"reading is one of my defence mechanisms to not get caught up in the world."
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PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
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Janaina Medeiros
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oozey mess
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Sweet Seals For You, Always
NASA
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@dunbarx
"reading is one of my defence mechanisms to not get caught up in the world."
-> books and silence (you matter series 1/?)
synopsis: dick grayson's girlfriend is not supposed to mean anything but she does mean a lot to damian wayne and the rest of the batfamily. tags: platonic!damian wayne x reader, platonic!talia al-ghul x reader, platonic!jason todd x reader, platonic!batfam x reader, dick grayson x reader notes: talia al-ghul hate will not be tolerated! i love her. she loves her son. she loves jason as a son (that kiss did not happen). she respects dick. she is a complex woman and mom, and will always be treated that way in my blog.
When Damian Wayne moved to the United States, he had not expected much from this country, its people, and most importantly, his father.
Admittedly, Damian felt lost. A part of him could not settle in Gotham.
Small things like the smell of his mother's shawl, her curt but everlasting love for him, the distinct scent of bakhoor in the interior fragrance that was used around the grand halls, and even the sound of everyday phrases that he associated with home were gone in an instant. And no matter how much he tried, he could not replicate that feeling here, in Gotham.
But Damian is good at adapting. He is sufficiently prepared to fit in without compromising his standards, integrity, or values. He will stand out in the glory of being an Al-Ghul and Wayne, but he will also blend in with the chaos of Gotham seamlessly. That makes him a good heir and a good Robin. A great Robin, actually. Saving lives. It's an honour.
In doing so, he gets closer to Talia in an unspoken way. Seas and lands apart, he gets to remember Talia in every life he saves, in every deed he fulfills with Bruce Wayne's ideologies and Talia Al-Ghul's heart, no matter how many did not understand her.
Sometimes he wishes to see her. But Damian understands what has happened. Bruce having his custody, Damian being away from the League... they are choices that occurred for reasons. Painful, but Damian survived.
He always will.
So he lives. Damian goes on as Robin. He becomes the notoriously respected heir of the Wayne family. He is beloved and feared in ways that only make sense to him.
But things change. He meets you, Dick Grayson's girlfriend. Biomedical and c-suite extraordinaire. A genius who tinkers with gadgets for fun. Someone who is calm, extremely loving, but distant with set boundaries, and silent.
Someone who sees Dick for who he is. That is what the family realized early on. Dick, who is burdened in ways that he tries not to show and succeeds, has you now. He does not pretend with you. He does not have to be the beacon of light he tries so hard to be, soft and unwavering in his cheerfulness and compassion. He is the heart of his teams, his work, and the people who look up to him and the flash of blue that BlĂźdhaven looks forward to, as hope, fear, and myth. But you are the center of his life, his world.
Damian tried to be agitated with you. You made Dick happier, cheerful in a different way that was frankly grating. It irritated and flustered Damian because it felt endless. So he tried his usual ways of antagonism, unintentional, something that came to him easily.
A civilian would back away. You should have, but you just calmly looked at him, smiling at an apologetic Dick. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer like he could shield you from Damian's words.
You didn't need it, though. You were hardly intimidated by the tiny Robin, and that further angered Damian.
But one day, he showed up at your home, an apartment that Damian found frankly mediocre. Dick simply wanted to spend time with him, and your place happened to be close, a haven Dick would willingly choose all the time.
Damian did not expect the bakhoor scent, the fairy lights, or the way you listened to Dick speak endlessly about everything, even patrolling. Dick's escrima sticks were next to your files. And the smell of hearty food that was vegetarian. It made Damian's eyes water slightly because Wayne Manor was home. But this... it felt like home, too.
And then Damian came back again. He stayed over and was surprised the next morning to find a cereal dispenser with different vegetarian brands. Dick sauntered into the kitchen, grinning. "Yeah, she ordered stuff that you might like. Try them out. She is gonna turn the kitchen into a buffet spread for you if that makes you happy."
Then, Dick softened and bent to look at Damian properly. "Give her a chance, Dami. She does not do words well, but she listens. She loves meâall of us. In the way she knows."
Damian stiffly nodded. Because he knows what it is like to be curt with words, to struggle with a language that was not his, and to be told that formality in words is wrong, too complex, and a disadvantage to achieving meaningful connections. So Damian does what he never expected. He softens. He softens at the anticipation of connection, drifting at the threshold of something unknown but not unwanted.
Today, he walks with you at the book fair happening at Gotham Academy. You are in your work clothes, calling Dick.
Your voice is calm, even when you bristle at the contact with the crowd. "I am here with Damian. Take your time. It's okay, Dick. I like your family, especially Damian. I love you too. Bye. Don't forget to remove your shoes before you walk inside. It's a warning. Don't call me sweetheart. Not like that."
Damian hates how he perks up at the way you say that you like him. He hates how he leans into your side, as you keep a hand on his shoulder, leading you to the many tables.
"Do you have a favourite genre?" You ask.
Damian looks up at you. "I prefer to be well-versed with all types of literature."
"Very well." You say. "Not many your age have that mindset. Good."
Damian's ears turn slightly red. You do not notice, thankfully. He clears his throat and asks, "Do you have a preferred genre in literature?"
"I like mysteries," You admit. You look a little shy as you say that.
"Mysteries?" Damian arches an eyebrow. "That is... fitting with the choice of a life partner you made."
You look at him, repeating his words. "Life partner."
Damian bristles. Panic closes his throat for a second, because he miscomprehends your mischievous tone as something far more drastic. Something where you may not want Dick as your partner for life.
You notice how Damian's throat works. You notice the way he bristles and gets lost in his thoughts. You explain calmly. "I always refer to Dick as my boyfriend. Hearing the phrase life partner makes me feel different."
"Do you take objection to that phrase?" Damian asks.
You shake your head. "No. I like it. A partner in life. Dick is exactly that."
"You are that for him, too," Damian stiffly adds, not wanting you to forget the fact that you give more than you are his partner, too. The one who takes the weight of being a girlfriend to Richard Grayson and Nightwing.
"Am I, Mr. Wayne?" You tease, and Damian jerks his chin in agreement.
He says earnestly. "You are. Grayson's..."
"authentic, observably so. More than what was seen from him before," Damian says.
Your facial expression softens. "Then I am doing my duty well."
Duty. That word means so much to Damian. He sees duty as a shackle, a vow, and a location for memories.
But for the first time in a while, he comes to see that word as synonymous with love. Right now, he sees it, because the way your voice curls around that word can only be seen and heard with love. The way the word inflects with your voice and the calmness of your face... that is love.
"Is what you have with Grayson a duty?" Damian questions as his feet take him forward to a table in the corner. Your hand shifts from his shoulder to holding his, steady and firm. Like a responsible adult who is with a child.
It hits Damian ferociously and embarrassingly that he feels like a child right now. With peers his age glancing at him curiously and teachers surprised by the way he lets you hover with fewer imposed limits, he feels like the age he is. Usually, he would loathe that, but with you, he does not. He basks in it, and he knows he will be embarrassed and angry, and he also may take that combination of feelings out on you in the coming days in the form of cutting words, something he wants to prevent desperately.
"A duty where we make each other happy and," You say. "As you say, authentic."
"Because having the space to be authentic with someone is sometimes all that you want, Damian," You add.
Damian nods, but he does not fully comprehend. The concept of that is baffling, because acceptance from another person for being authentic seems irrational. It feels laughable to be seen by someone.
You stay silent as you both stand before the table spread with literature, some of which you recognize and some of which you don't. Damian peers at the covers, the blurbs on the back, and runs his fingers through the spines.
He watches you look at some of the books with a wistful expression on your face. He does not understand why, so he questions in his proud voice. "Do you want to indulge in purchasing a novel?"
"I think I have enough for now. Do you want to?" You ask.
Damian stares at you. "Why are you gazing at the works with such longing then?"
You still. Your face contorts into something calculating but not inauthentic. You seem to weigh your options and choose your words carefully. "I was reminded of my childhood."
"I enjoy reading. The public library used to have really old books," You explain. Damian nods. He knows that you grew up near Crime Alley.
"It is always surprising to find memories in inanimate objects," You continue speaking. A tinge of sentiment hits your tone. "The courtesy of nostalgia."
Memories. Damian's mind goes to the League, his mother, his grandfather, and the many moments that hurt even bodily, even now.
"Was your childhood acceptable?" Damian questions and regrets it immediately. Growing up near Crime Alley. The answer to his question is quite clear.
"By the standards of Gotham? No. By the standards of survival? Yes. I got by," You admit. "I was the ticket out of my neighbourhood for my family."
Damian bristles as you refuse to say the phrase that haunts, something he could tell alone from the way you spoke right now. The golden child.
"I studied well. If I worked hard, I would be okay. That is what everyone said about me. I would be able to get my parents out of the neighbourhood. I could be something that saved them." You say, your eyes going back to the books.
"That is unfathomable pressure," Damian comments, but he feels, deep down, that the pressure you try not to mention is fathomable to him. Because he knows that pressure, just differently. His eyes also go back to the books.
He does not like the way his eyes wander and land on one particular work. Not a fictional novel. It is a large book buried under multiple paperbacks, but its spine is visible. The title stutters something within Damian. A medical text. Allopathic. Sharp pain fills him.
"Damian." Your voice is sharp as your hand lands back against his nape. You notice how he stares at the book, but you don't say anything. You are not here to demand answers. You are here simply to accompany him, and this little boy, who has seen so much of the world's realities at such a young age, wants to share something; you will listen. But you won't force him to do anything.
"I want to purchase that," Damian murmurs, the pride in his voice intact but the beligerent elegance gone. His voice is gravelly as if he is holding back.
"Then, we will buy it," you say, nodding at the guy behind the table. You pay, and Damian does nothing except watch. He should stop you from paying, from tapping his nape in a soothing rhythm, and from treating him the way you do. But he does not. Instead, he leans into your side and places his hand in your free one, as you take the paper bag with the wrapped book.
You do not laugh at Damian for picking such an old book. The spine is a little cracked. The papers dusty. The corners earmarked and folded. You do not say why a child of his age wants to read something so dense, something out of the science syllabus of Gotham Academy.
You just hold the bag and his hand. You lead him down the fair and make him sit down in a makeshift coffee stand with tables and chairs. You don't leave him. You sit opposite him, not asking him to eat or drink anything. You let him have choices, silently but present, and Damian feels the weight of that. He feels gratitude and relief. He feels odd, having that.
Then, in a low voice, he admits. "My mother studied medicine."
You blink.
"I was reminded of her," Damian says.
"University of Cairo," Damian adds. "She is brilliant. Much like is expected. But she outdoes the expectation of brilliance every time."
Moments pass by before you say something. Before you find the correct words to use.
"That is an expectation you have for yourself, too," You say. "And that expectation is not only about fulfilling a legacy but also about missing her."
Damian's throat closes. It feels clogged, for lack of a better word, to explain the sensation. He does not indulge in something as pathetic as flailing his arms and legs to compose himself. That is what a child without proper lessons on containment would do.
And that is not what Damian Al-Ghul Wayne would do. He composes himself. He stills. He inhales. He exhales. His being hinges on the name Al-Ghul. He thinks clearly: Damian Al-Ghul. That is still his name, a small voice murmurs within him.
He nods, as he likes the familiarity of the name Damian Al-Ghul. He nods once again as he feels the liking extend to the name Damian Wayne as well.
"I do," He murmurs afterward. His sentiments, morals, and thoughts may not fully align with either the Wayne or the Al-Ghul legacy, but he does love. As much as he is a weapon, Robin, and a boy trained to dispose of that emotion, he is a boy with a family that is founded on love as much as the rest of everything.
"It is okay to miss her," You say softly, far too gently. It springs an ache in Damian. His eyes water, and his head bends automatically to hide his eyes.
It is okay. The phrase reverberates in his ears. And silence fills the surroundings. Duty. It is okay. The words blend together almost harmoniously, making Damian feel like he is allowed to be a child. A rarity for him.
Duty. It is okay.
"I can hold onto my mother in an acceptable manner," Damian says in a soft voice. "It is a duty I cannot abandon, because... it is important to me."
Damian does not say he misses her, loves her, or that he would always love her. Those truths are far too precious to be uttered right now. But he does admit his duty. Not the duty of obligation, legacy, or spite. But because of love. Simply because of love.
Damian looks at the paper bag. He does not see duty that comes from pain, but he sees duty that comes from authenticity. From love. From something he sees in you, with the way you are with Dick, Damian, and anyone you deem dear.
So, Damian relaxes his shoulders. With his posture perfect, he lifts his head and looks at you expectantly, as if you are a life raft he can hold onto to steady and safe the next part of the conversation.
You smile at him. "Perhaps a milkshake would be a good treat before we explore the tables again?"
Damian nods, a hint of a smile peeking on his lips. "I would like that." "I will be back," you say, and your words sound like a promise that spans forever.
Damian nods again, and he notes in his mind that soon, he will buy you a book as well. A novel you will like. Mystery plot and prose that would entertain you. After all, this is a duty he wants to take on.
A/N: I am so excited to write this little series, because I love the idea of the batfamily having someone very emotionally nuanced and a civilian, who happens to Dick's girlfriend, to be there for them while also learning to love herself. And the someone happens to be the reader aka you hehe. This was very inspired by my hangout with my nephew.
girl get off that c.ai and embrace the 'x reader'
f1 driver valarr... are you fucking kidding me.
art by islafigs on tiktok
matching overalls
girl next door!reader x roy harper
summary: meeting lian for the first time
includes đ§ş slow burn,, sfw,, meddling elderly neighbors,, mutual pining,, living next door,, lian being our icon, idol, and legend
previous part - au masterlist
Only you
Pairing: Roy harper x gn!reader
Word count | 1.2k
Tags: fake dating, miscommunication, mutual pinning, idiots in love, suggestive, accidental love confession, hurt/comfort, bit of yearning
based on order #4 & 29 from the event iâm doing
and ty to @lechelovestoyap for looking over this, ilyyy <3
Thereâs something so unsettling about how easily Roy grabs your hand. Itâs not the hesitation of a friend. Or the unease of a stranger. No, his hand swallows yours whole, the cold metal of his rings biting into your skin. And every time someone glances your way, his green eyes narrow.
Itâs so unlike his usual casual demeanor. Youâre used to him cracking a joke every ten minutes.
two beds
â . selina kyle x gn!reader; there are two beds, but she insists on sharing one with you.
#. fluff. main masterlist.
"Selina, go to your bed," you murmur, trying to push her off the mattress as gently as possible. "This is too small for the two of us."
"Shhh, we can figure it out." She hugs you from behind, trapping your arms under hers before your elbows can dig into her ribs.
"This is a single bed, Selina. My single bed." You bury your face in the pillow. She keeps shifting, searching for a position that might offer some relief â or at least one you two can tolerate.
"What's yours is also mine. Isn't that how a marriage works?" She buries her face in your hair, demanding half of the pillow. "Oh, and I want some of the blanket too."
"We're not married," you huff, but you can't stay mad for much longer â not when her hands sneak under your shirt, nails grazing your warm skin.
"But we might as well be."
She pulls the blanket up, covering herself as well, and a few snuggles later, the two of you are squeezed into the tiny bed â all while Selina's bed, on the other side of the hotel room, remains completely empty.
"I'm going to file for divorce."
Š sozzoe. do not copy, post as yours, translate, or use my work for any AI purposes.
Happy birthday, darling
Lara Croft x fem!reader
Summary: Lara's birthday is coming and you decide to surprise her.
No warnings, i guess. Just pure, tooth-rotting fluff. SFW.
Words count: 1306
English is not my first language.
There were two days left until your girlfriend's birthday. Five days ago, you left under the pretext of visiting your parents for a week. But that wasn't the case. Right now, you were in the abandoned catacombs under Varanasi.
You and Lara were both archaeologists. You met on one of your joint expeditions and had been together for almost a year. You thought hard about what to give Lara, as it was her first birthday that she would celebrate with you. Of course, you wanted to do everything to make her feel special on this day.
Lara told you about her most memorable birthday, which her dad had organised for her when she was a child. You still remember the sparkle in her eyes as she recalled it, how passionately she talked about that little "expedition" in the basement of Croft Manor. And you also remember how that sparkle faded at the end of the story when she said it was the best birthday of her life. Now Lara didn't attach much importance to her birthdays, limiting herself to cozy get-togethers with Jonah, and once with Sam and Roth.
So you came up with this idea - to give Lara the artefact she once mentioned. She said how much she wanted it and had almost gotten it, but the temple collapsed at the very last moment.
The Eye of Shiva â a precious stone that fell from a statue of Shiva in India.
You couldn't know for sure if the stone had survived, even Lara didn't know. So there was a risk that this expedition would be in vain. However, by a "magical" (although, maybe the stone really did have some magical power?) coincidence, you find Shiva's Eye unharmed in the lower tiers of the temple, stuck between the collapsed boards.
Time was running out. It was already the day before Lara's birthday when you were on your way home. The trip promised to be long, and you still had to buy a festive package for the mineral. The perfect gift for the perfect girlfriend, yeah?
You arrive in England late in the evening, terribly nervous, because it was already almost 11 PM. You had to get home before midnight.
You managed to pop into a gift shop, and choosing the wrapping took up some of your precious time, because you wanted to make Lara so happy. You choose a small dark blue velvet box with a shiny bow of the same colour. Inside the box is a small cushion on which the mineral looks perfect.
And now, on the doorstep of Croft Manor, you try to catch your breath so you look less out of breath. After all, you were visiting your parents, not some ruins in India, right? When your breathing becomes more even, you finally open the door. Before you is a view of an empty living room, illuminated by the warm light of the fireplace. The time is 11:57 PM. You made it just in time.
Approaching Lara's office, you see her silhouette sitting on the floor with her back to the door, sorting through endless papers and photos. As usual. But how glad you are to see her, even if you'll later scold Lara for working so late, overworking again.
The clock strikes midnight. You tiptoe into the room and, leaning down, you gently hug Lara from behind.
"Happy birthday, darling"
You feel Lara flinch with surprise, but she recognises your touch and your voice from a thousand others.
"Oh, you're back, sweetheart!" Her joyful voice is like music to your ears. Lara quickly gets to her feet and rushes to hug you. You hug her tightly in return. "You have no idea how much I missed you" She whispers.
Lara pulls back slightly, her arms still wrapped around you. Her gaze involuntarily slides over your face and she notices a hint of dirt on your skin. Although in the dim light it was difficult to see. Lara runs her thumb over your cheek, wiping away the dust. Her eyebrows furrow slightly in confusion.
"Where did you get the dirt on your face? Look at yourself, you look like you've been on an expedition, not visiting your parents." Lara chuckles as you gasp at her words. You didn't want her to find out before it was time.
"Uh, I- never mind!" You quickly wipe the remaining dirt from your cheek. "I have a present for you."
Lara raises her eyebrows in curiosity. She clearly didn't expect you to arrive at midnight with a gift. You take off your backpack and reach inside, pulling out a dark blue velvet box and handing it to her.
Lara, without even taking the box, almost starts to thank you, but you urge her to open it at first.
Lara unties the bow and carefully pulls the lid of the box up, while you nervously fiddle with the edge of your shirt in anticipation. The little box finally opens, and at that moment, Lara's eyes widen.
"The Eye of Shiva... but how- where did you get it? The temple..."
Lara looks at you with that knowing look when the puzzle in her head has been solved. However, her face still clearly shows surprise. "You weren't visiting your parents, were you?"
You look at the floor, awkwardly twisting from side to side. You didn't want to deceive your girlfriend, but you wanted to surprise her so much.
"Well... sort of..."
"'Sort of'?" Lara's surprised voice sounds louder. "That... That was very dangerous! Going on an expedition alone, and to ruins at that, where everything could collapse at any moment!"
From the tone of her voice, you can tell that she is very worried. You can't help but feel guilty for deceiving Lara. Not when you know how much she fears losing her loved ones. You just stare at the floor, your arms behind your back.
A brief silence hangs between you and her before Lara throws herself into your arms. Her grip is strong, perhaps too strong, but you don't mind at all. You hug her back.
"You're such a crazy girl," Lara's trembling voice is muffled against your shoulder. "My crazy girl."
You let out a soft huff of laughter, giving her a tight squeeze, knowing that she liked the gift. Lara pulls away, and you could swear you saw tears glistening in her eyes, but she quickly blinks them away.
"Just no more surprises like that, okay? If anything, we'll only go on expeditions together."
You smile, deeply appreciating her concern for you. Her love for you was literally palpable.
"I just wanted to make you feel special."
You say softly as your hand gently caresses Lara's cheek.
"You make me feel special every day, my dear. I appreciate this gift immensely, but with you, I don't need much to be happy."
You pull Lara into an unexpected but infinitely tender and loving kiss. She responds willingly, and you feel butterflies fluttering in your stomach as you feel the softness of her lips against yours.
When you finally pull away, Lara's eyes are filled with adoration and boundless love.
"I like this kind of surprise much better."
Her gentle whisper is like a caress to your ears. You cannot resist the urge and plant another soft kiss on her cheek. Lara looks as if she has fallen in love with you all over again, although you know she will surely scold you again for putting yourself in such danger. But you don't mind at all. Not when Lara is standing in front of you, head over heels in love.
Lara insists on helping you clean up, and soon you will be sleeping peacefully in each other's arms. You fall asleep thinking about how many surprises await your beloved girlfriend, because there was a whole day ahead.
This is my very first work soo criticism is welcomed!! (but maybe don't judge too hard okay) Hope you enjoyed this :3
fairytale jason todd x reader
in which you let your best friend live out her dream, sacrificing yours in the process, however, someone comes along and changes your whole night.
tags: very heavily inspired by charlotte la bouffâs storyline from princess and the frog. kind of a little bit angsty at the start but it gets fluffy and sweet.
the whole night was supposed to be perfect. your fatherâs foundationâs gala, all of gothamâs elites there.
and him. michael. son of an ex supermodel and a millionaire. and your crush since you were like ten.
problem is, your best friend, sophia is also here tonight. and she likes michael too, in a more soft, shy way.
and right now youâre doing her makeup in your room. your dress is pink and pretty, hers is a soft pale blue. âgod, soph, you look gorgeous.â you mumble softly as you finish her eyeshadow.
and she does, sheâs stunning. you pull her out of the chair excitedly and spin her around.
just five minutes later, youâre both there, at the gala, you greeting people with soft kisses to the cheek and gentle hugs, while sophia trails behind you like a quiet cat following a golden retriever.
and thatâs when you see him, michael. you sigh dreamily, looking at him with nothing but adoration, and then glance back at sophia, ready to leave her alone, but her face makes your heart slow.
sheâs looking right at michael, eyes sparkling, clearly lovestruck.
you sigh and then bite your lip, conflicted. sophia is your best friend, youâll do anything for her, so thatâs why you gently nudge her, and encourage her to approach him.
before she can say anything, michael is in front of the two of you, a soft smile on his handsome face. you bite your lip, watching proudly as sophia introduces herself.
itâs a bittersweet feeling, watching the person you love get along so well with your crush, but sophia deserves to be happy, and youâre too nice to deny her that.
you slip away silently, eyes glistening with sparkling tears. you manage to find a balcony overlooking gotham.
such a strange city, it looks so beautiful, but the things happening on the streets below you are horrific.
you donât even realise that youâre crying until you hear someone clear their throat behind you.
you turn slowly, only to be met with a tall boy, about your age, maybe a bit older. he has black hair, slightly curly with a streak of white at the front. he has gorgeous eyes, and an even more gorgeous face. you recognise him, but from where, youâre not sure yet.
âoh, iâm sorry,â you say lightly, sniffling and dabbing your under eyes gently. he shakes his head and passes you a little folded napkin.
you accept it with a soft breath, something between a laugh and a sigh. biting your lip, you pull out your little compact from your clutch, and check your reflection.
yet another little embarrassed laugh leaves your lips.
âgosh, i look a mess.â and you do, to be honest. mascara running down your cheeks, lip gloss faded, a light, sad pout on your lips.
âyou look pretty, just a littleâŚâ he tries to find the right word, âdisheveled?â
another soft sigh/laugh leaves your lips.
âwhat happened anyway? you get dumped or something?â his words make you shake your head. once youâre all cleaned up again, you pass him the napkin back, and put your mirror away.
âworse, i let my best friend have the guy i like.â it sounds stupid when you say it out loud, barely an issue, but it hurts your heart nonetheless.
âjeez. i mean you looked like a nice person, but thatâs a little too nice, huh?â you nod slowly.
âiâm jason, by the way. jason todd.â
thatâs where you recognise him from.
âwayneâs boy.â you mumble. he nods.
you introduce yourself, not that youâd need to. he knows exactly who you are.
âso⌠you really gonna spend the whole night moping?â he says, voice a little more teasing than before. âi mean, you look gorgeous, itâd be a shame for you to stay hidden up here like a locked up princess.â
you sigh, and look up at him. his eyes have this little glint in them. he smiles slightly, soft, calm. and he slowly reaches out his hand.
âcome on, sweetheart. just one dance.â
Dick Grayson is so proud of you!
âBabe?â You shouted as you entered you and your boyfriendâs shared apartment.
Dick poked his head up from where he was napping on the couch at the sound of your voice. âOh! Hey baby!â He replied, with a wide smile on his face now that youâre back home from work.
Hastily, you kicked you shoes off and ran over to him â Dick could already tell something was up, youâd always scold him for not putting his shoes neatly on the rack whenever he came home, never in a million years would he think youâd be guilty of it too! â You flopped down onto his lap and wrapped your arms around his long, muscly torso, cupping his face in your hands and giving him two passionate kisses on each of his cheeks that made a loud mwah! sound and left light marks from your lipstick.
Gosh, if this was how you wanted to spend the rest of the evening, Dick would gladly be subjected to your sweet affection for as long as your heart desired.
âWhatâs got you all giddy?â He asked, though the words were slightly muffled by you squeezing his cheeks together, in return making him look a bit like a fish â the thought made you giggle to yourself.
âGuess!â
âOkay⌠let me thinkâŚâ
A large grin appeared on your face as he played along with your childish games, he would do anything, anything in the world to see you smile like that all the time, and knowing that he caused it made it all the better.
âYou saw this handsome face and was like oh my god my boyfriends so good looking Iâm gonna smother him in kisses.â
âBabe! Be serious!â You squeeled as you swatted a playful smack to his chest, though what he suggested may or may not happen every once in a while, but he doesnât have to know that.
âJust tell meâŚâ His voice trailed off as his mouth made its way to your neck, his breath tickled, making you laugh which in return he gave what for you what felt like a million gentle kisses from just under your ear all the way down to your collarbone. âPlease.â He adds, this time with an adorable pout.
âI got the promotion at work!â
âNo way! Oh my god, Iâm so proud of you!â
You grinned even wider at his last five words. He was proud of you. Your boyfriend was Nightwing for gods sake! A vigilante who spends his nights fighting criminals and helping the people of BlĂźdhaven, was your boyfriend and he was proud of you!
You buried your face in his neck to hide how red and flustered you were becoming at the simple phrase Iâm so proud of you.
âCâmon, letâs go out to dinner and celebrate, that sound good?â
You left one more loud kiss on his forehead before declaring; âYeah, that does sound good.â
âIâm home, honey!â HAL JORDAN says, stepping through the door with a relieved expression, happy to finally be home with you. Before he can open his arms, though, youâve already thrown yourself against him.
He leans against the wall for support and, freeing one arm from your tight grip, he gently ruffles your hair. âMissed me?â
You notice it immediately: the tease so full of love, almost a statement rather than a question. It makes you roll your eyes and, at the same time, want to smile in the truest way you know how.
âCome on, you were counting the minutes. Just be honest,â he insists, fingers threading through your curls as his lips brush your nose, trailing down your cheek, but stopping just short of your mouth.
You stare at him for a few moments, hoping he'll give in â it doesn't happen. Of course not. You're facing the strongest will in the universe; itâs up to you to give in.
It's a small whisper, a âyes, Hal, I missed youâ made just for him. He smiles, and you canât help but mirror him.
âI know you did,â he murmurs against your lips, finally kissing you. His ring glows, illuminating your hair in the Lanternâs green, and you feel him melt a little, just a little.
I missed you more, he thinks.
main masterlist | Š sozzoe. do not copy, post as yours, translate, or use my work for any AI purposes.
marble statue
â . diana prince x goddess!reader; of all your faithful, diana is the one you love most.
#. features aphrodite. main masterlist.
âWhat do you observe so closely on Earth, my sister?â Aphrodite approaches you, a knowing look in her eyes; it has been a while since she last witnessed the effect of love on one of her own.
âI observe the one I appreciate, my sister. She approaches my temple in the ancient capital of our faith.â You lean closer to the window, your lips softening into a smile. She climbs the staircase, entering your space of worship; she kneels before the large marble statue, battered and wounded by time, wars, and other human afflictions. Yet, she still loves it, and still adores it.
âTell me her name.â
âYou know her name. You helped create her.â
Batfam x Batsis!reader wc: 1k
âAlfred, can I show you something?â
âOf course Miss, what is it?â
At that usual Alfred politeness that always put you at ease, you gently grabbed his wrist and pulled him with you up to you room. âDonât worry, just follow me.â
âI think youâll find I can navigate this manor fine just by myself, Missâ He says, not without a small chuckle though and with grandfatherly smile.
âI can assure you whatever it is, your secret is safe with me.â
Eventually you got to your room, but before opening the door gave a warning; âLook, you canât tell anyone about this, Alfred. Okay?â
You were still abit hesitant to let him in your room and see what you were hiding, but this was Alfred youâre talking about! The most trustworthy man on the planet! The man that has been in your life as long as you can remember! The man who is so loyal that heâs been working for the same family for years!
At that thought you opened the door⌠and nothing seemed out of the ordinary.
Itâs in that state where you always use the excuse âI swear itâs clean but it doesnât look it because Iâve got too much stuffâ when Bruce insists you try to tidy your room instead of Alfred. Your bed (that was far too big for one teenage girl to sleep in every night) was just as unmade as it typically was. Your desk still messy with yet-to-be-completed algebra homework, with your school uniform resting on the chair. Clothes were strewn all over the floor rather than in your wardrobe (yet you still had the audacity to insist that you have nothing to wear).
Normal. Usual. Nothing he wasnât used to.
âWell, Miss, if this is your way of asking me to help tidy your room, than I best go back to cooking dinner and recommend that you just ask next ti-â
âMeowwwwwâ
Seeing an edit on TikTok of a âcharacterâ.
*Sighs*
Opens Tumblr and looks up âcharacterâ x reader.
Falling Again
navigation , dc navigation
Summary: Reader joins the team as a new field medic, utterly unimpressed by Dickâs charm. The more she brushes him off, the harder he falls ⌠literally. He starts slipping during patrols, messing up acrobatics, and everyone thinks heâs cursed. Turns out, heâs just distracted.
requests are open
dividers by @cafekitsune
Dick Grayson had never fallen during a simple rooftop crossing.
Until tonight.
"ROBIN!" Oracle's voice cracked through the comm. "What happened? Your tracker just dropped three stories!"
"I'm fine," Dick groaned, pulling himself out of the dumpster he'd landed in. "Just... missed my footing."
"You never miss your footing."
"First time for everything." He tried to sound casual, but even he could hear the embarrassment in his voice.
The truth was, he'd been distracted. Specifically, distracted by the memory of the new field medic's completely unimpressed face when he'd tried his signature smile on her earlier that evening.
This was becoming a problem.
Week One: The Introduction
"Team, this is Dr. Y/N L/N," Batman said during the briefing. "They'll be our primary field medic moving forward. Extensive trauma training, emergency medicine certification, and combat medical experience."
You gave a brief nod to the room, your expression professional and utterly neutral.
Dick turned on the charm immediately, offering his most winning smile. "Welcome to the team. I'm Nightwing, but you can call me Dick."
"I'll stick with Nightwing, thanks." You didn't even blink. "Is there a medical bay I should familiarize myself with?"
"I can show you around," Dick offered, standing up. "Give you the grand tour... "
"Agent A already sent me a facility map. I'm good." You turned to Batman. "When's the next scheduled patrol? I want to understand the typical injury patterns."
Dick felt his smile falter. "Did you just... turn down a tour from Nightwing?"
"I turned down a tour from someone I just met. I prefer to orient myself." You glanced at him. "No offense."
"None taken," he lied.
Across the room, Jason was grinning. "Oh, this is going to be fun."
Week Two: The Attempts
Dick prided himself on being charming. It was practically a superpower. He could talk down villains, charm civilians, and had once convinced Poison Ivy to redirect her murder plants through sheer charisma.
But you? You were immune.
"Coffee?" he offered, appearing at your elbow in the med bay.
"Have some, thanks." You gestured to your already-full mug without looking up from your inventory.
"I meant, can I get you better coffee? There's a great place in BlĂźdhaven... "
"The coffee here is fine."
"Lunch?"
"Ate already."
"Dinner?"
"Will eat later."
"Do you ever actually stop working?" Dick asked, slightly desperate now.
"When the work is done." You finally looked at him, one eyebrow raised. "Was there something medical you needed, Nightwing? Or are you just here to interrupt my supply count?"
"I, no. Just being friendly."
"Mm-hmm." You went back to your inventory. "Friendly noted. Goodbye."
Dick left, feeling like he'd just been politely but firmly dismissed.
In the Cave, Tim looked up from his computer. "Strike out again?"
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"You've been here for twenty minutes. You only come to the Cave during the day when you're trying to run into the new medic."
"That's not, I'm just being welcoming!"
"You brought flowers yesterday."
"Those were, those were a welcome gift!"
"Dick, you brought roses. A dozen red roses." Tim didn't even try to hide his amusement. "That's not a welcome gift. That's a declaration."
"They didn't even keep them! Said they were allergic and gave them to Barbara."
"Actually," Barbara's voice came through the speakers, "I'm enjoying them very much. They're on my desk. Very pretty."
Dick groaned.
Week Three: The Falling Begins
It started small.
A stumble during training. Missing a handhold on a building. Taking a punch he normally would have dodged.
"You're off your game," Batman observed after Dick took a hit that left him with bruised ribs.
"Just tired."
"You're never tired." Bruce studied him. "What's going on?"
"Nothing. I'm fine."
He wasn't fine.
He was distracted by the way you'd rolled your eyes when he'd tried to flirt during the post-patrol debrief. By the little smile you'd hidden when Damian made a sarcastic comment. By the fact that you treated everyone on the team with the same professional courtesy except him⌠with him, you seemed actively annoyed.
It was driving him crazy.
"Nightwing, focus!" Batman's warning came too late.
Dick missed the grapple point, his line sailing past the building ledge. He scrambled, catching himself on a fire escape, but not before wrenching his shoulder.
"Dammit."
"Med bay. Now." Batman's voice left no room for argument.
Of course, you were on duty.
"Let me guess," you said, not looking up from your tablet. "Dislocated shoulder?"
"How did you... "
"You're holding it at a specific angle, and you grunted when you came through the door." You finally looked at him, gesturing to the exam table. "Sit."
Dick sat, trying not to wince.
"This is the third injury this week," you observed, gently examining his shoulder. "That's unusual for you. Your file says you're one of the most skilled acrobats in the world."
"Having an off week."
"Mm-hmm." Your hands were gentle but professional as you manipulated his shoulder, checking the joint. "This is going to hurt. On three. One... "
You popped it back in on 'one.'
"OW! You said three!"
"People tense up if you count all the way. Better to do it fast." You were already wrapping his shoulder. "Ice for twenty minutes, then heat. No patrol for forty-eight hours."
"I can't take two days off... "
"Yes, you can. Doctor's orders." You met his eyes firmly. "You're no good to the team injured. Rest, recover, come back at full strength."
"Has anyone told you you're kind of intimidating?"
"Yes. Frequently." You almost smiled. "It helps with patient compliance."
"I bet." Dick watched you work, noting the efficiency, the care, despite your brusque manner. "Can I ask you something?"
"You can ask. I may not answer."
"Why are you so... resistant to me?"
Your hands paused for just a second. "Resistant?"
"Everyone else on the team, you're friendly with. Professional, but friendly. With me, you're... different."
You finished the wrapping before answering. "You want the truth?"
"Please."
"You're not taking me seriously." You started putting away supplies. "Everyone else treats me like a medical professional. You treat me like someone to flirt with. To charm. Like, my purpose here is to be impressed by Nightwing instead of doing my job."
"That's not, I don't think that."
"Don't you?" You turned to face him. "First day, you offered to show me around instead of assuming I could handle it. You bring me coffee, flowers, and constant interruptions. You're not trying to work with me, Dick. You're trying to date me."
"Would that be so bad?"
"It is when I'm trying to establish myself on a team of legendary vigilantes and one of them won't stop flirting long enough to see me as a colleague." Your voice was firm but not unkind. "I'm good at my job. Really good. But I can't do my job if you're always in the way."
Dick felt his stomach drop. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize... "
"Now you do." You softened slightly. "Look, you seem nice. Under the charm offensive, there's probably a good person. But I need you to respect my position here first. Can you do that?"
"Yes. Absolutely. I'm sorry."
"Apology accepted." You gestured to his shoulder. "Now go rest. Forty-eight hours, minimum."
Dick left feeling worse than when he'd arrived.
Not because you'd rejected him, because you were right.
Week Four: The Change
Dick stayed away from the med bay unless injured.
He stopped with the coffee and flowers and surprise visits.
He treated you like a colleague in briefings, asking professional questions about injury protocols and medical supplies.
And somehow, that made the falling worse.
Because now he wasn't distracted by trying to impress you.
Now he was distracted by actually seeing you.
The way you stayed calm under pressure during a crisis. How you'd held an injured civilian's hand while treating them, murmuring reassurances. The dry humor you showed once people stopped putting you on a pedestal. Your competence, your dedication, the way you'd stood up to Batman himself about proper medical protocols.
You were amazing.
And Dick was falling. Literally.
"That's the fifth time this month!" Jason said after Dick face-planted during a training exercise. "Are you dying? Is this a tumor? Should we call Constantine?"
"I'm not cursed!"
"Then what's wrong with you?" Tim demanded. "You just tripped over nothing. You don't trip over anything. You're a Flying Grayson!"
"I'm just distracted!"
"By what?" Damian asked suspiciously.
Dick didn't answer.
"Oh my God," Barbara said. "It's the medic, isn't it?"
"NO!"
"It absolutely is." Jason started laughing. "You're so hung up on them that you forgot how to walk!"
"I didn't forget, I just... " Dick groaned. "Yes, okay? Yes. I can't stop thinking about them. And it's affecting my performance. Are you happy?"
"Delighted," Jason said. "This is the best thing that's happened all month."
"You need to fix this," Tim said, more seriously. "You're going to get hurt. Really hurt."
"I know. I just don't know how."
"Have you tried," Barbara suggested, "actually talking to them? Not flirting. Not charming. Just... honest conversation?"
"After I spent three weeks being exactly what they accused me of being? Why would they want to talk to me?"
"Because, despite your recent bout of gravity-related incompetence," Damian said dryly, "you're not actually an idiot. Apologize properly. Then listen."
Week Five: The Fall
The patrol went bad fast.
What should have been a simple robbery became a hostage situation, which became a firefight, which became Dick chasing an armed suspect across Gotham rooftops.
He was focused. He had this. The suspect was tiring, and Dick was closing the distance,Â
Then his mind flashed to you. To something you'd said in the last briefing about proper wound packing. To the way you'd smiled, actually smiled, when Cass had made a joke.
His foot hit the ledge wrong.
The suspect's gunshot went wide.
Dick's grapple line missed.
And then he was falling. Really falling. Three stories into an alley.
He hit hard. Heard something crack. Felt pain explode through his leg and ribs.
"NIGHTWING DOWN!" Oracle's voice was sharp with fear. "Medical to Crime Alley, coordinates transmitting... "
Everything went fuzzy.
He woke up in the med bay, pain radiating through his entire body.
"Don't move." Your voice. Calm, professional, but was that worry underneath? "You have three cracked ribs, a fractured tibia, and a concussion. You're lucky you didn't break your neck."
"Sorry," he mumbled.
"You should be. That was a stupid fall." You appeared in his line of sight, checking his pupils. "What happened up there?"
"Got distracted."
"By what?"
"You."
You went very still. "Excuse me?"
"I was thinking about you. About something you said. About the way you smiled at Cass. And I missed my footing." He tried to laugh, but it hurt. "Pathetic, right?"
"Dick... "
"I know. I know you said you needed me to respect your position. And I have been. Or trying to. But I can't stop thinking about you, and it's literally making me fall off buildings."
You were quiet for a long moment.
"You're on pain medication," you finally said. "We'll talk about this when you're lucid."
"I'm lucid. Drugged, but lucid." He caught your hand. "I'm sorry. For everything. For treating you like a conquest instead of a colleague. For not respecting your boundaries. You were right about all of it."
"Okay."
"But I need you to know, I'm falling for you. Have been since day one. And I don't know how to stop. I don't want to stop. Even if it means I keep literally falling off rooftops."
"That's the concussion talking."
"It's not. It's me. Dick Grayson. Not Nightwing. Just... me. The guy who apparently forgets how to walk when you're around."
You studied him for a long moment, then sighed.
"You're an idiot."
"Yeah."
"You fractured your leg because you were thinking about me smiling."
"Pretty much."
"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard."
"I know."
You sat down on the edge of his bed, carefully avoiding his injuries.
"For the record," you said quietly, "I don't actually hate you. I was just trying to establish boundaries."
"I know. You were right to."
"And you did respect them. This past week, you've been nothing but professional."
"Tried to be."
"It was... nice. Getting to know you as a colleague instead of as Nightwing the Charmer." You smiled slightly. "Turns out under all that, there's a pretty decent person."
"Just decent?"
"Don't push it. You're still on probation." But you were smiling now. "Though I admit, the whole 'literally falling for me' thing is kind of flattering. Stupid, but flattering."
"So what now?"
"Now you heal. Properly. No shortcuts, no early patrol returns. Six weeks minimum."
"That's forever."
"That's the doctor's orders." You squeezed his hand gently. "And when you're healed, and when you can prove you're not going to fall off any more buildings... maybe we can try this again. The getting-to-know-you thing. Properly this time."
"Like a date?"
"Like colleagues who might become friends who might become something more if you can manage to stay vertical." You stood up. "But first, you recover. And you prove to me that you can be around me without losing all sense of spatial awareness."
"Deal." Dick grinned, then winced. "Ow. Smiling hurts."
"Good. Maybe it'll teach you not to fall off buildings." But you were checking his vitals, adjusting his medication, your touch gentle despite your words.
"Can I ask you something?"
"You can ask."
"What made you change your mind? About maybe giving me a chance?"
You were quiet for a moment. "You apologized. You actually listened to what I said and changed your behavior. And then you were honest about how you felt, even though it made you look ridiculous." You met his eyes. "That's not charm. That's real. I can work with real."
"Even if real includes falling off buildings?"
"Especially then. At least I know you'll always need a medic." You headed for the door, then paused. "Get some rest, Dick. I'll check on you in a few hours."
"Hey, Doc?"
"Yeah?"
"Thank you. For everything."
"Just doing my job." But you smiled. That real smile that had gotten him into this mess in the first place.
Worth it, Dick thought as the pain meds pulled him under. Totally worth it.
Even if he did have to spend six weeks off patrol.
Some falls, he decided, were worth the landing.
Six Weeks Later
"Okay," you said, reviewing Dick's chart. "Full mobility restored, strength testing normal, no lingering effects from the concussion. You're cleared for patrol."
"Finally!" Dick hopped off the exam table, carefully, you noted with approval. "I thought I was going to go crazy."
"You did go a little crazy. I have reports of you reorganizing the entire med bay supply closet. Twice."
"I was bored!"
"You also updated all our medical protocols and created a new injury database."
"I said I was bored."
"That's not bored, Dick. That's productive." You signed off on his clearance. "You did a good job. Actually useful."
"So I'm not just a pretty face?"
"You're not just anything. You're complex. Annoying sometimes, but complex." You handed him the clearance form. "Try not to fall off any buildings this time."
"I make no promises. You're standing very close right now, and it's very distracting."
"Dick."
"Kidding! Mostly." He took the form, then caught your hand. "So, about that date?"
"Persistent."
"You said when I was healed and could prove I could be around you without falling. I'm healed. And I'm standing perfectly steady. See? Both feet on the ground."
"So you are." You studied him. "Friday night. Seven PM. And Dick?"
"Yeah?"
"This is not you taking me out to impress me. This is us getting to know each other. As equals. Understand?"
"Absolutely. Totally. One hundred percent." He was grinning now. "Can I at least open doors? Or is that too chivalrous?"
"Doors are fine. Just don't make a production of it."
"Noted. Casual door opening only."
"You're impossible."
"But you like me anyway."
You rolled your eyes, but you were smiling. "Jury's still out on that. Don't make me regret this."
"I won't. I promise. No charm, no games. Just me."
"Good. Because that's who I want to get to know." You squeezed his hand once, then let go. "Now get out of my med bay. I have actual work to do."
"Yes, ma'am."
As he left, you heard him crash into a doorframe.
"I'm okay! That was the building's fault, not mine!"
You laughed, shaking your head.
Dick Grayson. Former Flying Grayson, current Nightwing, future... something.
This was either going to be the best decision you'd ever made or the most complicated.
Probably both.
But watching him trip over his own feet one more time on the way out, then catch himself with perfect acrobatic grace and shoot you a sheepish grin?
Yeah.
Definitely worth it.
Even if you'd probably spend the rest of your career patching him up.
Some patients, you thought with a smile, were worth the extra paperwork.
These Wolves Keep On Scratching At My Heart [Isaac Lahey/Reader] 6/?
Summary: Growing up as a human in the Hale pack wasn't easy, but you wouldn't have traded it for anything. When you're twelve, a fire takes away most of your family, except for your father and two of your cousins. You're adopted by a kind deputy and officially become a part of the Stilinski family since your father can't care for you and your cousins have fled town. You think life can't possibly get any more complicated until you're eighteen and your brother's best friend gets bitten by a rogue alpha out in the preserve. Word Count: 6.2k Author's Note: A lot of really terrible stuff has happened in my life since I last updated this fic, but this is honestly a comfort fic for me to write. So, thank you to everyone who gives this the time of day and encourages me to keep going. Y'all are amazing and I couldn't do this without y'all.
Fic Masterlist // Read On AO3
Chris studied you for a moment before he took a step outside, closing the front door behind him.Â
âYou have thirty seconds to get off my property before I shoot you,â he warned. âYou really donât want to mess with me. Especially not tonight.â
âIâm human,â you snapped, not wanting to give him time to lay out any more threats. You werenât scared of Chris Argent. But if he shot you here and now, then it would leave Derek and your dad without anyone to care for them. It would leave Stiles without a sister and the sheriff without a daughter. It would leave Jackson without a best friend and confidant. You had so much to lose, but you knew you couldnât let anyone lose you as well.Â
Hockey Player!Jason Todd x Figure Skater!Reader
Hockey Player!Jason Todd who was chosen for the American Olympic hockey team and takes it very seriously- much to his older brotherâs dismay. He doesnât focus on the other athletes who arenât on the hockey team. Except for Dick who inserts himself into anything he is doing when he isnât focused on snowboarding.
Hockey Player!Jason Todd who isnât happy when Dick drags him down to the rink on a day when the team isnât competing. He could be doing other things but instead he is being forced to watch a sport he has no interest in.
âCome on Jay! It will be fun! Donât you want to see other athletes?â He had said, pulling Jason into the ice rinkâs entrance.
âNo.â Jason told him gruffly.
He soon gave up fighting his brother since once Dick Grayson got his mind set on something nothing could stop him.
Hockey Player!Jason Todd who sits in the stands to watch the womanâs short program with a scowl and crossed arms as the announcers talk about the first group of skaters up. He watches as the other skaters leave the ring, leaving you in the center of the rink alone. The announcer tells everyone about your program and where you are from. Jason is pleasantly surprised to learn that you also are from Gotham like they are.
Hockey Player!Jason Todd who hears the music start, a light bubbly melody, and watches you start skating. He blinks in surprise as you complete what the announcer says is a âtriple toe loopâ. You are calm but also seem to be egged on by the roar of the crowd that is cheering for you. He is very familiar with that feeling over his years as Gothamâs best left wing forward.
Hockey Player!Jason Todd who is sucked into your routine. He canât help but be impressed by the jumps and spins you pull off. You are strong and grateful in a way Jason is in awe of. He can see the effort you put into each movement and respects it. When the music comes to stop, leaving you with your arms out wide and a heaving chest, Jason mourns that you are only given two minutes to preform.
Hockey Player!Jason Todd who vows to get your number after he wins a gold medal.
A/N - Yes, I watched Womenâs figure skating and this idea struck me like a frisbee to the temple. Also the song reader is skating to is Lover Girl by Laufey.