hand and brings it to her pussy, his fingertips dancing delicately against her swollen lower lips. His head swims at how wet she is and how the solid feel of him seems to have brought her mind back to earth, because as soon as he lets go of her hand she delves past his waistband to grip him directly.

“My dick, baby, you need my dick?” he asks softly, his voice a little high and his breath pitchy as she strokes him steadily now.

MJ moans and her pussy throbs simply at his words. She nods hastily. “Need it in me,” she manages, meeting his heated gaze as she gives him a firm squeeze. “Love your dick.”

“Yeah,” he sighs, his touch leaving her as he helps her in getting him completely naked, kicking his shorts off when they reach his ankles.

He takes a moment to gather himself and to slow down, trying to get himself back in that intimate headspace they were so deep in earlier, so that this doesn’t turn into just a hot, hard fuck. They love that, and it’s kind of their bread and butter in the bedroom. But he wants to hold her close and savor her body, to pass that loving energy between them in the most special, physical way.

MJ’s chest heaves as she watches Grayson hover above her, staring at her, and she parts her legs to welcome him back into her space. He looks like a fucking Greek god in the low light, his hair curly from the saltwater and sweat, his skin golden and his muscles bulging. She can’t possibly want him any more than in that moment.

“C’mere,” she whispers, reaching her arms out and making grabby hands at him. She can’t allow another second to go by without the sensation of his smooth skin against hers.

Grayson smiles sweetly at her, eyes sultry as he lowers himself at her request and presses their bodies together from chests to centers. She cups his cheeks and scratches her fingers against his scruff as they kiss slowly, deeply, desire building intensely once again as they grind together at the middle.

“Please, Grayson,” she finally says again.

All thoughts of any more teasing are out the door as Grayson obliges her. He dips his fingers in her pussy, testing her readiness and using her sweet juices to coat his dick.

MJ spreads her legs up and out, bent at the knees, and she throws her head back with a gasp as he enters her in a short thrust; a little more on the second, until he bottoms out with the third.

“Fuck me,” she whimpers, her hands pushing on the firm globes of his ass.

Grayson obeys with a groan, drawing his hips in and out steadily. “Wanna fuck you slow,” he says in her ear, thrusting all the way in and all the way out. The warm clutch of her perfect pussy is so intense at that tempo that he shudders and his eyes roll back. “Slow and deep, Peach.”

“Yes,” MJ agrees, her breaths coming in fast despite the maintained speed of his dick. He’s working her up so good, and she leans forward to bite into the junction of his neck and shoulder out of habit to keep her sounds muffled.

“Yes, baby,” she squeals quietly when her minute adjustment shifts the angle just right for him to hit her spot over and over. Her nails claw at his back, scraping over the work of art that is both his rippling muscles and the picture of the lions inked into them. “Oh my God, keep fucking me like that.. like that…”

The air confined in the van is warm and thick. Sweat drips from the ends of his hair, his hot breaths fan over her forehead, and his chain dangles enticingly across her face as he stares down at her all blissed out beneath him. Nothing turns him on more than her words of encouragement, which are usually muted due to the fact that his omnipresent twin brother lives across the hall. But now that they’re alone, in nature — just like the night they met — all filters are off. It makes him even more determined to get her to cum so hard she forgets any of those sweet praises she’s mumbling other than his name.

It’s already so, so good, but as soon as he gets on his knees just enough to gain more leverage to thrust even harder into her, that knot in MJ’s stomach starts growing in a fantastically unfamiliar way. Her eyes roll back and Grayson reaches a huge hand up to support her head against his shoulder, sensing how perfect the angle is for her and wanting to help her maintain it. She’s getting tighter and wetter around him, so much so that he has to grit his teeth and hiss to avoid having to pull out and stop.

“MJ,” he moans into her ear, tugging on her lobe with his teeth, an unspoken warning that he’s close. He’ll hold on as long as he can, but he absolutely needs to get her there first.

In the back of her mind, she comprehends his cue. But she’s so focused on reaching the bursting point of that expanding ball behind her belly, she can’t help but selfishly draw every ounce of pleasure she can from him. She thinks she knows what’s going to happen, and it will be a first-time experience for both of them.

It’s only going to take a few more deep, hard thrusts, and she’ll be there. Almost there…

“Gray!” she squeaks, squeezing a hand between their bodies to push against his abs, just in time for him to pull out and her to gush all over him and the blankets serving as makeshift sheets beneath them. It’s an indescribable release that washes over her, her own loud, shaky squeals of pleasure distant noises in the back of her head. She can only see colors behind her closed eyelids, greens and blues and lavenders sparkling in her mind’s eye like a mystical fog.

Grayson can’t believe what he’s seeing. His shocked and aroused groan sounds obnoxiously loud and foreign in his own ears; the fact that he doesn’t bust his nut right there on the blanket next to hers is a miracle. Instinctively, he reaches his fingers down to help her through it by rubbing her clit, huffing out an incredulous laugh when her thighs clamp instantly around his hand and a little more of her juices come out, soaking his hand. His name tumbles repeatedly out of her lips, just like he was aiming for and unwittingly exceeding his own expectations.

He’s painfully hard as he leans over her again, kissing her through her mindless whimpers as she starts to slowly come-to, her damp thighs opening once again and allowing him to slip between them. Right where he belongs.

“MJ?” he whispers, stroking her brow softly and watching her face intently. “You okay?”

Eyes still closed and breasts heaving, MJ takes a second to respond, but she moans quietly and nods, puckering her lips in invitation for him to meet with his. He obliges, indulging her for a moment until he can’t wait anymore. “Where do you want me to cum?”

“Inside,” she breathes at once, reaching down to grasp him and bring him to her dripping pussy. Grayson flinches at her sudden grip on him and the overwhelming wetness against the sensitive head of his dick. “Come on, Bear. Want you to cum hard inside me.”

With a groan, he slides back inside her, and a few hard, sloppy thrusts later, he’s shooting deep in her pussy. He’s never cum so hard in his life, and he whines into her mouth with the timing of his spurts. She hums contentedly, obsessed with that feeling of warmth that comes with, well, his cum.

“So good,” he murmurs when he’s finally done, pulling out of her slowly. He grabs a spare towel and cleans up the liquid white that follows him dripping from her center. “That was incredible, MJ. You’re incredible.”

MJ shakes her head in agreement, clapping a hand to her forehead and giggling softly, her knees bent and swaying side to side. “I thought we had done everything to try to get that to happen. Turns out we just had to go back to the beginning.”

Grayson lies down next to her, turning her head with a gentle hand on her cheek so he can press their lips together. “I love you,” he says simply. “My pretty Peach.”

MJ grabs a blanket and tosses it over the both of them, brushing her nose against his once they’re cuddled together. “And I love my Gray Bear. Mine.”

“Yours,” he whispers in affirmation, tucking her head into the crook of his neck until they’re both lulled to sleep in their cozy little bougie tent.

#dolan twins #grayson dolan #grayson dolan smut #dolan twins fic #grayson dolan fic #grayson mj #grayson dolan oc

177 notes · View notes

flying-nightwing · 4 years ago

Text

Night Adventures in an Unlikely Maze of Blue and Yellow

Hiiiii guys. This is for @batwngs, the MVP of leaving the best comments ever and being generally an amazing person. I still have trouble closing my imagines so nevermind the underwhelming ending. Anyway enjoy the probably sweetest thing I’ve ever written, it’s really really really freakin’ cute.

Masterlist in bio // pinned

Pairing: Dick Grayson x reader

Word count: 3174

Warnings: none beside mentions of doing the do and one (1) innuendo

Summary: While most people would qualify married life as boring, having Dick Grayson for a husband turns the most mudane task into an adventure. This is the story of one shopping trip turned into a teenage dream (Katy Perry can suck it up)

You were making breakfast when you heard it.

The sound of the coffee brewing and the sizzling pan were singing the beginning of a new day, harmonizing with your soft humming of a song you had heard on the radio the day before. The sun basked the whole kitchen in golden sun and warmed your back through your fluffy robe, so much you never wanted to leave this spot. You closed your eyes, taking in the peace you had long seeked. But then, it was interrupted by a loud crash and a high pitched scream.

You perked up, turning down the stovetops and rushing to the bathroom. Luckily, your husband never kept the door locked. In fact, it was wide open when you came in. You reached the shower handle and pulled it open with all the concern in the world, only to see Dick with a pout on his pretty face.

“Dick” You frowned. “Is everything okay?”

“This is the worst thing that happened to me” He almost sobbed. Your concern spiked.

“What happened?” You asked. “Are you hurt?”

“My toes...” His pout intensified as he pointed behind him. “The rack broke and all the bottles fell on my feet”

The sudden stress and concern fell, only to be replaced by your incredulous expression. You shouldn’t have been surprised by his blown out of proportion reaction, but again, Dick was probably the most dramatic person you knew. Punch him, shoot him, beat him up to an inch of his life, the guy will shake it off and get back on his feet. Minorly inconvenience him? You’ll never hear the end of it.

“You big baby” You rolled your eyes. “You’ll be fine”

“You won’t join me and make it better?” He now gave you his puppy eyes, opening his arms. You had to admit, it was hard not to cave in and go hug the giant toddler. “I’m hurt”

“You’ll get over it” You tried to say sternly, but a small smile still made it past you. “I’m going to finish breakfast now”

“Don’t forget--”

“Your cereals yes I know”

“You’re the best” He yelled after you as you closed the shower door. “I love you!”

“I love you too!”

You went back to the kitchen and turned on the stove tops again, taking care of the hashbrowns and bacon awaiting for your return in their pans. While they cooked, you cut oranges and melons, poured Dick’s favourite cereals in a bowl and put a cup of oat milk right beside. You started the eggs when you heard Dick come out of the bathroom, and managed to have everything ready on the table seconds before he came walking in in his own matching robe, his hair all damp and face shaved.

“Smells amazing in here” He announced loudly.

You walked to him and kissed him on the cheek. He smelled of aftershave and jasmine shower gel. “Just in time”

Dick paused in his steps and stared at the full table with childish wonder. Then, his beautiful, almost sparkling eyes found yours. “What did I do to deserve you? And most importantly what would I do without you?”

“You were very handsome and convincing” You answered the first question with a sly smirk. “And probably dead in a ditch”

He looked like he wanted to argue, but closed his mouth when nothing came out. “Probably dead in a ditch, yeah” He admitted, before his gorgeous smile graced his features again. “Thank you for breakfast babe”

“You’re very welcome” You gladly accepted the quick peck on your lips, and laughed as he hurried to the table. You followed him and sat in front of him, watching as he piled food on his plate, unimpressed. You had been caught short handed when you first started dating, foolishly making food for two people like the boy didn’t eat enough to match a small village. But now you knew the trick and would never make that mistake again; you had to cook for a family of four. It was of utter most importance at breakfast, because he always woke up hungry. You didn’t mind though, because nobody appreciated your food more than him. You’d always get a ‘thank you’ before and after each meal, and he’d usually drop positive comments while he ate as well.

Cooking for Dick Grayson was gratifying, to say the least.

“What?” He asked right after he shoved a spoonful of cereals on his mouth. “Why you shtaring?”

“Don’t worry about it” Your smile widened as you shook your head.

“It makes me shelf conschious”

“Aw baby” You let out a small laugh. “Don’t be. You’re cute when you eat cereals”

He smiled wide, chewed cereal and milk pouring out of his mouth and onto his chin. You averted your eyes from the disaster and sighed.

“I walked into that one” You mumbled, looking up at the ceiling. “Should have known. That’s on me”

“Sorry” He half heartedly apologized, the laughter in his voice evident. “You can look again now, I swallowed”

You slowly trailed your glance on him, sending him a silent warning not to add a sexual joke to it. He visibly wanted to, but instead chose the prudent way and held his hands in defense of his innocence. You nodded slightly in satisfaction and served yourself breakfast, or what was remaining of each plate. You had enough however, since Dick knew exactly how much you needed and took care of leaving your preferred quantity. How thoughtful of him.

“So, I guess we’ll need to go to Ikea to replace that shower rack” You spoke up once you knew his hunger rush had calmed down. “We can go this afternoon if you’ve got nothing to do”

“Oooh, I wanted to buy candles for the living room” He nodded. “Heard they got new ones. Yeah, we can go this afternoon”

“Cool” You nodded, taking a sip of your coffee. “There’s always less people near closing anyway, so that way we’ll avoid the crowds”

“Brilliant” He pointed, nodding along. “I hate when they’re all gathered around the Rättviken and you can’t even see your Pilkån”

You laughed at his exaggerated mannerism and his pretentious eye roll over his botched swedish accent, then finished your breakfast in comfortable silence. Whoever tried to scare you about married life when you were younger was clearly missing on something amazing, or was dead wrong, because you wouldn’t trade it for anything.

---

Some might say going to Ikea in disguise might be a little excessive.

But you and Dick knew better. The number of times you were accosted by either journalists raising to the opportunity to grab a quick interview taped on their phones or nosy citizens looking for a peek of Gotham’s finest son to show off on their instagram feed was enough for you to take measures to ensure your privacy. You didn’t exactly mind, in fact, you thought it was kind of funny. However, sometimes you wanted to be left alone to your candle and shower rack shopping.

Today was one of these days.

Hence, the baseball caps and sunglasses that would follow you even inside away from the sun rays, and away from unwanted attention. Dick suggested he wore his fake mustache, but you deemed it unnecessary for this not so delicate operation. Arms linked together, you entered the swedish domestic heaven and began snooping around the showrooms, pointing out what you liked better and styles you would definitely consider if your house hadn’t been entirely redecorated when you bought it some years ago.

“We should buy an apartment just so we can recreate those rooms” You said as you paused in front of a beautiful study. “That would be fun”

“How about we just buy the show rooms so we can go whenever we want?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, good point” You grinned, then let it fall. “If only we had more than negative ten dollars in between us both”

“But then,” He began, glancing at you. “The same problem arises for the apartment option. We’d still be broke”

You blinked a few times, then sighed. “Then we’ve got no choice” You stared at him through his sunglasses. “We gotta steal the showrooms and make a run for it”

You held for two more seconds before you couldn’t contain your laughter anymore. The few people in the store looked at you like you were crazy, but you cared very little for them and their opinions. The facts were you had fun and they didn’t. You moved along to the bedrooms, where the big fluffy beds just called your name. Like your minds were connected, you and Dick both launched yourself on the king sized mattress in the orange tinted room. You bounced like you weighed a feather, then sank into the memory foam that would guarantee a good night of sleep to anyone bringing the mattress home.

“I’m comfy here” Dick scooted closer to you, reaching for your waist to cuddle and burying his face in your neck. “Don’t wanna leave”

“Babe” You giggled, half heartedly pushing him away from you. You knew it was impossible to move him if he didn’t want to be moved. “We’re gonna get kicked out of the store if we get caught cuddling”

A mischievous glint flashed in his eyes, and before you could strategize to stop whatever plan he acted in his mind, he somehow pulled you from the middle of the bed and used his vigilante stealth to carry you inside a closet, shutting the door behind him. Your face was flushed at the sudden rolling and spinning, and he only had a shit eating grin you could see all too well even in the dark.

“What the hell?” You whisper-screamed. “We could have been seen!”

“Nope” He seemed so proud of himself. “Made sure of it”

“Cameras?”

“Blind spot” He replied. “I checked everything. I’m a pro, babe”

You kept glaring at him with narrowed eyes. “I hate you”

“Uh huh” He gave you a small, unconvinced nod, knowing all too well it wasn’t even close to be true. “That’s why you stormed off the closet the second after I brought you here… Oh wait”

“Smart ass” You lightly slapped his chest, a small smile creeping on your lips. You kind of enjoyed the thrill of hiding out somewhere anybody could burst in at any moment, and you definitely didn’t dislike the proximity to your husband. Even if you were married, his close presence still made your heart do backflips.

“Your smart ass” He corrected, giving you once again his puppy eyes. Well, you couldn’t actually see his eyes, but the tilt of his head and the slight jut of his lower lip all pointed to his famous facial expression that got him virtually anything. And you were far from immune to it. So naturally, you leaned in for a kiss, knowing it was what he was begging for this time.

And just like that, you were making out like two teenagers in the janitor closet.

It was messy, teeth clashed and giggles interrupted the motions more than not. Dick bumped his head at least twice on the bar above him and you almost fell down on your ass if it hadn’t been from Dick holding you. Hands got grabby and before you knew it, the temptation to make articles of clothing fly like fireworks brought you back to reality. You reluctantly broke the kiss, still giggling as he definitely didn’t want to leave your lips just yet. He whined when he realized you weren’t coming back.

“Hey, hold on cowboy” You chuckled, holding his shoulder. “If we keep going on like that, we’ll end up making a baby inside this closet”

The playful expression came back, along with a dash of flirting. His hand caressed your arm. “Would it be so bad?”

“Yes” You deadpanned. “Because you would name the baby like, Songesand or something”

He gasped. “I would never name my child after Ikea furniture”

You raised an eyebrow. “We’re not naming our baby Björn either”

He paused, caught in the headlights. You knew him so well he was becoming predictable. “But then how will people know he was conceived in swedish furniture?”

“You dork” You poked his chest, making the grin return on his face. “Obviously we let people know by having an ABBA reference in his middle name”

He laughed loudly, but you didn’t care whether or not you got caught. You were having too much fun. “Please marry me now”

“Sorry, already taken” You tsked, showing your ring. The one he put on your finger on your wedding day. “But he’s a cool guy, maybe I could talk to him about us seeing each other”

“Nah, he’s a jerk” He brushed off. “I’d rather have you all to myself”

He was about to kiss you again when you heard the lights going off. It was already dark in the closet, but there was no doubt, the main lights had been shut down. Your eyes widened as you stared at each other for a moment in surprise, until Dick grabbed his phone in his back pocket and checked the time. He turned the phone to you, letting you read the clock screaming 17:45 at you.

“Uh oh” You bit your lip. Fifteen minutes after closing. “They’re closing already? Shouldn’t they do a check up before?”

He shrugged. “Maybe the employees got some places to be?”

“Who’s got places to be on a Tuesday night?”

“Nightwing?”

“So the employees are all vigilantes?”

“Maybe, we can’t know for sure”

“Sure, okay. So we’re locked in?”

“Yup”

You took off your cap and sunglasses. “Guess we won’t need these anymore”

“Come on” He said as he also took off his semi disguise. “Don’t tell me you’ve never thought about getting locked in an Ikea for the night?”

“I have actually” You pointed out. “It’s both my dream and my nightmare depending on who I’m there with”

“And I’m..?”

“Oh definitely nightmare” You replied in a serious tone, and his eyebrows raised. “Just kidding, being locked in here with you was on my bucket list”

“Attagirl!” He laughed, pushing open the closet like he realized you didn’t need to be hiding in there anymore. The store now had an eerie feeling, something on the other side of the vibe spectrum than it would usually be. It felt like you had crossed in another dimension narnia style. “This is gonna be fun”

“Where do we start?” You asked, stretching your legs. You had gotten a cramp from being all folded up in the closet. “Bathrooms? Living rooms?”

“Guards’ round” The mischief in his eyes returned, and just like that you were remembered you also would have to evade a guard. “We find out where he starts, how fast he makes his round, where he’s looking more carefully. Then we begin the cat and mouse game”

“Sounds like a plan” You nodded, then watched him perk up at something above your shoulder.

He put a finger against his lips and stared down the hallway until you heard the shuffling of keys. How he managed to hear it long before you did would forever remain a mystery to you. In a blink, he wrapped his arms around your waist and spun around behind the very wardrobe you were hiding in minutes ago. You put a hand against your mouth to hold back the giggle that threatened to reveal your presence, and it didn’t help that you could feel Dick’s grin on the skin of your neck. He only turned you around in his arms when he was sure the guard was far enough.

“All clear” He confirmed, a boyish expression gracing his features. Yup, you definitely felt like a teenager sneaking around where you shouldn’t. The thrill was a refreshing spin to your routine. “Where to?”

“Hmm” You hummed, tilting your head. “Cap on the living rooms?”

Without warning, he grabbed your hand and took off running in the opposite direction from the security guard and toward the beginning of the Ikea maze. You almost let out a squeal of surprise, but managed to keep it down for the sake of your stealth operation. He only slowed down once you reached the area, letting go of your hand to jump on a couch. He threw his arm over his head and adopted a dramatic pause.

“My love, thee life shall be intertwined withet mine for the ends of times”

“Oh my dearest Eleanor” You joined in, adopting a much lower tone to match his higher one. You kneeled in front of him. “I taketh the oath to love you forever”

“Even if my corset is not made of real lace?”

You gasped. “How could you lieth to me such way?”

Dick was about to reply something even stupider when you were interrupted.

“Who’s there?”

“Oh shit” You hissed, grabbing Dick’s wrist and sprinting away. You were just getting to the good part of your goofing.

“The English, they’re invading!” He yelled loud enough to be sure the guard chasing you heard. “Ring the bell, wake the men, hide the tea!”

“Hey come back!” The guard, well, a different one, chased after you. You didn’t plan on having two of them making rounds. “You can’t be here!”

“You’ll never take us alive!” You added before you took a shortcut through the living room appliances to try and gain ground, then glanced at Dick. “If you have any vigilante disappearance act, now would be the time honey”

“I’m trying to spot an exit point--oh there”

You were yanked through an employees only zone, from where you easily found the door for the outside smoking zone. You could hear the security guard behind, but you were too fast. You came to a halt in front of the fence, hesitating. You were able to more or less follow Dick at a running pace, but you were in no way an acrobat or parkour expert. Dick, knowing this, didn’t waste time grabbing your waist and lifting you above it and jumping suit. You then ran straight back to Dick’s car and drove quickly out of the parking lot towards your home.

“Oh my god” You laughed in disbelief. “This is the craziest thing I’ve ever done”

He laughed heartily. “You’ve always wanted to see what patrol was like as Nightwing, this is as close as it gets without doing the real thing”

“I mean, beside the role play probably”

“Hmm no, it happens more often than you would think” He nodded. You kept staring at him for a moment, but he was serious. Well, after a small reflexion, and knowing his family, the surprise kind of fell apart. It made sense.

“We should do this every week” You declared. “It was fun!”

“Told ya it would” He winked.

“With all of this though,” You began, suddenly thoughtful. “We did forget the shower rack”

“And the candles!” He gasped. “Not the candles!”

#dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x you #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson fluff #dick grayson

104 notes · View notes

youngjusticeslut · 4 years ago

Text

Remember

Fandom: Young Justice Links: FF.net // AO3 Characters: Artemis Crock, Dick Grayson, M’gann M’orzz, Conner Kent, Kaldur’ahm, Wyynnde, Garth, Wally West, mentions of Jade, Lian, Paula, Roy, Shalaina, Barbara, Zatanna and Raquel. Summary: In the six months after Wally's ceasing, the six members of the original team each remember him in their own way. // or, how the team copes with his death. Rating: T Word Count: 4k Disclaimer: I don’t own any of these characters.

The Watchtower June 23rd, 23:16 EDT

Conner puts himself in charge of Wally’s hologram before anyone else can offer.

He knows that he’s the most logical choice. Kaldur will want to do it, but will get too caught up dealing with the team that he’ll put himself on the backburner. M’gann won’t be able to look at the memorial without crying. Artemis is too much of a wreck. And Dick… Dick is gone.

Sure, someone else could have done it. They could have left it to the League. Or Bart. Bart would have readily taken it on and roped Flash into helping. It wouldn’t have felt right, though. Wally was one of them. The original six. It’s only fair that one of them handles it.

In the three days it takes them to build the hologram, Conner handles the harder things. Memorial arrangements. Consoling the team. Picking up whatever slack he can load on his shoulders. He keeps busy.

Everyone else needs time to grieve. More than he does, at least. Grief is an emotion he can easily control. It nestles inside him, content, easily ignored when more pressing matters come to play. It’s always been this way. When people get hurt, or die, he’s always the one they can count on to keep things going. It’s instinct, by now. And truth be told, it helps him feel a little bit better.

When the hologram is finished, Conner stays behind and stares up at it. None of this is fair. Artemis shouldn’t have to go through this pain. Dick shouldn’t have to live without his best friend. Wally should have continued to live, to be their friend.

But he’s gone now, and someone has to step up. Bart may have filled Wally’s shoes as the new Kid Flash, but being a hero was only a part of his legacy. After Kaldur, Wally always made sure that everyone was taken care of. He’d hang around the Cave and make sure all the new members got acquainted. If anyone needed a place to crash, Wally’s home, and then his and Artemis’, was always a safe haven. He’d organized game nights, movie nights, team outings. With him gone, there’s nobody left to take care of everyone else.

Nobody, except him. For so long, Conner fought the idea of leadership. Everyone’s role on the team was well defined. Kaldur was the leader. Artemis was the spirit. Dick was the brains. M’gann was the power. He was the strength. And Wally was the heart. Conner was comfortable in his role, and he never sought to change it. Things are different, now. It feels like the right time to step up.

Wally was his friend. His first friend. Conner needs to do right by him, to keep his memory alive.

He crouches low, touching the base of the hologram. “You don’t have to worry,” he says, barely speaking above a whisper. “I’ll take care of them for you. I promise.” He’ll make sure that Artemis gets through this. He’ll find Dick and be there for him in any way he needs. He’ll force Kaldur to take breaks and stop overworking himself. And M’gann… he’ll find a way to forgive her and work through their past.

Life’s too short to do anything else.

Happy Harbor July 1st, 13:34 EST

The snickerdoodles don’t taste right.

Wally’s memorial is in two hours, and despite spending the better part of her morning in the kitchen, M’gann has nothing to show for it. She sighs, dumping the fourth batch of cookies into the waste bin. It wouldn’t be right to show up empty handed. Wally would never forgive her.

Ignoring the pang in her chest, M’gann straightens up and rolls up the sleeves of her sweater, resolved to try again.

“Let’s see,” she mutters to herself, pulling up the recipe in her head. “Butter, eggs, flour…” A dash of cinnamon. A sprinkle of salt. The ingredients float towards the dirty mixer, ready for another attempt. Hopefully this time she won’t leave anything out.

The batter comes together easily enough. M’gann has made this recipe enough times that she moves automatically, measuring flour and cracking eggs without so much as a second thought. Keeping her hands busy is good. If she moves, she can’t think. Thinking will only make her cry, and she can’t cry. M’gann doesn’t have that right, especially not today.

Conner, Kaldur, Zatanna, Raquel and her are all in agreement that today, their attention will be on Artemis. Though the former archer puts up a brave front for the sake of the team and keeping things more or less normal, today will be different. Each of them will take turns looking out for her, ensuring that someone is with her at all times. It’s the very least they can do.

As M’gann folds the batter together, her mind turns to Dick. None of them have heard from him since he handed off the team to Kaldur and Barbara. Conner tried visiting his apartment. Artemis texted and called until his phone died. Kaldur persuaded Zatanna to try a locator spell, if only to ensure that their friend was alive. After a few weeks, Artemis informed them that he texted her back.

I’m fine.

Two words. Two words that scream how not-fine he is, but enough to keep them away for a little while longer.

M’gann tastes the batter and crinkles her nose. Something is still missing. She doesn’t have time to mess up another batch, she needs these to come out right. For Wally.

She stares down the batter, pressing her mouth to the side as she thinks. “I put in eggs, the flour, the cream of tartar… what am I missing?” M’gann dips the wooden spoon in the bowl, taking out a piece of soft dough to taste.

Then it hits her. She forgot the sugar.

“Hello, Megan,” M’gann laughs to herself, shaking her head as she grabs the sugar from a nearby cupboard. No wonder the dough doesn’t taste sweet.

“Not as sweet as you, Sugar.”

The bag of sugar drops from her hands and crashes on the floor, spilling everywhere. M’gann takes a shaky breath and grasps the counter until her knuckles go pale, trying to keep the tears from coming to her eyes. She can’t. No. Today’s not her day, she doesn’t get to do this.

Try as she might to regain composure, it’s too late. Every memory, good and bad, resurrect from the back of her mind and start playing without mercy. Wally’s shameless attempts at flirting. All the trays of cookies he’d scarfed down single handedly. The terrible jokes, and the funny ones too.

M’gann slides down until she hits the floor, fighting hard to keep from crying. They’d lost before. Tula. Artemis, even if it was brief. The loss of Wally hits differently. They studied for their exams together. Every recipe she tried, he’d always volunteer to be her taste tester. Good or bad, he’d eat it enthusiastically and ensured that she knew how much she enjoyed it. He was her friend.

Wally always seemed untouchable, like he could survive anything with a smile on his face. Even now, she expects him to just dash into the room and claim that it was all some horrible joke. They’d forgive him, just like they always had before.

Her phone beeps. M’gann sniffles and wipes her eyes before picking it out of her pocket. There’s a text from Kaldur, letting her know that he’ll pick her up in an hour. She sets the phone down and lets out a shaky breath. Maybe five minutes on the floor won’t hurt. She’ll allow herself five minutes, and then she’ll pick herself back up, put on a brave face, and finish baking the cookies.

And she does just that.

Palo Alto August 13th, 15:29 PST

“For the last time, Mom, I don’t need help.” Artemis holds her phone to her ear with her shoulder and tapes up another box. “By the time you’d get here, I’ll be done.”

When the box is taped shut, Artemis pushes it towards the door. This is the last room she has to pack up. One more room, and she’s free. She sets up another empty box and begins to pack up what remains of her closet.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come home? I made up your bed for you.”

Artemis nods, clearing her throat just enough so that she can answer. “I’m sure.” She can’t go home. Paula would see through her in an instant. “What, you don’t trust Jade?” she tries to joke, but the tone comes off wrong. Halfhearted.

Retreating to her sister’s new home is barely a step up from retreating to her mother’s. At least there, her friends won’t drop by unannounced. She’ll have something to do. A toddler to distract her from the heaviness that weighs her down. When Jade suggested it, she couldn’t say yes fast enough. At this point, change is welcomed. Anything to get her out of this house.

“I have to finish packing, Mom. I’ll text you tomorrow.”

Before Paula can add anything else, Artemis hangs up the phone. She knows what would have come next. Pity. Concern for her wellbeing. While she appreciates the concern and she knows everyone is only trying to look out for her, she doesn’t want to hear it anymore. What she wants is to move on.

Artemis is better than she was two months ago. Wally appeared everywhere to her. She saw him in their kitchen. She heard him, singing in the shower. Brucely would whine by the door for hours, waiting for him. Finally, she gave up and camped out at Zatanna’s, if only to keep from completely shutting down.

A month ago, she officially rejoined the team. Artemis couldn’t sit still and feel sorry for herself anymore. She had to do something. Punch something. Make someone feel even an ounce of the pain that she felt every day that Wally wasn’t with her.

The rage subsided. So did the pain. Artemis knows how to tuck it away for a few hours, bury it deep under team duties, coffee dates with M’gann and Zatanna, and babysitting her niece. She grows numb. Hollow. Anything is better than feeling that pain again.

Artemis makes quick work of her closet and tapes up the remainder of her possessions in the last box. She’s glad that she only has to worry about her things. Wally’s family had helped clear out most of his belongings shortly after the memorial.

She hoists up the box and carries it out to the living room, where a stack of boxes already sits by the door. Half of them will be going to storage. She doesn’t want to impose on her sister and brother-in-law. Not after they volunteered to house her and her dog.

Speaking of her dog, Artemis notices that it’s awfully quiet. She’s used to quiet by now, but with Brucely, it isn’t always a good thing. A small smile ghosts her lips. One time, upon leaving him alone for less than ten minutes, her and Wally had found the dog neck-deep in a massive bag of cereal. They’d stayed up all night, watching their dog upchuck Lucky Charms and vowing to keep a better handle on where they kept their food.

Even though it’s a happy memory, it leaves a bitter taste in Artemis’ mouth. Wally would want her to be happy. He’d want her to remember the good times, and use them to find her strength and move on. Maybe one day, she will. One day, when she isn’t angry, or hurt, or numb.

“Brucely?” she calls out, whistling short-after. No response. That’s never a good sign. “Come on, Boy. We can go on one last walk before we have to go.” Still nothing. He must be up to something, Brucely always comes out running when she so much as mentions the word ‘walk’.

Artemis checks the bathroom. Not there. The kitchen is empty. So is her bedroom. She keeps calling his name, but Brucely remains hidden. Finally, after a solid ten minutes of looking, she finds him inside a closet, lying down pitifully.

“There you are,” she sighs in relief, bending down to pet him. “What’s the matter, don’t you want to go live with Jade?”

The dog stares up at her, reflecting her own feelings in his sad brown eyes. Artemis laughs and sits next to him. “Yeah, me neither. But you’ll like it there. Lian will love you. Roy will probably give you extra treats. And Jade…” she bites her lip. “Jade will get over it.”

Brucely huffs, making himself more comfortable on the floor. Artemis notices that he’s guarding something behind him. “What’cha got there, buddy?” she asks, peering closer to look. Behind Brucely is a box. Seems like she missed something.

Artemis carefully moves her dog and takes the small box into her palms. It’s not one of her boxes. Judging by the torn edges and the crumpled, smush state of it, the box is one of Wally’s. Taking a deep breath, she opens it.

Wally and her talked about marriage. They both knew it was an inevitability, but had decided to wait until after college. Wally wanted a huge party, with everyone on the Team and the League invited. Loud music. A massive cake. The whole five yard. Artemis was never really the type of girl to plan out her wedding, so she went along with his ideas, if only because she liked seeing how excited he got about everything.

Now she wishes they hadn’t waited. She wishes that they’d run away, eloped, made the most of their short amount of time together before it was too late. Maybe things would have been different. Maybe he’d still be alive and here with her.

He isn’t though. And now Artemis sits on the floor, holding a ring that was supposed to be hers. All the stitches keeping her together tear apart at the sight of this one little ring.

Brucely whines and sidles up to her before placing his head in her lap. His drool ruins her pants, but she doesn’t care. Artemis leans forward and hugs him, doing her best not to cry, fighting hard to keep away the thoughts of what might have been.

Poseidonis October 30th, 8:19 UTC-2

Of all the strange holidays Kaldur has experienced on the surface world, none confuses him more than Halloween. He isn’t too much a fan of sweets. And the custom of knocking on strangers’ doors, begging for candy baffles him to no end. His team members tried to explain it to him on several occasions, but clearly the holiday is beyond his understanding.

He prefers to spend the holiday back home, visiting his parents, his old friends. Kaldur always found it a better use of his time than partaking in the festivities; he only had so many opportunities to return home, and this was one he always allowed himself to have.

This year, however, is different. Artemis texted him and asked him to join her and Will for his daughter’s first Halloween. At least, the first one they were both there for. He’d tried to decline, but her and Will both sent him a mass of text messages full of pictures from the pouting toddler, and really, what choice did he have? Kaldur has a difficult time denying Artemis much of anything, these days.

As a result, Kaldur plans his trip home a day earlier. For a brief moment, he considers skipping it entirely. Then he remembers his parents, and decides he’s hurt them enough for one lifetime. So, like the good son he is, he returns home and lets his mother shower him with affection. Cal asks him a plethora of questions about how things have changed on the surface world, and Kaldur dutifully answers every single one. When it comes time to leave, he tries his best not to think too hard about how tight his mother hugs him.

Upon leaving his parents, he ponders visiting Queen Mera, and her son. It has been ages since he’s seen little Artur. Kaldur still remembers holding the baby, only a few days after his birth. Artur must be so much bigger now, and the thought puts a smile on his face.

Just as he’s about to head in that direction, Kaldur stops himself. He probably won’t be welcome there. King Orin and him are on good terms, but that doesn't mean he has forgiven him enough to let him near his family. “No,” he muses to himself, “perhaps not today.”

So instead, he swims in the direction of the Zeta tube, keeping his gaze straight ahead. If he just focuses on reaching his destination, he won’t see the Atlanteans who stare at him, and whisper. He won’t hear the vicious words they mutter under his breath, calling him a traitor, the bastard of Black Manta, and worse. Kaldur doesn’t mind it too much. It’s all deserved. The people have every right to feel this way. He was surprised so many had forgiven him as quickly as they had.

“Kaldur, is that you?”

He stops swimming and turns around. It’s Garth. Next to him is a man he remembers seeing, but doesn’t recognize immediately. “Old friend,” he greets, holding out his hand. Garth hesitates, just for a moment, and then grabs his wrist in the usual greeting. Kaldur does his best not to let it get to him.

“I didn’t expect to see you. Are you heading back?”

“Yes, I’m afraid so.”

“That’s too bad,” Garth says, letting go of Kaldur’s wrist. “It would have been nice if you could join us.”

“Us?”

“My apologies, I haven’t introduced my friend. Kaldur, this is Wyynde. He was in our class, back at the Conservatory.”

Kaldur turns his attention to Wyynde. Ah, now he recognizes him. Wyynde, the purist. “You were with Oceanmaster,” he blurts before he realizes. No sooner does he say it does his face flush with embarrassment. “I… what I meant was—”

Wyynde gives Kaldur a wry smile. “And you were with Black Manta. But hopefully, those collaborations will remain in the past. Now I am on King Orin’s guard.”

“I see.” Kaldur clears his throat, attempting and failing to hide his embarrassment. “I apologize if I was rude.”

Wyynde waves away Kaldur’s concerns with a lighthearted chuckle. “Not at all. I appreciate the candor.”

Kaldur’s face is still warm, but he knows well enough that it isn’t from embarrassment. He hasn’t felt like this in a long time. Not since… “Well, I must take my leave. I have urgent matters to attend to back on the surface world.”

Helping his friends wrestle a stubborn toddler into a polyester costume and tote her around to collect candy she won't eat. An urgent matter indeed.

Garth rests a hand on Kaldur’s shoulder. “Are you positive you cannot find time to accompany us? It’s been so long since I’ve seen you.”

“I do not wish to intrude,” Kaldur makes up quickly. “You and Wyynde must be quite busy.”

“Nonsense! I have heard so many stories about the famed Aqualad. I would be honored if you accompanied us.”

It’s on the tip of Kaldur’s tongue to say no. He should say no. There’s nothing he can gain from getting close to either of them.

“Dude, you can’t be hung up on Tula forever. There’s plenty of fish in the sea. Uh, and by that I mean Atlanteans. Not like, actual fish. Please don’t fall in love with an actual fish.”

The memory is so deep, Kaldur almost can’t believe he recalls it. It’s been a little while since he’s thought about his fallen friend. There was so much to do back then, he packed his feelings about the matter and set them aside, to be handled at a later time.

Still, as much as it hurts him to remember, there must be a reason he hears Wally’s voice inside his head. Wally had always been unsympathetic towards his misfortune with Tula. On countless occasions, he’d tried setting him up on a number of unsuccessful blind dates. None of his tactics had worked, but Kaldur appreciated the attempt.

If Wally were here, he’d tell him to go. There can be no other reason why the memory had surfaced. Staying behind, even for a few more hours, would be the very least he could do for him.

“Well…” Kaldur smiles, then nods. “I suppose just a little while will not hurt.”

Watchtower November 11th, 00:01 EDT

Dick sits in front of Wally’s hologram, cross legged. He’d never missed his friend’s birthday before. Grief be damned, he isn't keen on starting now. His heart is heavy. None of his friends even know that he’s here. He hasn't talked to anyone, really talked to anyone, in months.

After Wally ceased, he needed time. Running the team, the team he, Wally and Kaldur had started, didn't feel right. So he left. He came back for the memorial, and to officially hand the team back to Kaldur, but after that, he officially disappeared. He’s done with teams. At least, for the time being.

He never pictured living his life without Wally by his side. Through thick and thin, they’d been there for each other. They’d fought together, and laughed together. It doesn’t feel right to go on living without him.

But life moves on. Dick distracts himself from his feelings by diving headfirst into detective work, letting the late nights and constant travel take away from the unresolved pain. He watches his friends move on with their lives. Kaldur accepts the role of Aquaman, and M’gann is appointed as team leader. Conner still helps with the team, and Artemis enrolls in a Masters program and spends her free time babysitting her niece. Everyone moves on, together.

All except him.

To give them credit, everyone tried to look out for him. Texts. Calls. Surprise visits when they knew he was home. Barbara comes over more often than she needs to, and even though he isn’t always mentally present, he’s grateful. Still, he keeps everyone at a distance. He just prefers to process things on his own. It’s nothing personal.

Wally’s hologram judges him from above. Dick lets out a shaky breath, looking up at his former friend. “I know,” he sighs. “I’m an asshole.”

From his backpack, Dick pulls out an assortment of chips, every ridiculous flavor he could get his hands on. Wally liked trying the different flavors. Somewhere on his computer, he kept a masterlist of every one he’s tried, and their rankings. “You won’t believe which flavors I found this time. Fried chicken flavored potato chips. Can you believe it? They don’t taste bad, but they’d definitely score low on your yum-o-meter,” he tries to tease. His voice comes off thick.

Dick sets the chips down, his hands shaking. “I miss you, Wall. I know I haven’t really shown it. I know I’ve been an awful friend, an awful person… but what did you expect? You and me, we were supposed to go down together.” He balls his fists, looking down.

The hologram doesn’t respond. Doesn’t move. Just stares ahead, with that same, dorky smile.

After a few minutes, Dick stands up and slings his backpack over his shoulders. This isn't helping. He did his diligence, he visited, he kept the tradition. But right now, it hurts too much to be here.

“Happy Birthday, Wally,” he mutters, before leaving the hologram behind for good.

#young justice #yj #dick grayson #artemis crock #wally west #m'gann m'orzz #conner kent #kaldur #wyynde #I know this isn't the greatest but #I don't care #it's been forever since I wrote YJ #deal w it

79 notes · View notes

jtsfavslut · 4 years ago

Text

Stages [5/6]

Description: In which a girl goes through six stages to realize and accept the fact that her marriage is going downhill.

Stage Three: Depression

- Stages 1

- Stages 2

- Stages 3

- Stages 4

Description: Yeimy finally has a conversation with Grayson, and comes to terms with herself that she had been putting off for a while. But what happens when she finally realizes everything is over?

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2.1k+

Work was something that was keeping you distracted from what was currently happening in your life.

You were able to clock in and out whenever you wanted, but being in the office made you forget all of your problems.

You knew avoiding your feelings and problems was wrong, but you weren’t ready to come on terms with yourself or reality at that.

The sound of your phone’s notification made you stop writing an article you were working on about fashion business etc.

Grayson Bailey :/

Meet me in my office at 6, please :(

You stared at it for a couple of minutes, debating whether or not you should go, or ignore him.

Me:

Kay.

That was your response. A dry ‘kay’. You knew it annoyed him when people responded to him with that. Something about him feeling ignored, but you didn’t care. Not anymore.

The sounds of ‘Summertime Sadness’ by Lana Del Rey, were blasting through your Jeeps speaker as you awfully sang along, meaning every word of it. (I was listening to this while writing this and all I can think about is the vine with the chicken wearing the red dress.)

“What is it, Dolan? Don’t waste my time,” you said walking inside his office his eyes scanning over your small Robbie wrap dress (this is the reference cuz I suck at describing) you were wearing along with your docs.

“Yeah, umm-” he said, clearing his throat and taking his eyes off your body. “I signed the papers,” he softly said, handing you the folder you had given him a few days ago.

“Thanks,” you awkwardly said as your hand accidentally touched his while grabbing the folder.

“Can we talk, Yeimy I-” he began saying before you cut him off.

“There’s nothing to talk about Bailey, you banged my friend that’s it,” you sighed, getting up from your chair as your patience started to die down.

“Yes, there is. There is Yeimy. There’s my side of the story,” he said making you roll your eyes.

“You have ten minutes Grayson, ten minutes,” you said looking at the overly priced Rolex he gifted you for your One Year Wedding Anniversary.

“Okay. Thanks,” he said and let out a sigh before he opened his mouth to speak again.

“I know nothing justifies what I did. At all” he said and you nodded your head taking a seat once again. “I don’t know why I did it. I don’t even remember how it started if I'm being honest. All I know is that it was really dumb of me, and that caused me to lose you, the only one that cared and loved me when no one else did,” he said and your eyes started to water as you tried your hardest to stop them from falling.

“And she doesn’t compare to you. She doesn’t in any way. You’re better than her in every single way. God, you hated when I bought you stuff, saying how you didn’t want or need my money while all she wanted was things. And I was dumb, so fucking dumb Marie,” he said calling you by your middle name causing a tear to stream down your face.

“Grayson-” you began saying before he cut you off.

“No, Yeimy let me finish. I know you don’t believe or trust me anymore but trust me that when I tell you that I love you is because I do. I love you with all my fucking life, and I never meant to hurt you. I never did. So I signed the papers. I signed the papers because that’s what you want and what you need.” he said and you looked up to him crying with red watery eyes and a frown.

“You were, and still are the reason why I’m here because you supported us-no me, you supported and stood by me when everything was going downhill, and you helped us bring the company back up. You stayed awake with me every night thinking of ways to attract business, thinking of new products, making ads, and articles, scheduling interviews and doing interviews just to help me and E,” he said. Remembering the many nights you and him stayed awake when Wakeheart wasn’t having a good time with the business. You did everything in your power to help bring the business back up, you promised him you would. And you did, in just a couple of months, Wakeheart’s sell rates were through the roof, just because of you.

“I did it because I loved you. And I still love you,” you sighed, carefully wiping tears away, even if they were gonna continue to fall.

“I don’t know what was going through your fucking mind Bailey, but at least you came to your senses now. Even if it’s too fucking late,” you said with a little laugh causing him to smile.

“Grayson I’m always going to love you, but you hurt me. You hurt me in the way I was most scared to get hurt in. I’m a firm believer that once you love someone and it’s real, your love for them will never go away, you just have to find someone who you’ll love even more.” you said as he watched you with a pained smile on his face.

“I don’t think there’s someone who I’ll love more than you,” he whispered and you nodded your head.

“Me too Bailey, me too, but I don’t trust you anymore and I can’t be in a relationship with you pretending I trust you when I don’t. Just because you hurt me doesn’t mean I need to hurt you,” you sighed. “Time will hurt and time will heal, it’s just a matter of patience and right now I’m running out of patience so I’m gonna go,” you sighed standing up before you fully broke down in front of him.

“Just remember that we’re still married by the church so thank the Catholic church for that,” you laughed causing him to chuckle.

“Why are you always funny, like it’s the worst time of my life and you’re making me laugh,” he asked while shaking his head with a smile on his face.

“I’m a funny person Dolan. And plus you only live once so why waste my time being mad, plus I know I’m gonna be depressed later so YOLO,” you said with a peace sign a goofy smile on your face hiding away your crumbling heart.

“YOLO,” he whispered, shaking his head.

“Take care of yourself, Grayson, I wish you the best,” you said walking to the door.

“You too Yeimy, I hope everything works out at Vogue,” he said and you nodded your head before walking outside and closing his door.

Hot mascara filled tears streamed down your face as you walked through the building and to your car.

Once you got inside your car, you let out a loud sob as you slammed your hands on the steering wheel.

The realization just kicking in. It was done. Everything was done, you were no longer married to the love of your life, as you drove away, you drove away from the love of your life.

“BUT I CRUMBLE COMPLETELY WHEN YOU CRY,” you shouted at the top of your lungs, singing along to 505 by Arctic Monkeys, your glasses hiding away your raccoon eyes caused by your ‘waterproof’ mascara which clearly lied.

You pulled up to the beach with the same song on repeat, something about it makes you feel slightly better.

You got out the driver's seat and sat on your trunk looking at the ocean.

Letting out a sigh that everything was over. Not everything just your marriage. Because when you told him, that you were always going to leave and no one else would compare, you were admitting it to yourself as well.

Grayson always made you happy, just knowing you were in the same room as he made you smile. Grayson was, and will always be your everything when it comes to relationships and dating. He was your rock, the one who took care of you when you were sick, even when you thought you didn’t need anyone. He stole your heart the first second you watched one of their videos when you applied for the internship. He and Ethan were one of the nicest men and human beings you ever met, and when he would flirt with you, you’d blush like a psycho.

Everything about him was so perfect, and your life with him was so perfect until he had to go fuck it up.

But you didn’t blame him for all of it. Ambar had something to do with it too. She was supposed to be your friend, hell you were the one that made Grayson give her the job. You vented to her about how you thought he was cheating on you, just for her to be the one he was doing it with.

You laughed at the thought of Ethan and Karina telling you she had bad vibes but you just pushed them away. Every time they told you that she did the same thing you did just two days after. If you got a new purse she would buy it the day later, a new dress? She was wearing it two days later. And when you would tell them about the things Grayson bought you, that you told him you didn't need, Karina would tell you about her angered facial expression and you would just tell her to chill.

You thought it was sad and funny that you realized that she was trying to be like you in every way possible this late. You just thought she was inspired by you, but she wasn’t. Deep down in Ambar’s heart, she hated you. She hated how you always seemed happy. Hated how the way you would talk about Grayson made him seem like there was no other girl in his eyes that was as pretty as you. She hated how you were always a good person. Hated how you would help anyone, even if they weren’t the nicest to you. And she hated how simple you were. She knew Grayson would give you the world if you asked for it, and she hated how you didn’t take advantage of it.

So she tried to ruin your life. Her jealousy got the best of her and she knew that by taking away the thing you love the most, it would balance out the universe and make you suffer. But she was wrong, because by trying to hurt you and being successful at that may I add, she lost a true friend, her job, her other friends. She lost everything leaving her even more miserable.

But she got what she wanted. Because now you were sad and heartbroken. Your life is missing a big piece of it.

You cried for three weeks straight. Every day before, between, and after work. You cried every day. Cried because you missed him. Because you missed home.

You missed being around him. Waking up in his arms. His forehead kisses. You missed waking up to him blasting Lil Wayne in the morning when he went to work out in the basement. You missed joining his workouts for less than five minutes because it was too much for you. You missed hearing his loud voice. You missed his laugh. His jokes. His un-funny jokes that you would still laugh at because it was funny he tried. You missed him trying to speak Spanish. You missed the flights to Jersey and sleeping in the laundry room because he wanted his alone time with you. You missed the car rides with him that were filled with music. You missed falling asleep on his chest. Trying out his new recipes that were sometimes a fail. Making cookies or just baking with him in general. Going to restaurants with him. You missed him teasing you about the way you were moaning from his touch. You missed the way he made you feel when he was fucking all the knowledge out of you. You missed laying in bed with him.

You missed him.

It’s been almost a month since you last saw him and you were feeling as if you were going through withdrawals.

Withdrawals because she took your drug away. Because the universe took your drug away.

Withdrawals because he was your drug.

Grayson was your drug.

Stages 6

Tags: @angelgrayson @rhyrhy462 @333dolans @vinylhazza @foxglovedolan @dolanissues @mercurygrant @persistence-ofmemories @dolansficsandpics @blindedbythelightt @kinkygrays @pineappledols @the-evolution-of-stupidity @evergreendolan @beatement-l @graydolan12

#Stages #Grayson Stages #grayson #grayson bailey #graysonbailey #grayson dolan #grayson dolan imagine #grayson x reader #grayson blurb #ethan dolan #Ethangrant #ethan dolan imagine #ethan dolan x reader #ethan dolan blurb #dolan #dolan twins #dolan fandom

57 notes · View notes

unreachablevoice · 5 years ago

Text

Oh, How I Wish

A Daminette Songfic based on “Heather” by Conan Gray

Hope you enjoy~!

Warning: Swearing and cuss words are present. Please read with caution, thank you!

When Damian first met her, he already knew something was bound to happen; something big and devastating. But he wasn't really sure what it was, so he tried not to think too much about it.

Turns out, that was the wrong move to make. Damian shouldn’t have brushed it off just because he wasn’t sure what it was. He should’ve braced himself, braced for the impact heading his way. Braced for the impact of his feelings for her.

There were even signs already, signs that tried to warn him, signs that he didn’t see because he was too blind. Or maybe it was more fitting to say that he was blinded by her. She blinded him with her radiance that it left him defenseless and vulnerable with almost everything.

Damian lets out a scoff and shakes his head in disbelief. Who would’ve thought that the Demon Spawn, dubbed by his brothers, Damian Wayne, would fall in love with one Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

A sharp knock shook him out of his thoughts and his door opens.

“Hey, Damian.” Drake's head pops out of the small crack of his door.

“Is there something wrong, Drake?” Damian raises a brow at him. Drake never deliberately comes to him for something, since they were always out for each other's necks ever since he first came to his father. So why was he here?

“Nah, just wanted to see if you’d like to listen to this.” he throws an audio player with a pair of headphones to him, which Damian easily caught.

He looks at the device and back to his slightly older brother with a slight question in his jade eyes.

“Just thought you’d enjoy it.” Drake shrugs his shoulder and immediately disappears and closes his door with a resounding click, leaving him alone to tamper with the small device.

With a profound sigh, Damian puts on the earpieces and presses play. Not like he has anything better to do anyway.

The soft plays of piano keys and guitar chords hit his ears as the song starts.

I still remember,

Third of December.

Me in your sweater,

You said it looked better

On me, than it did you.

Damian was vaguely reminded of the time where Marinette had made him a sweater for the sole purpose of friendship. How funny that this song was just like that. And if he were to be honest, that time was actually the start of the spark that ignited his flame for her.

Only if you knew

How much I liked you.

But I watch your eyes as she

Walks by.

What a sight for

Sore eyes.

He remembers when he finally understood what he really felt towards Marinette, how he really viewed their relationship. Only for her to come running to him, saying stuff about how she wanted him to meet someone, meet someone she treasures so much.

Damian was terrified to say that something inside him broke a little.

Brighter than a

Blue sky.

She's got you

Mesmerized,

While I die.

Marinette had coming running to him with a guy on tow. A green-eyed blonde who he distinctly remembers as that model from the billboards around Paris who, honestly, had weird poses.

“Damian, this is Adrien!” her hands waving over to the male. And he remembers how when she had introduced the blonde, her face was split into a wide grin. A smile so wide and so dazzling that it made his already poor attempt of a smile falter.

Marinette looked like she was complete. And that left an ugly taste in Damian's mouth.

Why would you ever kiss me?

I'm not even half as pretty.

You gave her your sweater,

It's just polyester, but you like her better.

At the words of the song, Damian recalls another time when Marinette had given him a chaste kiss. It was so soft and gentle that Damian was almost afraid that he was just dreaming. The warmth being the only thing that reminded him that he was, in fact, in total bliss and that it was true.

As they slowly moved away from each other, he was met with a flushed face that’s sporting beautiful bluebell eyes that looked at his own eyes while holding the same love he had.

After a while, Marinette returns back to that Agreste guy’s side while giggling. And only then, did he remember: Right. This was just a game. They were only playing a game that’s why Marinette had agreed to kiss him. How foolish of him to think that she did it out of love when she already had someone.

He sat back down while listening to the others continue their ridiculous game. That ridiculous game that gave him false hope for a few seconds that felt like eternity at that time.

…Wish I were Heather.

The whispered words snap him out of his stupor and made him abruptly pause the song and take the headphones off his head. A shocked look on his face as he stares at the audio device.

Does he really think that way? Does he really…?

Damian closes his fists and strongly grips at the device that it made it’s hard sides poke at his palms. With a shake of his head, he tucks his face into his hands and sighs.

“How despicable.”

————————

Damian is seated at a Karaoke Booth with the very same girl he is in love with, the same blonde Agreste she introduced, his brothers, and some other people/friends right now. And why, you ask? Well, that’s because he was dragged by his Marinette. Saying how he needs to act more his age. So, what better way to do that than to join them on their shenanigans and tomfoolery while singing cliché songs in a room?

“How fun...” he grumbles particularly to no one while rolling his eyes.

“Yo, demon Brat! It’s your turn!” Jason calls out to him and throws him the microphone, which landed surprisingly into his hands.

“I refuse to—” he makes the mistake of looking at Marinette and sees her equally looking back at him while sporting a pleading look on her pretty face. Wrong move.

Shit! Now, he has to do this unless he wants to make her look sullen!

Letting out a sigh, he stands up and goes over to the makeshift stage in the room, which made the room erupt into cheers. “All right. Any requests?” he asks as his eyes roam around the room.

“I got one!” Drake raises his hand while skimming the song book and pressing the buttons on the remote. “I know you know this song, so I’ll just punch in the numbers for you.” he looks back at Damian and stares at him intently, something about that look in his eyes irked him.

Just as Damian was about to ask, a familiar beat blasts on the speakers and the same piano keys and guitar chords resonate around the room. His eyes snap back to meet Drake’s and he sees that his eyes were still holding that look.

‘Tell her,’ he mouths over to him. And in that moment, Damian knew that this was Drake’s way of helping him. Even if it was pointless since they both knew Marinette could never return what he feels towards her because the Agreste kid was there.

Damian frowns at his brother and looks at the screen as the lyrics begin to show.

“Watch as she stands with

“Her holding your hand.”

As he sang the words of the song, Damian couldn’t help but look back at the ravenette and the blonde beside her.

Agreste was leaning over to her and whispering something in her ear that made her blush a pretty color and slap his shoulder while giggling. Giggling like they had no care for the world and it’s just the two of them. Something about that made Damian’s insides churn.

“Put your arm 'round her shoulder,

“Now I'm getting colder.”

His jade eyes catch sight of the Agreste guy’s hand on Marinette’s petite shoulder as they both laugh at something Grayson said. An icy pang pricks at his chest and his grip on the microphone hardens. Funny how they were both doing what the song said without even knowing it.

“But how could I hate her?

“She's such an angel,

“But then again, kinda

“Wish she were dead, as she Walks by.

“What a sight for

“Sore eyes.”

Marinette looks over to him and smiles prettily, a dust of red in her cheeks as her pearly whites show. Oh, how he wishes that meant something more.

Her lovely mouth opens into an ‘O’ and she whoops at him, cheering him on as he continues to sing the obnoxiously cliché song that accurately describes the plight he was in. How annoying that it felt like the song was jeering at him, making fun of his crisis. And how aching it was with how correct it is.

“Brighter than a

“Blue sky.

“She's got you

“Mesmerized,

“While I die.”

Damian looks back at the green-eyed blonde beside Marinette and scowls. How is it that he gets to be so lucky? That he gets to have the only thing that he has ever wanted so strongly his whole life? And he can’t even see it. Can’t even see the pain that he feels whenever he looks at the two of them, looks at him as he smiles without knowing that the world was in his hands. That Damian’s whole world was in his arms.

Feeling a lump on his throat, he looks away from the couple and back at the screen as he tries to swallow down the ugly feeling in his chest.

‘How despicable indeed.’

“Why would you ever kiss me?

“I'm not even half as pretty.

“You gave her your sweater,

“It's just polyester, but you like her better.

“I wish I were Heather!”

As he belts out the lyrics, Damian’s eyes briefly catch Drakes’ again. A pitying look on his face as his head jerks over to Marinette, as if prompting him to talk to her while singing. What? No, why is he looking at him like that? He doesn’t need pity. He's fine. At least that’s what he tells himself.

“Ohhh,

“Wish I were Heather,

“Ohhh,

“Ohhhh,

“Wish I were Heather...”

As soon as the song comes to an end, Damian drops the mic and gets down the makeshift stage. Ignoring all of the cheers and shocked looks on the people’s faces (Yes, he can sing, you dolts! And he’s a pretty good singer if he does say so himself!) as he continues to trudge over to his seat and grab his bag.

“Damian? Where are you going?” he doesn’t even notice Marinette standing next to him, only after he feels her hand on his shoulder and hears the uncanny tone in her voice.

His eyes reluctantly meet hers and something inside him falls apart with the way she looks at him, “I’m leaving,” he sullenly says as he moves away and out to the door, not even giving her the chance to reply.

As soon as Damian was out, he wastes no time to find his car, and once he did, he grumbly goes inside and drives away and finally lets out the shuddering breath he didn’t even knew he held.

Thinking that the silence was deafening, he opens his radio and listens as the DJ announces that someone had requested to play a particular song to tell the world of his unrequited love and plays a familiar tune.

Okay, what is with this song that it seems like it wants to follow him everywhere?

Damian groans and scowls at the road while just letting the song play, not having the heart to turn it off. It is pretty catchy anyway.

Why would you ever kiss me?

I'm not even half as pretty.

As the song continues to play, Damian's thoughts fly away. He briefly wonders if Marinette and Agreste have kissed alre—NO! Do not think about that! If he does, he might just go berserk and crash his car and worry people! Worry Marinette, most importantly!

You gave her your sweater,

It's just polyester, but you like her better.

He abruptly stops the car over to the side, so as to not disrupt the passing vehicles, and rests his head on the steering wheel, finally letting go of the pent-up negativity he held. Tears form at the corner of his eyes as he chokes out a sob at the thought of Marinette and that Agreste guy.

Damian imagines how both of their hearts must be as pure as their connection to one another, and that made his tears flow faster.

Wish I were...

As the beat of the song slowly dies down, Damian tunes out the DJ’s voice and some announcement he was talking about. His hands gripping even more tightly at the wheel that he was afraid he might just break it.

He ponders back to the last part of the song and the overall message it held, thinking how right it was.

Damian really does wish he was Adrien.

————————

You know this is actually not supposed to be the songfic that I was going to post. But then, when I was listening to some music while doing stuff, this came on. And I mean, ideas began to full-on ATTACK ME! So, what was I suppose to do?

Anyway, I am not sorry. I am completely, one HUNDRED PERCENT not going to apologize for that ending. And I’m sorry not sorry for not warning you of the (kinda) angsty plot :)

And if any of y’all are asking, no. I did not have any idea of why I chose Drak—oh my gosh I’m beginning to talk like Damian. Anywho, yeah I don’t know why Tim and Damian were being civilized in this. It was just spontaneous, I wrote it on the spot, I’m still not sorry, because what do you expect when a person who did not have a good night’s sleep writes in the morning when she’s basically still drowsy and half asleep?

Oh and also, this is actually one of the fastest fics I finished which is yay! Accomplishment! :D

P.S. I definitely recommend you listen to the song. It’s really beautiful and sad at the same time :)

And hello to those in the US who are still up even though it’s almost four in the morning! Please go to sleep!

Taglist:

@joejoejodee

@k-poplunardreams

@abrx2002

@thornalchemist23

@its-salty-bug

21 notes · View notes

shield-sheafson · 4 years ago

Link

Chapters: 3/? Fandom: Teen Titans (Comics), Teen Titans - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Raven/Tara Markov, past Tara Markov/Slade Wilson, Background Dick Grayson/Koriand'r Characters: Tara Markov, Raven (DCU), Donna Troy, Koriand'r (DCU), Slade Wilson Additional Tags: Fluff and Angst, Romance, Past Underage, Past Abuse, Flirting, Weddings, sexually charged lipstick application, Slade doesn’t show up in the present timeline he’s just in the flashbacks, Flashbacks Summary:

Even normal things feel like they’ve been ruined: it’s been years, but sometimes Tara feels like she’s still with Slade. As everybody prepares for Dick and Kory’s wedding, all kinds of miserable feelings begin bubbling up inside of her even as she tries to have fun. To add to the stress, Raven has been acting awfully cute lately…

—

“So what’s the dress situation here?” Tara asks casually. “Donna had bridesmaid dresses picked out by this time. Are you slacking?” To be perfectly fair, Tara had never worn the ruffly monstrosity Donna had given her. She’d been too busy wandering the streets as an amnesiac.

“Tamaranians usually do not have bridesmaids,” Kory says. She’s carefully weaving together circlets of dried flowers. She has a pile of completed ones in the middle of the dining room table. “Everybody participates, not just a few people. I can not pick out matching dresses for the entire Justice League.”

“Just let Gar take care of it.”

“Do you want Gar dressing you?” Kory asks, quirking an eyebrow.

“…Good call. You seem pretty calm about all this. Donna is going crazy.”

“Donna will relax in time. She seems to think I want an Earth wedding. With the DJ.”

“What do you want?”

“On Tamaran, we sing, we dance, and we burn things. That is all I want; it would be nice to have G'larbac feathers and a torba bowl, but I do not need them to be happy. Oh, and Dick is not allowed to speak.”

“…Nice.”

Kory puts down her flowers. “It is not as if I am not participating in the human traditions myself! He is not allowed to look at me and everybody will throw grain. We will do the bouquet and the garter. I respect humans!”

“It’s– I wasn’t saying you didn’t!” Tara isn’t ready to fight. “…Wait, who said you didn’t?”

“I know that it is selfish to want to bring Tamaran to Earth,” Kory says, looking down at the table. “I try to be respectful of human behavior, even when it makes me a little uncomfortable. I do not kiss on the lips to do greeting and I laugh at the sarcasm. But my wedding is special. Earth is my home now, but Tamaran is where I was born. I went to weddings when I was a little girl, and I played at them with my friends. I want to at least have a little of that here.” She keeps her chin high and proud, but there’s a hurt look in her eyes.

Tara isn’t sure what to say. She’s never been any good at comforting people; if anything, she usually makes things worse. Does Kory even need comfort right now? She just nods her head awkwardly.

“That’s fair,” she says. “I don’t think it’s selfish to miss where you grew up. I mean, it’s not like this is someone else’s wedding, so it’s nobody’s business how you do it, right?”

“But the guests will all be human. Dick’s father will be there.”

“He’s rich, he doesn’t care.”

“What does that have to do with…?”

“Shh. He’s rich.”

“I met him, he seemed to think…”

Tara leans forward and puts a finger on Kory’s lips. “Shh. Wealthy.”

Kory seems to accept.

—

“Fast or slow?” Gar asks, resting his chin on his hands and leaning over the table.

“Both,” Donna says.

“Song decade?”

“Well, Kory wants Tamaranian folk music, and Dick wants pop from the ‘70s, so multiple.”

“How many dances are we going to have? Parents’ dances, bridal party dances, anniversary dances?”

“This is complicated enough without all that stuff,” Vic says.

“Aww, embarrassed?” Tara asks. “Scared of the boogie man?”

“That’s lame,” Gar says. “Even I think that’s lame.”

“Kory’s parents can’t make the voyage,” Donna says. “And Dick’s father is single, so the parents’ dance might be awkward. I’m thinking we can arrange it so that Dick and Kory dance first. I’ll hire a choreographer. Then the brides’ and grooms’ parties can go, and then maybe the couple that’s been together the longest, so I’ll check the guest list and–”

Tara coughs. “That’s stupid,” she says, thinking back to her earlier conversation. “Maybe everyone can just dance.”

“She’s one of my best friends, and I want it to be perfect,” Donna says. “She and Dick have helped me so much all these years, so I want to help them back.”

“Still sounds like too much,” Vic says.

“Come on, it sounds fun!” Gar says. He punches Vic in the shoulder with a clanging noise. “We can teach you if you don’t know how.”

“I know how to dance,” Vic says, but his expression says more. He presses his lips tightly together.

“Okay,” Gar says, standing up. “Prove yourself.”

Tara snorts.

“You too,” Donna says, joining Gar. “If we make Vic do it, we all have to.”

Suddenly, it doesn’t seem as funny. While the idea of Vic being a bad dancer is amazing and wonderful, Tara isn’t able to dance either. She’s been coasting. This is karma.

“I’ll pair off with Vic, so it’s you and Gar,” Donna says, switching on the radio on the counter. It’s Lionel Richie.

“Is this okay?” Gar asks quietly as he takes her hand. “I’m not being weird, right?”

Tara rolls her eyes. “We’re not sixteen anymore. I think you’ve got your teen horniness under control.”

“Right.”

Off to the side, Donna and Vic are swaying awkwardly. He looks terrified.

“Okay, do you remember how to do a box step?” Gar asks, nervously resting his hand on Tara’s back.

“Yeah,” she says, even though she’s not sure what a box step is. She carefully mirrors his feet.

“You don’t remember,” Gar says. “Okay, put your right foot back.”

Which foot is the right foot? Tara makes a wild guess. Gar shakes his head sadly.

“Hey, Raven!” Donna calls. Tara looks over Gar’s shoulder and sees Raven shuffling sleepily into the kitchenette with messy hair and her blanket dragging behind her.

Raven looks up groggily. “What are you doing?” she asks.

“Dancing,” Gar says. “Vic’s low self-esteem is getting in the way of his social skills. Tara, you aren’t supposed–”

“Hey!” Vic interjects. “My self-esteem is fine!”

“Join the party!” Donna says. “I think we need to switch up anyway.”

Raven squints at her, takes the kettle off the stove, and pours some hot water into a mug.

“I’m going with Gar next,” Vic says, letting go of Donna and stepping off to the side. “Tara’s gonna be unpartnered.”

“But I’m right–” Donna begins.

“Unpartnered,” Vic repeats, looking meaningfully at Raven. Raven presses her lips together and looks away.

“This is stupid,” she says. “I’m not playing.” Tara feels a twinge of sympathy. She’s not entirely sure what’s going on, but Raven is embarrassed and Vic’s making it worse.

“Donna knows how to lead, right?” Tara asks. “Because I only know how to… The thing that isn’t leading.”

“I’d better know,” Donna says. “If I don’t know how to lead, then Kory’s going to be in trouble, because we’ve been practicing for weeks.”

Weird. Kory always struck Tara as the type who would lead in a dance. Maybe it’s just because she’s tall.

“Wait,” Raven says. “I’ll try.”

“Man, talk about wishy-washy,” Tara says, but Raven, with unprecedented confidence, steps up to her and grabs her hand.

“You’re wishy-washy,” Raven mumbles, resting her hand on Tara’s back (electricity shoots up her spine).

The music changes– something poppy and banal. Raven swallows and moves carefully, and Tara, somehow impressed by her determination, follows as well as she can.

It feels very different from dancing with Gar– when she was younger, Gar excited a kind of nervousness in her that he doesn’t now (even though it wasn’t really a good feeling, it was a tangible one). Being close to Raven is a whole new experience. From the slender fingers that clutch Tara’s hand to the light sway of Raven’s dark hair to the smell of bitter black tea that lingers over her, Tara is oddly entranced.

Step in one direction, reverse, reverse again. It should be so boring. Tara can feel her heart pounding against the inside of her chest, either faster or slower than it should be. She’s sure her hand is sweating.

“We’re going to turn in a circle now,” Raven says stiffly.

“Taking charge, I see. Yay,” Tara says, bracing herself to either step on Raven’s foot or be stepped on.

“You’re doing a good job!” Donna says. Vic shoots her a look just as Tara loses focus and stomps Raven’s slipper, throwing her off balance. They let go of each other, falling backwards a little.

Raven takes a deep breath and turns around. “Sorry!” she says, scurrying away before anybody else can interrupt.

After a few seconds of silence, Gar offers his opinion. “That was kinda weird.”

“Freaky,” Tara says, still catching her breath.

—

“Fashion, fashion,” Gar chants. He has one arm around Raven’s shoulder and one arm around Tara’s.

“It looks like you have a broken leg and we’re carrying you off the battlefield,” Raven says.

“He will have a broken leg if he doesn’t let go,” Tara says.

Gar lets go. “Can I still dress you up?”

“I’m not sure I could forgive you for doing something like that,” Raven says. “You can dress Tara.”

“Hey!”

The consignment store is a small brick building in a strip mall alongside a drugstore and a Vietnamese restaurant. It’s got a worn exterior and a variety of outdated clothes displayed in its streaky front window.

“Chic!” Announces the light-up sign by the glass door. A bell rings as they open it and the sleepy clerk looks up from her counter.

“Welco– oh!” Her droopy eyes widen when she sees Gar. “You’re one of the Titans, right?”

“Guilty as charged,” Gar says. “Any heroes’ discounts available?”

“No,” Raven says before the clerk can answer. “Let’s look at the books.”

“But you don’t even–”

Raven gently steers him away. Tara follows. She gives the clerk a little wave.

Gar stands around inattentively while Raven looks at something thick with a dusty cover.

“Wanna play the romance novel game?” Tara asks. “You look at the ones on display and you count how many man-nipples you can spot.”

“Cowboy,” Gar says, pointing. “Upper-left corner. Two nipples.”

“Kilt guy, bottom middle. One nipple– maybe one and a half.”

“What are you doing?” Raven asks.

“Nothing wrong,” Tara says. “Let’s go to the hats.”

They’re probably going to get lice, honestly. If they just let anybody try on all these cloches, then chances are somebody covered in bugs has tried them on at some point.

“Hey, Gar,” she says.

“Mm?” He looks up from below the brim of a rhinestone-encrusted cowboy hat.

“Do you get lice, or do you get fleas?”

Just as Raven opens her mouth to deliver a scolding, Gar says, “Both.”

“Let’s go somewhere else,” Raven says, gingerly lifting the hat from Gar’s head.

Tara and Gar feel their way through the menswear section (they pet the faux-fur lining of a large and intimidating coat). Gar’s eyes widen in excitement and he pulls out a shabby pink jacket with patches on the elbows. He ducks down and begins covertly putting it on.

“There are dressing rooms,” Raven says.

“I look like a professor,” Gar says, standing. His wrists poke out for a few inches and its bottom is well above his hips.

“Professor of being a bastard,” Tara says.

“It doesn’t fit,” Raven says. “Also, Tara, stop being awful.” Tara shrugs.

“I think it fits.” Gar stretches his arms, pushing his wrists out further. “I’m gonna buy it.”

“I can’t control you,” Raven says.

“You know, that’s a really healthy way to approach your relationships with others,” Gar says thoughtfully as he takes the jacket off. “Time to dress up Tara!” He slaps a hand on her shoulder.

“I never agreed to this! Ask Kory, she knows!” Tara looks pleadingly at Raven, who just blinks at her like a cat.

They make their death march to the women’s section, Gar in high spirits, Tara in poor spirits, and Raven in some sort of spirits. Tara drags behind, carefully examining every pointless thing she spots.

“Let’s get the Teen Bible,” she says. “I really want that plush dragon. Hey, we should…”

A silly, stupid thing. There’s a pair of high-heeled slippers in the discount shoe bin. The puffy feathers on the upper are clumped and ragged, and the color on the insole is worn down.

Tara stops dragging and walks a little faster.

—

A pair of pink mules with puffy faux feathers on the upper. Tara bought them for ten bucks at the costume store (she’d also kind of wanted a Reagan mask, but she had no excuse). She had an awkward, mincing walk when she tried them on. There was no strap around the back, so they were always on the verge of falling off.

They were another part of her grown-up costume. She practiced walking in them in circles around her room for two hours, and hid them carefully when Gar knocked on her door looking for his rubber lizard. She was determined to come off as mature that night.

“What do you think?” she’d asked, pointing to them proudly.

“You look cheap,” Slade said bluntly.

Her stomach plummeted.

“It suits you,” he said.

She laughed.

—

Gar is in the dressing room. He found a blouse, immediately labeled it as “bisexual” and scampered off. Tara is staring at a pair of overalls, twisting the buttons of the left strap again and again. She wants it to come loose, even though Raven will probably make her take responsibility and buy the whole thing.

“What are you doing?” Raven asks from behind her. Tara jumps.

“I’m ruining these overalls,” Tara says, turning to face her. “I’ve almost got the thread worn down, see?”

“No,” Raven says, taking them from her. “You suddenly got quiet and you’re making that face.”

“What face?”

“I know you, Tara.”

—

“I know you better than anyone. Don’t lie to me.” He cradled her face gently as he said it, but all she could think of was how close his hands were to her neck.

—

“No, you don’t,” Tara says, reaching to take the overalls back. “Stop acting like you can read my mind.”

Raven steps back, clutching them to her chest. “You’re upset,” she says.

“I’m not.” Tara’s voice cracks a little. “And even if I am, aren’t I allowed to be?”

Raven opens her mouth as if to say something, but she closes it again. She looks down at the overalls. The button is hanging down awkwardly. “You’re allowed to be upset,” she says. “But I hate it.”

Tara stretches her face into a sarcastic grin. “All better!” she says.

Raven hands back the overalls without making eye contact.

“Come in and have a look!” Gar calls.

#dc #teen titans #raeterra #me writing #tara markov #raven dc

4 notes · View notes

nhlbieber · 5 years ago

Text

you promise? // G.D.

“i’m hopping in the shower!” grayson yells as he runs past the bed you’re barely waking up in, and rushes into the bathroom. you check your phone for any notifications, thinking it’s probably about noon now, when you see it.

7:03 AM

you sleepily make your way to the bathroom where grayson is singing bulletproof by la rioux at the top of his lungs.

“grayson, honey, you realize what time it is right? and you remember what time i finally made it to bed after ethan and i finished the movie we were watching?” you ask calmly, trying now to explode on your harmless boyfriend.

“yeah, but- i’m meeting your parents today and i’m nervous. i just wanna be perfect for your sake; for our sake.” he explains as he lathers shampoo in his hair.

“babe, dinner isn’t for another 12 hours. we could’ve slept in today!” you whine.

“i know, and i’m sorry, i’m just so anxious love. why don’t you go back to sleep and i’ll lay in bed with you and watch something on the projector until you wake up.” he says, turning off the water and reaching for his towel.

“you promise?” you ask, feeling a little bad; you know it’s agony for grayson to lay in bed all day.

“i promise.” he says walking out of his closet, with just underwear in hand.

you fall back asleep in the arms of your muscular boyfriend and wake up three hours later to grayson laughing at whatever he chose to watch to occupy his time.

“what’s so funny?” you ask stirring around, startling him as he didn’t know you were awake.

“i’m watching chicken little.” he replies, not taking focus off of the screen.

“you are truly the love of my life.” you say through slight laughter, as you wiggle your way up his chest to be almost face level. he leans down to give you a kiss, pulling your body closer to his to get rid of any possible space between you. your sweet moment is ruined by an annoyed ethan bursting into graysons room.

“is breakfast ready yet? i’m fucking starving grayson!” he yells bursting into the room, and placing his hands on his hips.

“don’t you ever knock? what if y/n was naked, or something worse?” grayson yells at ethan, throwing a pillow at him.

“oh shit, sorry y/n. did i wake you up?” ethan’s tone changes when speaking to you.

“yes, actually. now you owe me breakfast.” you say, pretending as if you’re still half asleep.

“alright deal,” ethan walks over to shake your hand, “i already know what i’m getting us. i’ll be back!” he yells rushing out of the room.

“alright, i’m gonna shower,” you jump off of the bed and head to graysons bathroom, “i figured i’d get him out of the house so i can shower and change without having to worry about, well, that happening.” you nod your head toward his bedroom door.

“okay babe,” grayson replies, putting on a pair of sweats and heading to exit his room, “i’m gonna go clean the kitchen.” he blows you a kiss and heads out.

you walk out of the bathroom and towards the kitchen in your purple bathrobe and hair in a towel to see an açaí bowl on the kitchen counter with a sticky note on it.

sorry i bursted in on your and grays moment, i’m just a hungry growing boy /: love ya !

_______________________________

it gets to be about five o’clock, and you and ethan realize grayson never came back from “going to his room really quick.” you go into the room and find grayson taking his mid-day nap. it broke your heart to have to wake up the sleeping angel, but you two had to start getting ready. you lightly shake him and he stirs at your touch.

“baby, it’s five, we have to start getting ready.” you sit on the bed next to him and admire the sleepy-boy’s features.

“okay.” he replies softly, sitting up to stretch.

you head to the bathroom and start on your hair. since dinner was going to be at a casual setting, you decided to just put your hair in a high pony with a scrunchie. as you’re in the middle of baking your face, you hear a distressed grayson in his closet, cursing to himself under his breath.

“baby, are you okay?” you ask brushing off your bake, and turning to enter his closet, only to be faced with a sweaty grayson in dress pants and a button up.

“i just don’t feel like i look presentable enough for meeting your parents,” he replied, continuing to shuffle through the dress shirts in his closet, “do i look stupid?” he pauses his desperate search for another top.

“grayson, you look handsome as always, but we’re just going to get pizza. look what i’m wearing!” you step back so he can see your full body properly, revealing you wearing one of grayson’s crew necks as a dress and a pair of AF1’s.

“i’m just so nervous, i don’t want to look sloppy in front of your parents,” he admits, his expression looking defeated, “can you help me pick something to wear?” he shyly asks you. you step into his closet and take charge of dressing the poor, stressed out boy.

“there, you look perfect babe!” you step back and look at your masterpiece. you decided to dress him in a black t-shirt with a pair of blue/green plaid pants, and a pair of white high top converse (and of course his gucci lionhead belt).

“are you sure they aren’t going to make fun of my pants?” he asks, staring at himself in the mirror. you gently grab his face to make him look you in the eyes while you spoke to him.

“grayson, they won’t make fun of you, and if they do it’s their way of showing they like you, okay?” you go on your tip toes to kiss his nose.

“you promise?” he asks shyly, putting his hands on your waist to pull you closer, and places a sweet kiss on your lips.

“i promise.”

_______________________________

this is the fit i was describing btw <3

#grayson dolan #dolan twins #grayson dolan imagine #grayson dolan blurb #dolan twins imagine

101 notes · View notes

thepartyresponsible · 6 years ago

Text

here’s the first fic for inbox cleaning week! i’ve received a few separate prompts for deadpool and dc crossover fics, but i’ve never actually had any luck writing them. i think the problem is that i was trying to throw wade wilson at jason todd, and that’s a molotov cocktail, not a love story.

so here’s deadpool falling absolutely in love with dick grayson. it’s ridiculous and fluffy and shockingly low on violence.

Word comes through the various superhero backchannels that Batman’s got himself murdered again. Or kidnapped. Stolen, dimension-hopped, married. Whatever. The point is, the Dark Knight is brooding in a better place. Or a worse place. A different place, definitely. That much, Wade knows, is true.

A power vacuum in Gotham is never a good thing. The local villains go wild in Bat’s absence, and it’s not the fun kind of wild with foam parties and naked dancing and drunken mistakes. It’s the kind of wild with blood in the streets and monsters rising from the sewers and terrible deaths played out to the soundtrack of mad laughter.

That kind of thing spreads, is the problem. It’s infectious. What starts in Gotham will spread to New York, and Wade doesn’t wanna deal with Gotham bullshit in New York. He doesn’t want New York to feel like it has to one-up Gotham’s weirdness. New York is weird enough.

So Wade, a concerned good-hearted citizen, a real man of the people, swings by Gotham to check up on things.

He expects to see Robin, if he’s lucky. Or maybe Batgirl. Red Hood, if things get especially spicy.

The last he heard, Nightwing was over in Bludhaven, so he doesn’t expect to see him at all.

It’s hard to tell, honestly, if Wade would’ve been prepared to see him if he’d had some kind of warning. It is not at all hard to tell if he’s prepared to see him unexpectedly. The only hard thing is him. Specifically, it’s his dick. Immediately.

It’s not his fault. Nighwing comes back-flipping into a street brawl like he’s qualifying for the Russian women’s gymnastics team. He’s lean and muscular and beautiful, wearing something blessedly skintight, and Wade thinks the entire world stops on its axis, stretches out time, just so he can stare, open-mouthed, at the shape of Nightwing’s ass as it spins under the murky glow of Gotham’s streetlights.

“Holy shit,” Wade says, when Nightwing kicks off a wall, knocks a man unconscious with his thighs, and then does a full twist in the air before hitting the sidewalk in a perfect three-point superhero landing.

“Oh my God,” Wade says, barely breathing. “Do that again. I missed my chance to shove a twenty in your utility belt.”

“Deadpool?” Nightwing stands up, rising from the busted concrete like Aphrodite from the sea. There’s a chorus of angels singing in Wade’s head; he doesn’t know Latin, but he thinks it’s a cherubic cover of Baby Got Back. “What are you doing here?”

“Fighting the good fight,” Wade says, staring helplessly at the bulge of muscle under all that sinful spandex.

Nightwing’s head tilts to the side. “The good fight?”

“Trying not to jizz in my pants,” he clarifies.

It’s not his best first impression. But at least it’s an honest one.

Nightwing makes him promise not to kill anyone within Gotham city limits, and Wade feels like that’s a perfectly reasonable ask, because he was prepared to offer up three kidneys, half his teeth, and all his childbearing years.

He has a bit of trouble early on. Deathless crime fighting falls outside his general oeuvre, and there’s a whole caper two days in where a guy drops dead of a heart attack, and Wade spends twelve hours desperately hauling the body from one dumpsite to another, trying to find one the Bats don’t know about. But all in all, he does alright, and Nightwing takes him on a romantic picnic a week into his stay to celebrate.

“Is this a date?” Wade asks, as he kicks his heels over the side of the building, biting happily into the cheeseburger Nightwing handed him out of a takeout bag. “Because I’m not really that kinda girl, but we can totally do butt stuff on the first date if you want to. It’s just that you’re so gentlemanly and svelte. You’re completely overwhelming my natural modesty.”

“Svelte,” Nightwing says, laughing. He takes all of Wade’s flirting in stride, and Wade honestly can’t tell if it’s because he’s not interested or because he gets hit on so much and so often that he thinks it’s just how people talk to each other.

Last night, Wade slapped him on the ass in a last-ditch effort to clarify his intentions, and Nightwing just ass-slapped him back and then yelled “Good game!” over his shoulder as he executed a perfect double tuck off a fire escape.

“Bluebird,” Wade says, with a heavy, wistful sigh. “You’re breaking my heart.”

Nightwing looks over at him. He’s got a smear of ketchup right before his bottom lip, and his jawline makes Wade want to lick him from his chin to his ear.

Well, and everywhere else, too.

“You’re a funny guy, Deadpool,” Nightwing tells him. “When Batman comes back and runs you out of Gotham, you’re welcome to take sanctuary in Bludhaven.”

And isn’t that the perfect metaphor for the pair of them? Nightwing, human embodiment of grace and goodwill, ushering Wade, sack of sin in human skin, into a place of sacred safety?

“Okay,” Wade says. “But only if I get to show up in a nun costume and confess my sins on my knees.”

Nightwing nearly chokes on his food. When he looks up at Wade again, he’s smiling, wide and cheerful, a little crooked. He reaches over, pats Wade on the knee, and his fingers must slip on the way back, because they run halfway up Wade’s thigh before he pulls them away.

“Whatever makes you comfortable,” he says.

Wade finds Red Hood in a shoot-out, and the pair of them go through some genuine gymnastics to get the whole thing calmed down without murdering anyone. Wade gets shot five times toward the end, when he gets bored of all the tireless back-and-forth and hops out from behind cover to go chase down the last guy. One of the bullets nicks his spine, so he ends up lying on the floor, face mashed into a growing puddle of blood, waiting for that to heal, but Red Hood’s a real sweetheart and comes along to drag him bodily to a dry patch.

“Hey, Red,” Wade says, when he can finally roll over under his own steam. “First of all, great color scheme.”

“Thanks.” He doesn’t sound like he means it. He’s doing some Florence Nightingale cosplay routine on the criminals, patching them up while they lie there unconscious or bat at him weakly, cursing the whole time.

“Second of all, about Nightwing.” Wade pushes himself up on his elbows, tries to move his feet. They don’t respond, so he leans back, settles in to wait a little longer. “What’s he like? What’s he into? Flowers? Wine? Fellatio?”

Red Hood’s head swivels his direction. There’s a long pause. His hands move suddenly, and the trafficker on the ground underneath him screams.

“Yikes,” Wade says.

Red Hood ignores him and goes back to work. Wade watches as he takes a marker out of some unseen pocket in his suit and writes TOURNIQUET 1:21 AM on the criminal’s forehead. When he stands up, his pants stretch over his prodigious thighs, and Wade hears angels signing again, but they’re a little half-hearted about it.

A minute or so later, Wade climbs shakily to his feet and stretches while his nerves get their shit together. “I mean it,” he says, walking across the warehouse. “Nightwing. I’m trying to woo him. Got any tips?”

“You could fuck off,” Red Hood says, off-hand.

“Novel approach,” Wade says. “Don’t see how it’s gonna help.”

“It’s gonna help me.” Red Hood surveys the bloody scene, hands on his hips. He points directly at a pale man in the corner, whose leg is so badly broken than his toes are somehow pointing directly behind him. “You’d better not fucking go into shock. EMS is five minutes out. You’re alive when they get here, or I’ll kick your ass.”

“Yeah,” Wade says. “Me too.”

Red Hood shakes his head and stalks out of the building. Wade follows at his heels. All these Bats have really amazing asses. He wonders what their workout routines look like.

“How many squats do you do?” Wade asks. “I mean, hourly. What’re we talking? Two hundred?”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Red Hood ducks into an alley, and Wade ducks right along beside him.

“Nothing. I’m just curious about those thighs.”

Red Hood lets Wade follow him all the way up the fire escape, but then he turns around, blocks his path, and stares at him through the eyes of the helmet. “Stop following me. I promised not to kill anyone in Gotham, but you can’t die.”

Wade blinks at him. “What’s that mean?”

“It means,” Red Hood says, leaning in, “that I can do anything I want to you. Won’t kill you, right? And I’m in a real bitch of a dry spell.”

“Jesus, Red,” Wade says, clutching at nonexistent pearls, “did you mean that to sound as sexual as it did?”

Red Hood makes a low, disgusted noise. “Aren’t you panting after Nightwing?”

“Sure,” Wade says. He swallows, shakes his head a little. If Red Hood is the scintillating demon in skimpy red lingerie, Nightwing is the beautiful angel in white lace, and he’s trying to be good here. He’s trying to orient himself, dick-first, toward the side of light and beauty. “But, hey, I’m a flexible guy. Listen. If you put on a domino mask, maybe spray paint that red bat blue, we could have something.”

Red Hood visibly recoils. “I’m gonna throw up,” he announces.

“Yeah,” Wade says, nodding. “A lot of my romances start that way.”

Red Robin won’t give him any advice, either. He won’t even talk to him. He scampers away into darkness every time Wade so much as gets close.

He corners him, finally, when Red Robin’s in the middle of doing something complicated with what appears to be an actual, no-shit time bomb. There’s a digital timer counting down and everything. It looks like something out of a 90’s movie.

“Hey,” he says. “Sorry. I can see you’re busy. But if you had to seduce Nightwing in five minutes or less, how would you do it?”

“Are you serious?” Red Robin points empathetically at the bomb. “I’m working.”

“Yeah,” Wade says. “I see that.” He glances at the timer. “Looks like you’ve got at least thirty seconds to answer the question.”

Red Robin make a series of persecuted noises. “I can’t believe he was serious,” he says, when he’s done.

Wade feels a flutter in his chest. It could be the chalupas he fished out of the dumpster four blocks back, but he thinks maybe it’s love instead. “Who? Nightwing? Was he talking about me?”

“No, Red Hood. He mentioned your weird crush in the group text.”

Wade gasps. “I made the Bats’ group text? Batman’s gonna see my name?”

Red Robin peers up at him. It’s hard to tell, given how much of his face is covered, but he looks pained. “Nightwing likes redheads,” he says. “Busty redheads.”

Wade thinks it over. “I can get surgery,” he decides. “And a wig.”

“Oh my God,” Red Robin says, and severs a wire.

They don’t blow up. That’s probably more important for Red Robin than it is for Wade.

Wade gives him a companionable slap on the back. “Hey, look at you, kid. You’re doing great.”

The look Red Robin directs his way is bleak. “Honestly, I was kind of hoping for a quick death.”

The smallest Bat doesn’t speak to him at all. He just comes at Wade with a sword. It’s maybe the single most adorable thing Wade’s ever seen.

“Look at you!” Wade coos, as they dodge and spin, blades clashing against each other. “You’re so cute and angry, oh my God!”

Robin shrieks something shrill and then tries to take his head off.

Nightwing and Red Hood arrive to break things up before the fight can get out of control. Wade loses a couple fingers in the brawl, but he manages to keep Robin from getting nicked even the littlest bit. He gives the kid a jaunty wave as Red Hood hauls him away in a fireman’s carry.

“You’re doing great, sweetie!” he yells. “I’m so proud of you!”

Robin flips him off with both hands, and Wade honestly tears up a little.

“Kids, huh?” he says, knocking his shoulder into Nightwing’s. “They’re the future.”

Nightwing runs a hand down his face. He seems embarrassed. “I’m so sorry,” he says. “Red Hood made a joke about protecting my virtue, and Robin didn’t get the humor.”

Wade nods sympathetically. “They’re very literal at that age.”

“Yeah,” Nightwing says, sighing heavily. “God, that’s embarrassing.”

Wade checks on his hand. The last three fingers of his left hand are just tiny little spurs of skin and bone, re-growing as he waits.

Nightwing breathes in sharp across his teeth. “He cut off your fingers?”

“Yeah.” Wade shrugs. “He’s a scrappy little thing, huh? But they’ll grow back.”

“I’ll have a talk with him,” Nightwing says. His hands land on his hips. He sounds deeply aggrieved on Wade’s behalf. Those butterflies come back, and Wade hasn’t eaten since he stole a box of Fruit Loops this morning, so he knows it’s not indigestion this time.

He nudges Nightwing with his shoulder again. “You could kiss it better,” he offers, with blind, desperate optimism.

Nightwing turns to stare at him. His eyes are an unreadable white behind his domino mask, but his mouth is twisting up into a dubious smile. “You want me to kiss your bloody stumps?”

Wade swallows. “Can I, uh.” He stops, swallows again. “Can I pick another stump for you to put in your mouth?”

Nightwing snorts and then shakes his head. His smile is breathtaking. Or would be, if Wade hadn’t snuck a quick glance down at his ass while Nightwing had his eyes closed. As it stands, Wade doesn’t have any breath left to take.

“Let me buy you dinner,” Nightwing says. “To make up for Robin.”

“Oh,” Wade says, perking up. “A second date, huh? Can we do it without the gargoyle chaperones this time? No offense, but they’re a real buzzkill.”

Nightwing shifts beside him. He makes a low, thoughtful noise in the back of his throat. “We can do it at my place,” he offers.

“Jesus, baby blue,” Wade says, “I can’t deal with the innuendo anymore. You gotta cut it out. I’m gonna ruin my pants.”

Nightwing grins, smug and crooked, and reaches up to scratch at the back of his neck. He’d seem almost shy, except Wade can’t believe for a second that a man who’d willingly leave the house in that outfit has a single spare ounce of modesty left in him.

“Who says it’s innuendo?” Nightwing asks. He glances up at him, sidelong through the domino mask, and Wade’s heart swoops, spins, and settles into the pit of his stomach. “Maybe it was just an offer.”

Wade wonders if he’s hallucinating. Maybe that tiny little Robin drugged him somehow.

“What?” he asks, turning to face him straight on. “What was that, Bluebird? Sorry, I hallucinated.”

Nightwing laughs. He’s still smiling, bright and friendly. “Come on, Deadpool. Let me buy you dinner. We can take it back to my place.”

“Maybe you’re hallucinating.” Wade steps closer, checks Nightwing over from the top of his artfully messy hair to the tread of his boots. “Did that little demon get you? Hit you on the head? Stab you with a needle, dose you up?”

“Hm, maybe.” Nightwing doesn’t seem the least bit bothered by how close Wade is. His voice is a little lower, though, dropping into bedroom range. “Maybe you’d better check.”

Wade stares, open-mouthed.

Nightwing shakes his head a little, still smiling, and then he reaches down and takes Wade’s hand, knots their fingers together, and tugs him toward the door. “You coming?” he asks.

“God,” Wade says, stumbling after him, ready to follow him to hell and back, right through the worst parts of Gotham. “God, not yet. But I’m really close.”

#writing #fic #fill

176 notes · View notes

dolantwinsfavss · 6 years ago

Text

Two Broken Hearts Part 2 {g.d}

Part 1 // Masterlist

For the past couple of days, you thought your feelings for Grayson would fade away, instead they did the complete opposite. Every time you would be in the same room as him, your heart would begin to race, a smile would appear on your face as you daydreamed about him, and every time you walked into the room, your eyes immediately searched for his. You couldn’t deny that everything you had felt was nothing because it meant something. Something you didn’t understand yet.

However, you had also noticed how Grayson was around you. Purposely bumping into you so you would smile at him, wherever you sat he would be right next to you, and he even seemed happier... opening more of himself to you, something he rarely did other than with Ethan.

Maybe he had feelings for you too... Just maybe. Or at least that’s what you hoped.

Today the twins had plans to go on a hike with your brother and his girlfriend. You, however, agreed to drive your brother and his girlfriend to the twins’ house, but decided to stay back since you “weren’t feeling well.” But the truth was you didn’t want to be alone. Every group you were apart of, you found yourself being excluded from everyone, seeming as if it didn’t even matter if you were there or not.

When you arrived at their house, you saw Ethan putting his stuff into his trunk. “Hey guys!” Ethan said as you all stepped out of the car and started to walk towards his Jeep.

“Hi.” We all said at the same time as your brother and his girlfriend put their bags into the car while you stood around them.

“Y/N are you sure you don’t want to come with us? It’ll be a lot of fun.” Your brother’s girlfriend asked for the third time today.

“No I’m not going. I’m not fe-”

“Wait you’re not going?” You heard Grayson say. You didn’t need to see who it was, you could recognize his voice anywhere.

“Oh hey Grayson...,” Here comes the butterflies again. “And yeah I don’t think I’m going to go. I’m not really feeling well.” You said looking down at your shoes before looking up at him and seeing the flash of disappointment in his eyes. It was subtle, but it was there.

“B-But are you sure? We’re going to head to the beach after and get some food. Plus I just got home! We haven’t hung out in so long!” He said trying to persuade you in any way to go with them.

“Yeah I’m sure and I know. But I don’t really want to barge in on your guys’ hangout. Plus I don’t have any other clothes to wear.”

“I think Cameron left some clothes here on accident last time she came to visit. You can borrow some of her’s! I’m sure she wouldn’t mind.”

“Grayson... It’s okay. Really. You don’t ha-” Before you could finish your sentence, he was grabbing your wrist and leading you to their guest house.

He handed you some clothes and said, “Here. You can change in here, I’ll be right outside if you need me,” before walking out the door.

After Grayson left, you spotted one of the swimsuits from the twins’ merch and quickly put it on before putting on the rest of the clothes. You opened the door as Grayson looked up from his phone and gave you a sweet smile, “You ready?”

You smiled back at him and said, “Yeah I’m ready.”

As the five of you were driving to your destination, you were all singing at the top of your lungs with the windows down having the time of your lives. You caught Grayson looking and smiling back at you from the passenger’s seat through the side mirror which you gladly returned. Maybe today was going to be a good day after all.

While hiking, you kind of stayed back from the rest of the group since everyone else had a friend, but you. That was until you guys found a lake and some cliffs to jump off of. As everyone changed into their swimsuits, you heard someone say, “Hey nice swimsuit. Where’d you get it?”

You turned around and saw Grayson smiling at you before lightly chuckling and saying, “Sorry I saw it and there wasn’t really anything else to we-”

“Don’t worry about it bubs. Keep it. It looks good on you.” He quickly said causing you to look away with a huge grin on your face as you felt the blush rise to your cheeks. Grayson Dolan what are you doing to me?

“Come on guys! Let’s go!” You both heard Ethan yell as he ran to the top of the cliff and jumped into the river below, followed by your brother and his girlfriend.

“You heard him. Come on let’s go.” You said as you started to run towards the cliff and Grayson following close behind you. As you were running you somehow misplaced your foot and felt yourself beginning to fall until you felt someone’s arm wrap around your waist to keep you from falling.

“Whoa. You okay?” Grayson said looking down at you with those sparkling eyes of his as his arm was still wrapped around you. Holy fuck they look so good. He looks so good.

“I- I um...” You couldn’t get the words out of your mouth, you were too distracted by his touch. His touch that made your skin tingle.

He laughed at your loss of words and said, “You’re welcome,” before walking ahead of you and reaching out his hand for you to take. “Come on let’s go. Don’t want you falling anymore.”

You hesitantly reached for his hand as he lead the both of you to the top of the cliff.

“What took you guys so long? Get down here! The water feels amazing!” Your brother yelled from below.

Grayson was ready to jump into the water as you peered from above contemplating if this was a good idea. He noticed your behavior and squeezed your hand, making you realize that you both never let go of each other. It was something that made your heart happy, a feeling you felt all day when you were with him.

“Come on. I got you. We’ll do this together.” He said giving you some reassurance.

And that was all you needed. “Together.” You breathed out before counting down and jumped off the cliff and into the water. You both resurfaced and joined the rest of the group.

The five of you spent the rest of the time in the water just relaxing and messing around. You saw Grayson getting out of the water before you decided to splash him and started to laugh. He turned around and raised an eyebrow, “Oh you think that’s funny?”

“Actually yeah I do.” You said back but before you knew it, Grayson came charging at you and picked you up effortlessly and threw you back into the water.

As you resurfaced, he said with a smirk on his face, “Not so funny now, now is it?” before he walked away. Soon enough, the five of you agreed that it was time to go and grab some food. While you were all drying off and getting redressed, you couldn’t help but stare at Grayson. The way the sun reflected off of his body, the way his side profile was nothing but perfection, just everything about him was indescribable.

You guys left the mountains and grabbed some food before taking it to the beach where you set up a bonfire while the sun began to set. You all sat in a group surrounding the fire before the boys decided to take a swim into the ocean, leaving you and your brother’s girlfriend by the fire.

“Hey pretty girl.” She said as she sat next to you. She was like a sister to you and you were glad to have her in your life.

“Hey.” You said back before turning your head towards the sunset when you were really watching Grayson run towards the ocean.

“What’s up with you and Grayson? You know you’ve been staring at him all day right?” She asked slightly nudging you.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about?” You said trying to avoid the conversation, but you knew she wouldn’t let go until she got an answer.

“Come on don’t lie to me. I saw you staring at him when you thought no one else was looking. I know a crush when I see one.”

“Whoa whoa whoa. Okay yes I’ve been staring at him, but I can’t help it. I mean hello? Have you seen him? And no I don’t have a crush on him.” You said hoping to hide the truth you still were not sure about.

“Oh please. You can deny it all you want but I’m calling it now.”

“Okay so what if I had the smallest bit of feelings for him? It’s not like he would even feel the same way...” You said honestly as you began to draw mindlessly in the sand.

“Hey listen to me. I haven’t known Grayson for too long but I can tell that guy has one of the purest hearts for the people he cares about, and you’re one of them. He probably cares a lot more than you know.” She said softly.

“I know he cares... It’s just that I don’t think it’s going to happen.” You finally said out loud. Maybe hearing it out loud would put you into reality. A reality you wished was nothing but a fear.

“If it makes you feel better, I saw the way he was with you today. I knew he really wanted you to be here with us and when you said you weren’t feeling well, I saw a flash of sadness in his eyes. And when you were with him today, he just seemed happier than he was before. Plus he could not stop staring at you when he first saw you in the swimsuit from their merch.” She said earning a slight chuckle from you. “Just... don’t give up so easily okay?”

“I’ll try not to...” You said giving her a sweet smile before you both saw Grayson running up to you both.

“Hey guys what’s up?” Grayson said sitting next to you.

“Hey.” You said while giving him a soft smile.

“I’ll leave you two alone.” Your brother’s girlfriend said getting up and running towards Ethan and your brother who were still down by the water, not before giving you a quick wink which caused you to roll your eyes at her.

“What was that about?” Grayson asked with a confused look on his face.

“I don’t know, but you’re soaking wet and you’re getting water all over me.” You said before tossing a towel at him that hit is face.

“Oh sorry am I?” Grayson said before getting up and shaking his whole body over you like a wet dog, resulting in getting more water on you.

“Okay! Okay! Stop!” You said while laughing and putting your hands up by your face, trying your best to shield yourself from the water flying off of his body.

Grayson sat back down next to you as you grabbed the towel you threw at him earlier to wipe the unnecessary water that was on now on you before he snatched it back and actually began to use it. “Payback for throwing the towel at my face.”

“Okay but you really didn’t need to get water on me either.” You said nudging him slightly.

You two sat in silence for a little while before he asked, “Hey were you not really going to come today just because you weren’t feeling well?”

You debated on answering him as you went back to drawing mindlessly in the sand before you said, “Yes and no.”

He waited for your response, trying to get you to look at him, but you knew this was something he wasn’t going to let go. So you took a deep breath and said, “The truth is I didn’t want to be alone.”

“W-What are you talking about? I don’t understand.” He said trying to find your eyes.

“I didn’t want to come because I didn’t want to be alone. Every friend group I’ve been apart of, I just have always found myself being on the outside like as if it didn’t matter if I was there or not.” You said still looking down, not daring to look into Grayson’s eyes.

He still didn’t say anything which made you worry. “You know what? Just forget about it. It was stupid anyway... Sorry.” You said laughing at yourself. This was going to be something you would embarrassed about forever.

“Hey listen to me,” He said still trying to get you to look at him until he made you look at him by placing his fingers under your chin. “It’s not stupid. It’s not stupid at all actually. I know how you feel. I’m like that all of the time. You’re not alone in this. Don’t ever think that you’re alone, especially when you’re with me or E. We’re always going to be here for you. I’m always going to be here for you.”

Your brother’s girlfriend was right. Grayson has one of the purest hearts on this Earth. His intimidating figure may not seem like it, but he is truly one of best people on this Earth.

You finally looked up at him and didn’t realize how close you were until now. His eyes were looking at you so softly, like how every girl wished they were looked at by their crush. Everything in this moment made you realize, Maybe I do have feelings for him.

But the question was did he?

@kawennote09 @fireghost-x @this-and-that-with-meghan @maria190702

228 notes · View notes

rose-of-gabriel · 5 years ago

Text

Reprieve (3/4)

Dick had suggested that they get a taxi, but Kory wanted to walk. She said the club wasn’t too far and the fresh air would be good for them. That’s easy to say when you’re a Tamaranean who runs hotter than the sun, but Dick isn’t really complaining. How can he? They’re walking arm-in-arm and Kory still has that dazzling smile on her face. He takes in the city with wide, innocent eyes, almost like a tourist, his blinders coming down for the first time in weeks. Kory’s right, as usual. They needed this.

They come up on one of their favorite restaurants, El Toro, while two waiters take their breaks on the front steps. They’re having a heated debate that Dick can barely follow, but Kory throws in some remark that has them both laughing. Spanish is the most recent conquest in her master plan to learn all Earthen languages. When she looks back at him her eyes narrow, probably because of the stupid grin on his face.

“Can I help you, Richard?”

He shrugs. “Just glad we did this.”

The smile she gives him is just as brilliant, but it’s softer, somehow. She pulls him tighter against her side as they continue down the street.

0o0o0o0

The club’s atmosphere is potent, burning in Kory’s lungs like hard liquor. Reflective panels in the floor bounce neon light all over the room, flitting across the mass of dancing bodies. Dick turns, probably to comment on how it’s all a bit extra for his taste, but totally freezes when Kory removes her coat. She tries not to look too pleased with herself. She’s wearing a high-waisted skirt with a racy slit up the side and a purple bandeau. Dick’s eyes devour every inch of her, and it’s a solid thirty seconds before he actually meets her gaze. She raises an eyebrow, daring him to voice whatever devious thoughts are whirling through his head. He doesn’t take the bait, though, and instead tugs at her hand, bringing it to his lips.

“You look beautiful.” He murmurs, barely audible over the music.

Kory’s not blushing, and if she is, the neon lights will keep her secret. They drop off their coats and weave through the swarm of dancers. By some stroke of luck, they actually get seats at the bar. Kory considers it a good omen, a sign that they really deserved this. The stress of the last few weeks slowly loosens it grip, and Kory actually shivers from the release.

She orders a round of tequila shots, to which Dick fondly rolls his eyes as if to say of course you would. Once that’s over with, Kory gets a whiskey sour. The bartender asks Dick what he wants, but Dick doesn’t answer, just looks at Kory expectantly. She’s not sure how exactly this became a thing: ordering the weirdest, most random drinks for him when they go out. Good or bad, Dick always plays up his reaction just to make her laugh.

“Can I please get a…” her eyes quickly dance over the specialty mixes, “Blue Monkey for the gentleman?”

Dick snorts. The bartender nods and leaves to fix their drinks. Kory scoots to the edge of her barstool so that her legs are wedged between Dick’s. He quirks an eyebrow, leaning enticingly close, challenge and mirth shining in his eyes. Kory’s grinning like an idiot, the tequila singing in her veins. Her hand snakes up his shirt and pulls him in for a kiss. It’s quick – they try to keep their PDA pretty tame– but there’s heat to it, a fire reignited after weeks of tension smothering it.

Dick’s laughter breaks the moment, his shoulders shaking in an effort to suppress it. Kory finds herself laughing with him. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, I just…” He shakes his head. “I’m glad this is what you had in mind. Much better than getting groceries.”

“Hm, making out at the supermarket. Not on my to-do list, but if you wanna give it a shot…“

0o0o0o0

“Let’s dance.”

Kory’s surprised. Usually, if they do go clubbing, she has to drag Dick’s ass onto the dancefloor. He allegedlyprefers more civilized events, like that Wayne Co. gala Alfred had dragged them to a few months ago, where the dancing was more like applied calculus than feeling the music. Kory’s told him he just needs the right partner.

She can tell by the way his hands immediately find her hips that he enjoys this more than he lets on. His fingers are firm but not possessive, letting her move freely to the beat. Her own hands flirt with his biceps and chest before resting at the base of his neck, keeping him where she wants him. All stimuli that is not his body against hers falls out of focus.

The minutes pass by in a blur of sound and color. They laugh for seemingly no reason and dance until they can’t breathe. Dick calls for a time out and Kory obliges, never admitting that she could use a break, too. They lost their seats at the bar, but there’s enough space to stand and order another round of drinks.

They clink shot glasses and slam them back with reverie. Dick licks his lips and Kory unabashedly stares. He smirks, ducking in to peck her cheek. Alright, so their usual rules about PDA have gone out the window, but it’s one night. One night after weeks of tense patrols and worrying themselves sick over the kids. Who can blame them?

Dick pulls back, shouting over the music. “Bathroom. Be right back.”

Watching him try and weave through the crowd without knocking someone over is amusing. Kory turns back to the bar, catching the eyes of a tall blonde nursing a drink in the opposite corner. Kory smiles automatically, and the woman smiles back, prying herself away from the bar-top and coming over.

“Hey.” She says in a raspy voice.

Kory presses her lips together, trying not to laugh at the slur in her words. “Hi.”

“I’m Anya.”

“Kory.”

“What brings you here tonight, Kory?”

The opportunity presents itself, and Kory takes it gladly. “Well, I left the kids at home to spend a night out with my boyfriend.”

Her words register slowly, but when they do, Anya’s face is priceless. “You have kids?”

“Yep, boy and a girl. You’re surprised right? Believe me, they were both unexpected.” Anya’s jaw unhinges and now Kory does laugh. “Sorry to disappoint you.”

Kory traces the rim of her glass while Anya composes herself. Running a hand through her hair, she sets her elbow on the bar and leans in.

“Not disappointed. Honestly, I’m impressed.”

“Impressed?”

“Yeah. Hot-as-hell single mother who can kill it on a dancefloor? Impressive.”

Kory wags her finger. “Uh-uh. Someone wasn’t listening.” She’d know his presence anywhere, feels his fingers on her spine and grins. “Not single.”

“Hey ladies.” Dick drawls beside her. Anya probably won’t pick up on the edge in his voice, but Kory doesn’t miss it.

“Ah.” Anya mumbles after a moment. “I forgot. The boyfriend.”

“Present and accounted for.” Dick gibes.

Anya glances between them, her lips pressed in a thin line. She offers a terse nod before returning to the other side of the bar. Kory rolls her eyes, turning in Dick’s arms so they’re facing one another.

“Glad to see you’re not the jealous type.”

“One of my lesser flaws.” His kiss swiftly silences any argument to that statement.

Kory is definitely feeling the alcohol, now. Her whole body sways when his lips meet hers and she has to push against the bar to keep steady. The friction between them drags a moan from Dick’s throat that sends shockwaves down Kory’s spine.

“Wish the blonde had stuck around.” She teases, “The three of us could have had a good time.”

Dick’s expression morphs from scandalized to considering to downright mischievous. His one hand drifts over the exposed skin at her midriff, the other snaking up her thigh.

“Maybe I don’t want to share you.” He purrs, kissing just below her ear. “Maybe I want you all to myself.”

Kory bites her lip, trying and probably failing to control her breathing. “Well, there are a lot of people in here, Mr. Grayson. If you want me, I suggest we go somewhere more private.

Dick pulls back, his face millimeters from hers, eyes searching. For what, Kory’s not sure. He can’t doubt she’s serious, can’t doubt that she wants him, yet here he stands, waiting for her to do… something. To sign off on whatever idea is taking shape in his head. Her lips pull up in a smirk and she raises an eyebrow as if to say I’m waiting, Boy Wonder.

That seems to settle it. Dick squeezes her arm then pushes back into the crowd without a word. Kory drums her fingers against the bar, deciding that it’s probably a good time to close their tab. When she turns back, she spots Dick talking to a surly man wearing a staff t-shirt. They’re positioned next to a black metal staircase that leads to a doorway blocked by velvet curtains; some sort of VIP lounge, Kory assumes.

It looks like Dick is trying to convince the guard of something, but he isn’t having much luck. Then he slips something into the man’s hand, and the guard nods. When Dick makes it back to her, Kory’s eyebrows are at her hairline.

“Um…. what was that?”

Dick blushes, tugging her away from the bar. “Follow me.”

They head toward the metal staircase, the guard shooting Dick a knowing look as they pass. Dick stops at the top of the stairs, pulling back one of the curtains and ushering her inside. They must be sound absorbing, because as soon as she steps inside, the blaring music disappears. There’s a smaller dancefloor at the end of the lounge, a few velvet couches and floor tables, and a massive jukebox.

Kory nods approvingly. Dick hovers by the doorway, making sure she’s satisfied before taking in the space, himself. When he’s close enough, Kory grabs a fistful of his shirt and pulls him to her.

“Nicely done, Mr. Grayson.” Her palm slides down his chest, around his side to rest on the small of his back.

Dick doesn’t waste another second, cupping her face and consuming her with a kiss. An unbidden sigh escapes her lips, her body melting against his. It’s relief and lust and love pouring out of her in waves so powerful she nearly collapses under the pressure. Dick’s hands begin a slow trek down her body, slipping under her bandeau and making her gasp.

“Dick,” she breathes, “anyone could come in.”

His hand stills and he blushes again. “That won’t be a problem.”

She blinks at him for a moment, then it clicks. “Did you rent out the lounge?” His silence answers her. “How the hell did you pay for that?”

He ducks his head. “I may have… used some of the money Bruce left us.”

Kory’s stunned. Normally Dick wouldn’t touch that money under any circumstances. The more she ruminates on it, the harder it is to keep a straight face.

“You used some of the limited cash supply your estranged adoptive father left you so we could have sex in a club lounge?”

Dick cringes. “You know, it seemed kind of romantic in my head but now that you say it out loud…”

She’s laughing when she kisses him.

#titans #titans 2018 #dickkory #robin #starfire #fanficiton #reprieve #dick grayson #koriand'r

18 notes · View notes