Tim, walking into the Batcave and noticing everyone’s distraught appearance: What’s wrong?? Who died??
Stephanie: We have bad news Tim. You should sit down.
Tim: Oh shit did someone actually die?? Who was it this time?
Dick: Remember that civilian that we catch trailing after us every so often? The one who was involved in the Penguin incident awhile ago?
Tim: Oh. Clarissa O’Neal? What about her?
Damian: She was taken hostage by one of Black Masks henchmen. We didn’t make it in time to save her.
Tim: ? And that’s why you guys are so upset? C’mon guys lighten up, it’s movie night
Jason, getting visibly pissed: What the Fuck dude. A civilian we were close to fucking died because we didn’t make it in time
Dick: I know you didn’t like her much but show a bit of empathy Timmy. You usually take these situations seriously
Tim: I’ve been trying to kill her off for ages. Why would I be upset??
Steph: Tim you have 10 seconds to fix your attitude before i fix it for you
Jason: Since when do you take people’s lives so lightly? Dude you need to leave before I do something i regret.
Tim: I didn’t know you guys were so attached to her. I could revive her if you want, but honestly it’s more effort than it’s worth. And she was getting unwanted attention from the rogues so she had to go.
Damian: Revive?? Timothy what are you on about? And why are you saying that like you personally set up her demise?
Tim: Because I did? The planning for it took forever but I have to admit everything went a lot better than I was expecting.
Dick: TIM WHAT—
Jason: WHAT THE HELL—
Damian: MURDER? You?!
Steph, screaming over everyone else: WAIT SHUT UP
Steph: TIM NO YOU DID NOT
Steph: TIM DON’T TELL ME YOU DID IT AGAIN
Dick: Again?!? What are you talking about?!
Steph, laughing: Guys calm down. HE was Clarissa
Tim: You guys didn’t know??
Jason: HOW WERE WE SUPPOSED TO KNOW THAT THE HISPANIC LOOKING WOMEN IN HER MID TWENTIES AND A CRIME ALLEY ACCENT WAS YOU
Dick: Tim i am THIS CLOSE to burning down your disguise room.
Damian: Timothy explain yourself
Tim: I had an undercover op that I needed a female field agent for a couple years ago to infiltrate penguins operations. Over time She became a bit too important and Black mask was threatening her. So I decided to kill her off. I got the info I needed already and it was becoming a bit of a drag keeping up appearances
Steph: You need to stop getting us emotionally invested in your aliases and then killing them off. This is the fourth time you did this to me. I’ll never forgive you for Alvin Draper, I still grieve him even though i know you’re alive!
Tim: YOU guys need to start recognizing me in disguise. Worlds greatest detectives MY ASS
Jason: DUDE YOU GAVE YOURSELF DOUBLE D’s WHY WOULD WE ASSUME THAT WAS YOU
Damian: My training in this area has been neglected. Timothy show me your disguise lair
Tim: Sure, after movie night. Let’s go
Dick: This is gonna bite us in the ass. Damian is already so good at impressions. We will never know if someone we are talking to is him or not
Tim: LMAO When i’m done with him? Yea everyone’s fucked
Steph: It’s gonna give Roger from American dad
Bruce from the corner: *Breathes a sigh of relief*
Bruce at the Batcomputer: *Sighs and moves Clarissa O’Neal from ‘Real Civilian Death’ folder to ‘Tim’s Fake Identities’ folder. Creates new folder labeled ‘Damian’s Fake Identities’
Sum: Nightwing is in love with his partner. You. But you're head over heels for your coworker, Dick Grayson. OR miraculous ladybug plot between you and dick.
Content: Fem!reader, no use of y/n, dick is lowkey slow, mentions of violence, some cuss words
Word count: 6k (I was having too much fun)
A/n: This is heavily inspired by miraculous ladybug teheheh. I'm not kidding, HEAVILY inspired. Enjoy!
Dividers by: @aanaws
Line dividers by: @hyuneskkami
"Nightwing! I said left!" Frustrated, you swing you're weapon against the masked man, who managed to dodge but got kicked square in the ribs right after.
"Sweets. I went left, then changed my mind." Nightwing lands beside you with all the charm he can muster in the smirk that creeps onto his face.
You knock out the last goon and sheath your weapons. "This is exactly why I stressed the fact that you losing your comms was gonna ruin our mission!" With a groan, you make your way over to the supply truck and break open the lock.
"Forgive me, m'lady." He bows as he locks his sticks behind his back.
"I'll think on it after we finish the job." As you roll your eyes, Nightwing stands beside you, pulling open the crate. He whistles as you shine a flashlight on the cargo. "So, it was a cover up."
The boxes that littered the space had been destroyed. "Figured. There weren't nearly enough guards here." You bring your hand to your comms, "Oracle, it's a fake."
"Sending the boys after the other cargo. Good work."
"Alright, clean-up is on you." You turn away and throw a wave over your shoulder.
"What!? Why-"
"Finish it and consider yourself forgiven."
Once you got home, you had a few hours to spare before you had to head to work. As you run a hot shower, you grab your briefcase and empty it out on desk. You organize your papers and put them back in the case to look back at in the lab. Once you've showered, you use the rest of the time to get some sleep in before you're back up and working.
The elevator dings as you step into your department's floor and you're greeted again by none other than Dick Grayson. The task force's golden boy.
"Well isn't it my favorite detective!" And you can feel yourself shrink immediately. Dick makes his way over to you. It's 6AM, you cannot find the words to speak to him. Not because he's insufferable, no no, it's actually the complete opposite.
"Officer Grayson." You turn to him with a tense smile as he gets closer. You grip your briefcase tighter because your palms are now already sweating.
His smile is radiant. So is his skin that's so clear it puts your skincare routine to shame. You would call yourself a cheerful person but when it's compared to Dick? You're as gloomy as the Gotham sky.
It's not your fault though. His laugh manages to cut your breath short every time. His presence alone is so intoxicating you doubt you can even process what he's saying.
"I heard some new evidence came in on that case you're working on."
How is he so cheerful this early in the morning?
"I left it in your lab, also left a letter given to you from one of our night-time vigilantes." That snaps your focus back into place.
"A letter?" Had Nightwing made a stop last night after you left? "From who?"
"Nightwing. Know why?" He tilts his head to the side and all you can see is the way his hair falls with the movement. It shines like silk and all you can think of is raking your fingers through it- "You okay?"
"Hm?" You blink up at him absentmindedly, "Uh- right- Yeah. I think I have a vague idea." You fidget with your briefcase before holding it up in front of your chest. "I'll.. I'll get right on it."
He looks down at the case and nods with another one of those annoying blinding smiles, "I'll leave you to it then." You nod back, tense. You hated how he had to awkwardly walk back to his desk as you slowly make your way into your lab.
As you step inside, you let out a huff, "That was so awkward, oh my god." You grip your briefcase tighter and throw it onto your desk. You spot the letter on your desk and snatch it impatiently. With a sigh you rip it open and read over the paper.
Remembered you were working on this case when I ran into you a while back, here's something I found interesting ;p , no need to thank me.
-NW xoxo
You roll your eyes and sigh. "No need to thank me, xoxo- Like I wasn't doing half the work." You grumble to yourself and make your way to the folder placed beside it containing a ziplock bag and a report from one of the officers.
Hours pass by and once your lunch break starts, you're making your way to the lounge where you spot Dick pouring himself a coffee. He looks up and shoots you a smile.
"You look beat." He smiles and you feel yourself tense once his attention lands on you.
"ha ha, yeah long night.." Laughing timidly, you open the fridge to grab your meal.
"Coffee?" He offers and you nearly bang your head against the fridge door. You turn to him and nod a little too quick. Get yourself together!
As he pours you a cup, you find yourself a spot to sit on the couch and open up your snack.
"How's the case coming along?" Dick passes the coffee to you and your heart nearly skips a beat when your hands make the slightest bit of contact.
"There's progress." You manage to say as you place the cup down and avert your gaze. You know if you look into his eyes, you won't be able to hold up this conversation.
"I'm guessing Nightwing was a huge help?"
"Pshh, him? I'll give him a lollipop for his efforts next time." You're glad he's bringing up a topic your familiar with or you fear you would've been stumbling over your words.
Dick raises a brow, "Not a fan I'm guessing?"
Is he a fan? There's no way you just blew it right now.
"Wha- Nightwing? No!- I mean like- yeah. No. I'm a huge fan!"
HIs eyebrows raise as he takes another sip. You definitely ruined it. Fix it!
"I know him actually!" Not like that.
"You do?" Shock written over his features. You tense when your eyes lock with his. Something so familiar and safe within his gaze.
"Yeah, we- you know- He saved me once while I was following a lead." You look away immediately. You feel like a fraud. Yeah, you've met him, but you don't know him like that. Well.. not as the you right now.
"He was also following the same lead... which is also the case I'm working on." Your hands are occupying themselves with the coffee cup as your eyes dart between your snack and coffee.
"Is that why he left a note?" Dick asked. You nod.
"Must be cool to have a vigilante as a partner." He laughs and you try to force one out in attempt to not seem awkward but it comes out strained.
"I wouldn't say that.. just a great help." Cause that sucker should've gave you some credit. You had to save both their asses cause he couldn't tell between his left and right.
"Don't underestimate yourself. I'm sure he thinks you're a great partner! He's providing you with evidence. He seems eager to help." Okay, he definitely was a Nightwing fan.
"Of course! I'll- I'll definitely thank him next time." You say it like it's obvious. "I thank his partner a lot more though. She's always quick to help me whenever." Throwing in some praise wouldn't hurt.
"You worked with her before!?" His genuine shock and curiosity caught you off guard. "You must be collecting these vigilantes like Pokémon cards if she also decides to work with you."
"What do you mean?"
"She's a tough one. She barely works with the GCPD. I admire her work." He says as he stares off into the distance. Me? I work fine with the GCPD. Was me giving them those reports not enou- wait.
"Y-ou what?"
He blinks and turns his focus back to you. You look up at him and he's smiling again.
"I admire her work. Not many do, but I can tell she's just as amazing as, if not more than, Nightwing."
Your lips part in shock. Hearing that from him, you could barely figure out how to process that before you feel a striking hot sensation over your legs. You flinch before realizing you dropped your coffee all over your trousers.
It might as well kill you with it.
Dick curses under his breath and runs to grab you napkins. He passes you some as he wipes the remaining liquid off the floor.
"Sorry! Sorry... I can't believe I dropped that." The embarrassment is eating you alive and Dick can't help but laugh.
"It's fine, it happens. You okay?"
You sigh in defeat and nod.
That night on patrol, you couldn't wait to go home and sink into your sheets.
"Done for the night, bubblegum?"
Nicknames were never ending with Nightwing; Bubblegum, Sweets, Sweetheart, hon, the list goes on. You eventually accepted it and moved on.
"We agreed that one was a no." You groan as you watch the streets below you. You've been patrolling for a few hours now. Sooner or later, you're going to wrap it up and go home. But of course, company awaits you.
"Something about it suits you. Sugary, bubbly, and so sticky I can't get rid of you." He takes a seat beside you and you roll your eyes.
"That would be you, Wing." You tease.
Even though you and him have never revealed your identities, you've built a bond that seems to be unshakable. Sure, you guys had your moments, but you two honestly couldn't think of working with anybody else. That meant that even though you were in somewhat of a shitty mood, he still managed to lift it.
"If you want to reverse the roles, I have no complaints." He raises his arms in defense and you sigh. "Who burst your bubble, sweets?" He bumps his shoulder into yours, gaining your attention.
"Just a long day."
"How long are we talking?"
"Long enough."
With that you lay your head on his shoulder. This is how you usually finish up your patrols. A sign that you two were about to close in for the night.
"I handed over some evidence from the truck last night to GCPD. Their head detective is working on it, so I thought it would be some help." He mentions and you hum in response.
"As long as you're aren't feeding them everything we know, I don't really care."
"That's a relief. I thought you'd give me the Robin treatment." He chuckled.
"That was entirely different! I know Robin was just starting the whole gig but no one told him that we don't tell the GCPD everything!?" You shouted in defense.
"He said he saw you do it!"
"I did it once! And I spoke to Gordon! Not some random cop!"
Nightwing's shoulders shake as he laughs, and you lift yourself off of them, trying to push down the smile creeping onto your face.
"Batman gave him a long talk after that one. Trust me."
"He's lucky I didn't."
"You had a sword fight-"
"He pulled it out first, Wing! And you know that!" You exaggerated.
"He was 11!"
"And trying to kill me!"
Nightwing throws his head back, laughing so hard all his pearly whites flash in your face. You glare at him and let out a laugh disguised as a scoff.
Moments like these with him were comforting. You felt like yourself when you were in this suit, fighting crime, and with him. You don't think anyone has managed to get this close to you. But that's the thing about him. He's a dickhead sometimes for sure, but you're always reminded why he's your best friend. You wondered in times like these, who was under the mask. Would it be some normal guy working a 9-5 on weekdays? A celebrity? Or worse, some weirdo-
Nightwing calls out to you, and you realize you've been staring. "What's on your mind? You seem distracted."
"Some... guy." You mention as you turn to look back at the street below.
"Woah-ho-ho! Who's the lucky fella?" You cringe at that.
You glance at him and decide if you should tell him or not. He's your best friend, after all. He'd probably think Dick was a great guy. Maybe even help you figure out how to talk to him. But you couldn't risk revealing anything with it came to your civilian lives.
"Wouldn't you like to know, Boy Wonder." You tease with a smirk.
"I'm calling it a night. Call me if you need me before I get home." You grab your grappling hook and hop off the building.
As you swing away, thinking it was a just another normal night. You failed to notice the face of your partner after your remark.
Nightwing watched as you disappeared off into the night. Conflicted.
Nightwing has always held you dear to him. More than a friend. Ever since the first patrol you had together, you've been his first and last thought every day. I mean, could you blame him? Look at you.
From the moment you introduced yourself to him, he was awestruck. He could've sworn careless whisper was playing in the distance. He thinks he also stuttered. Not like he remembers what he said, he was too distracted. That's also how he ended up with a bruise to his side after. You scolded him for being so careless. But he knew he was hooked.
What was he supposed to do with that information now? There was a guy. A guy! If he didn't know any better, he'd think you're fucking with him. But the way you looked at him when he had asked. That longing stare.
He couldn't help but think, was it him?
As your finish up some paperwork, you hear a knock on your door. "Come in!"
It's Dick. Again. What is up with this Peter luck your having?
"Officer Grayson, what brings you here?" You get up from your seat as he once again, grins and holds up a folder. You maneuver your way around your desk, meeting him halfway.
"New evidence. This time, it was Red Robin." He hands you the folder and you take it cautiously. "That's the 3rd vigilante this week. You're gonna have me wondering if you're one of them."
Well, shit.
"As if. I need my 8 hours." You try to play it off. Terribly. Normally, you're great at that. But clearly not in front of him. You open the file and smile to yourself. "Gotta love that kid."
Dick peeks over and asks, "What is it?"
You look up and realize he's much closer now. Frozen in place, he glances up at you and your lungs nearly collapse on you.
Nothing could've prepared you for this. His eyes.
Such a piercing baby blue that replicates the rare clear skies Gotham prays for. They shine with confidence, determination, and something deeper, you wish you could figure out.
Does he know how much his presence suffocates you? How his character is so overwhelmingly admirable you can't help but feel smaller next to how bright he shines?
"J-just.. a case." You show him the paper and he looks down at it like he wasn't inches away from your face a moment ago.
"That's quite the report."
Trying to regain your composure, you nod. Making your way back to behind your desk.
"Red Robin is quite the detective. I did him a few favors. He does me some." Trying to make yourself look busy, you start digging through your papers.
"It seems like you have a way with everyone, detective." He smirks and you don't give yourself the opportunity to glance at him.
"I would hope so, officer." Still digging through piles of paper.
Dick notices the way you avoid his gaze. He's always hated that.
You've always been uncomfortable around him. He can't help but feel like he's the reason why. Everyone has met the fun, witty, and outgoing side of you besides him. You were always tense, quiet, and distant when he tried to talk to you.
He's tried jokes, small talk, even small favors and every time you came in contact with each other, it was like you couldn't wait for him to leave. He's realizing maybe it was no use.
"I'll leave these here then.." He places the files down on the desk and you nod in acknowledgement. Taking that as his sign to leave; Dick walks himself out.
Once the door closes, you finally look up before you fall against your chair, slapping your hands over your face from the mere thought of how that interaction just went. Before the humiliation can eat you alive, the door opens again. You straighten in your seat in a hurry only to spot your friend at the door. Barbara.
"Was Dick just in your office?"
"Yeah, you saw?" Groaning as you slump back into your chair.
"No, you just look like you ruined your life and want the floor to swallow you whole."
"Just about right."
Patrol tonight was quick and easy. Basic robberies, thugs, the whole gig. Once you've done a few laps, you decide to call it a night before spotting NIghtwing on a nearby roof. Without a second thought you make your way over to him.
"Done for the night, bubblegum?" You mock as he turns to you with a shit-eating grin.
"You gonna chew me out if I am?" He says with his hands placed on his hips.
"Depends. You got anything useful?" You nod your head towards him as you look him over with a squint.
"Depends, you got time for one more stop?"
Your face scrunches up in confusion. "Is it a follow up on the toxin?"
"No, but follow me." With that he reaches out for your hand, you take it without a second thought before he pulls you in, throws you two down the building before aiming his grappling hook towards another one.
"It's best if you close your eyes!" He adds, sparking curiosity.
"Don't drop me, bridie!" You laugh as you shut your eyes and let him drag you wherever.
Once you two land, you want to peak but his hands immediately go to shut your eyes.
"Impatient as ever." With his remark, you scoff.
"I'm not going to peak!" You exclaim as he holds one hand over your eyes and does something in the other. He scoffs like that's the dumbest thing he's heard.
"yeah, and I'm not head over heels for you."
Then, a pause. You can feel tension start to rise and quickly, so you exhale dramatically and place your hands over his palm. "I'll keep them closed, Wing." Though, he doesn't let go. His palm remains there. Another pause.. "I won't look till you tell me to."
You stand there quietly as he finishes up, god knows what, and you hear him take a deep breath. "Open 'em." You barely miss it. So, you open your eyes slowly.
"Oh wow." Your lips part in awe.
There, on the rooftop, sits two pillows on the floor. The most adorable setup of snacks, a pair of controllers, and a picnic blanket. The area is dimly lit by the rooftop's yellow lighting, creating a warm atmosphere even in the cold ambience of Gotham.
"Wing, I don't know what girl you're trying to impress, but, trust me," You turn to him, smiling at the thought of his efforts. "You've got this in the bag."
And once he makes eye contact, you're smile almost faltered.
He scratches the back of his neck and rolls his head to the side. "Impessed is one thing."
Then, when he looks back at you, you fail to hold your grin.
"Do you like it?" He asks and you look back at the set up.
He didn't get the wrong idea last night, right? No. There was no way. You're overthinking this. This is just a sweet gesture. Nothing more.
"Yeah! It's amazing!" You quickly reply. Turning back to him with a small, close lipped smile. "What's it for?"
You didn't want to ask. Not really. You actually wanted to just play along and hope your intuition was wrong for once.
But, it never was. "You?"
"Me?"
"Yeah, you.."
"Me?" You pointed at yourself.
"Yes.. you. Your record player break or something?" He attempts a laugh, but you're looking back and forth between him and the setup.
"What for?" You ask. You're trying hard not to sound off. It's not what you think it is. There's no way.
Nightwing just stares. His answer is written all over his face.
Okay, you really wish you weren't too comfortable with him to let your face fall like that. It would've saved you the guilt of watching him realize you knew what he was insisting. And you were rejecting it.
The wind blew by, carrying the last bit of hope left.
"Nightwing-"
"Damn, you're never gonna let me live this down now." He laughs as he rolls his head against his shoulder. "I called it, but I blame Oracle for the push." He pointed before making his way over to the setup.
You stand there blankly. Confused, you follow him. "Wing, listen to me, I'm sorry-"
"What for?" He turns, a smirk plastered on his lips. You can tell he's hurt. Shit..
"Wing, I feel bad. I didn't mean to lead you on." And he nearly cringes at that.
"That." He points, "is my issue. Not yours. You didn't do anything wrong, swee-.. don't blame yourself." And your heart nearly shatters at the way he cut himself off from that nickname.
"Do you wanna talk? You know this doesn't bother me like that. I just.. there's already someone I like.." Nightwing may have thought you didn't notice it, but you did. The way his body tensed. Even in the slightest of movements.
"I would be lying if I didn't tell you. That's the last thing I want. You're important to me. I'd never want to lose you to anything. You're my best friend, Wing." He smiles at that and for a second. You feel like it's going to be alright. This wasn't as bad as you thought.
He then goes to grab one of the snacks from the pile, specifically your favorite. He takes a step towards you. Then another. And another. Till he's face to face and he's pressing the snack into your hands.
"This is enough. Our friendship is everything to me. I wouldn't trade it for the world."
And in that moment, you saw someone else.
This wasn't your partner. It was a man who was devoted to keeping what he held dear close to him. One who longs for an inevitable future he can't help but reach for.
And you were the setting it in stone.
"Wing-"
"Good night. I'll see you tomorrow!" With that, he's running past you, off into invasive fog that took over the streets.
With no idea where to start, you turn around and make your way back home.
"Barbara, I told you-"
"She literally is head over heels for you! I'm telling you! I can't take any more hours of flirting over the comms, only for you to tell me she doesn't like you!" Barbara shouts over the phone. Dick groans into his pillow dramatically.
"I ruined everything."
"No, you didn't."
"Barbara."
"You didn't! I promise."
"I'm going to sleep."
"Trust me on t-" he hangs up before she finishes.
That went horribly. Not only did he leave you there stranded. He completely cut you off and made the situation so much more awkward than it needed to be.
He can't believe he let Barbara convince him into doing that. He should've just asked you out normally instead of throwing that in your face. And then you tried to apologize. Of course you did.
He checks the time and shoves his head into the pillow once he realizes he needs to get some sleep.
He's never gonna come back from this.
"Barbara. Where is this coming from-"
"Girl, you have to ask him. Today is the day, I can feel it!" Barbara sits across your desk. Exaggerating over why you should ask out Officer Grayson today.
"Barb. I love you. Like a lot. You're one of the very few I trust. But I am not doing that."
"Doing what?" Yeah. Might as well add a radioactive spider at this point.
"Just your luck!" Barbara turns to Dick is waking through the open door with a boxes in his hands. He walks over and places them on your desk.
He's wearing a baby blue button-up today instead of his usual uniform. Sleeves rolled up. He has sneakers on. Which has you confused; why was his outfit so uncoordinated? You wonder why, but before you can think about it, they both are staring at you. Realizing you blanked out and missed out on what was said.
"Sorry, did you say something?" You ask.
"I was just telling Officer Grayson how you wanted to ask him something!" Barbara beamed.
This little minx. You're glaring at her, already planning to lock the brakes on those wheels.
Dick looks back at you, waiting for a reply, and you can only dig your eyes into the back of Barbara's head as she leaves.
Dick looks down at the papers on your desk and you follow his line of sight.
"These are still the same ones from last week. Nothing new." You wave them off as he nods. He's unusually quiet. You finally take in the way he's put together. Well.. not really. His hair is a slight mess. No color coordination in his outfit what so ever. and.. was that a stain on his button up? Why wasn't he in uniform today?
"You alright?" You ask before thinking.
Dick looks up at you and sighs. He knows he looks like shit, mostly because he feels like it. Though it's the first time you've genuinely asked him something. "Rough night, but I'll be okay."
"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that." You sort of try to look away but end up asking another question. "What's that?" Implying the boxes he had just brought in.
"Chief told me to bring these up and have you look through them. No idea what they are. I'm off the field today, so he's keeping me busy."
"He wants me to look through all of these?" You exaggerated before pulling the box over to your side, mumbling under your breath. "That guy seriously likes to throw things at me because I won't get an assistant."
That perked his interest. "Why not?"
That gets your attention again. You seem to get sidetracked easily. "Oh- um. I just work alone.. It's annoying having someone try to push their rules onto you." You shrug as you pull the stacks of files from the box.
"You don't work well with partners?" He asks. And you wonder if he meant something with that question. But, you only shake you head. "I work fine with other people. It just depends on who." Like Nightwing. You frown slightly at that.
"Mind if i help?" Your head perks up. You weren't expecting him to offer.
"You- You don't have to!"
"No, I want to. Like I said, I'm off the field today. I have nothing better to do." He pulls the chair towards him and takes a seat. "You just give me a job and I'll do it."
And with that, you and him work in tandem for the next 3 hours. It was unexpected but Dick worked well with you. He understood his assignments, didn't ask too many questions, and managed to have some conversations that didn't end with you embarrassing yourself. Well.. yet.
"That's the last of them." You place the papers back into the boxes and turn to Dick.
He was pleasantly surprised how much he enjoyed that. He felt like he actually got a glimpse of the real you today. And you work great together. He couldn't help but wonder why you always avoided him.
"Thanks for the help. I appreciate it."
He nods. "Glad to help." And when he hopes to maintain eye contact for longer than 5 seconds, you're already turning away again. And he can't help but feel like all the process he made with you had went to waste.
"I'll take these back to the office.. Need anything else before i head out?" You turn to him with a smile and shaking your head.
"No, all good." And back behind your desk you go. He deflates at that. He was hoping you'd be more comfortable around him after today. But he guesses his luck was shitty this week.
He doesn't wait any longer and makes his way to the door before you call his name.
"How does coffee together sound? After work?"
He had patrol and no idea if his partner would show up.
Cause why would she? After the shit he pulled last night? He's starting to remember why he was so beat today.
"Dick?" You call again and he snaps out of it quick, quickly replying.
"Yeah, uh- No, sorry. Thanks though." He gives a quick smile before leaving the room. He's a bit annoyed with himself now, because he managed to ruin two friendships in under 24 hours. He would love to go for coffee, but he'd rather not go in a bad mood. He'll reschedule. Today just wasn't his day.
And now neither was it for you. As you watch the door shut behind him, you stand there dumbfound.
He just flat out rejected you. Without even a second thought. You can't help but feel yourself shrink after. You really thought you did well today. You were able to carry out multiple conversations with him. Even maintain eye contact for like 4 whole seconds!
This shouldn't bother you that much. You weren't even close. But still, you slump against your chair and stare off into the void hoping you could rid the feeling of dread that built up with every passing second.
That night, you started patrol early and ended early. Why? Because like it or not, you were avoiding Nightwing. It wasn't because you were too afraid to face him, more because you didn't have the energy to. That whole rejection ruined your night.
So, as you stand at your balcony, staring off into the streets of the city that reflected your mood tonight, you hold a cup of tea in your hands. One thing about Gotham was that there was always going to be a slight breeze in the air, a faint scent of rain, and a drafty fog that carried only in the darkest of nights. Was it a good idea to go out onto your balcony this late? No, and you would advise any person to avoid doing so.
But you're a vigilante. So, you give yourself a pass.
But, not everyone knows that.
"I wouldn't recommend sitting out here in the open this late, miss."
Only one person could sneak up on you like that. And it was Nightwing.
Slightly flinching, you turn to him and place your cup on the tiny coffee table. "And I wouldn't try to balance myself on a slippery railing in the dark."
"I'm a vigilante. I get a pass." He places his hands on his hips, all cocky.
"I'm a citizen who pays rent. I get to use this balcony however and whenever I want." You mimic his gesture and he raises a brow at you.
"Aren't you a little sass ball today? You're usually a little more professional when we meet." You drop your arms after that and sigh.
Even though you weren't in your suit, you needed your best friend right now. And it was much easier talking like this to him than worrying about how awkward things can get.
With all your frustration that piled up since this afternoon, you groan, "It was a total disaster!"
Nightwing looks around in confusion. "What exactl-"
"I was doing great! We laughed for hours! I didn't stutter or shy away the whole time we worked!" Nightwing watched as you threw your arms around with every sentence. He stood there in silence, not knowing how he got wrapped up in hearing your outrage, but he was intrigued. He's never seen this side of you. Was it because you weren't around him anymore?
"Then he just walked out and rejected me like it was noth..ing.." Your words died down as your heart sank. This was how he was probably feeling right now. And here you are complaining to him about another guy.
"Sorry. Ignore me." You put your hand up. He doesn't ignore you.
"Rejected you? Now, what idiot decided to ruin his chances at paradise?" He attempted to lighten the mood, now sitting on the railing as you pick up your cup of tea. You were used to his flirts. Well. vigilante you was.
You didn't have it in you to argue over his flirts. You knew it was his nature at this point. "Some guy at work." You rest your elbows against the railing beside him, and he stares at you, urging you to go on.
"He's an officer. The one you gave the letter to."
"Officer Grayson?" He spits out almost shocked and you nod in embarrassment. Your head drops and you rest the cup against your forehead.
"I've liked him for so long. And believe it or not, I'm the most awkward person when it comes to him." Nightwing doesn't reply, so you continue. "I actually mustered up the courage to ask him out today, and he completely shut me down without a second thought!"
Nightwing blanks for a moment. You were asking him out!?
"No he didn- he probably didn't mean it like that!"
"He immediately told me no and walked out the room. I think he meant it like that, Nightwing." You tilt your head to the side, squinting at him.
"I doubt it. He told me he thought you were cool!"
"Cool is fine! He doesn't like me like that though!"
"You don't know that!" He argues.
"You do?" And that shuts him up quick. No, he didn't like you like that. But he didn't like knowing you thought he was rejecting you. Even if he was being a bit of a dickhead this afternoon.
"Sorry. You're right. But I think you should just talk to him about it." You pull the cup away from your forehead and take a sip.
"If it helps, I also got rejected too." He chuckles as you nearly choke on your tea.
"R-Really?"
"Yeah.. I kind of threw it in her face, though. It was a lot less casual than just a basic hangout. I guess I overwhelmed her. But I got the wrong idea and she had to reject me on the spot." He covers his face with a hand before dragging it down. "I was hoping to talk to her, but I guess she needs to clear her head."
"I think we all do at this point." You sigh before taking another sip. "Not much you can do in Gotham to get a clear head around here." Nightwing hums in agreement.
You both sit in a comfortable silence. A minute passes by and you take one last sip of your tea before exhaling.
"I guess I should head inside and try to fix my mood before it gets late."
"Yeah, I should too..." He agrees.
And as you make your way to get back inside, he says your name.
plot! you got your wisdom tooth removed which caused you a lot of pain and the only thing you crave is your boyfriend and his cuddles, which he can't refuse to give you
a/n: thank you so much for the request sweetie i loved this akncjsjd
The door clicks softly behind him as Jason shoulders it shut, the late afternoon light spilling through the blinds and cutting the apartment into warm stripes of gold. His helmet hangs from his fingertips, the red sheen dulled from the day’s patrol. He’s still in his black tactical pants and undershirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, a faint streak of soot marking his jaw. He looks like the city itself, rough, tired, but alive. And tonight, his entire focus isn’t on Gotham. It’s on you.
You’re curled up on the couch under one of his hoodies, cheeks flushed from pain and exhaustion. The ice pack on your jaw has long since melted into a damp towel, and your eyes blink sluggishly when you hear his boots hit the floor.
“Hey, baby” he murmurs, voice low, like he’s afraid too much sound might hurt you. He tosses his keys on the counter, then crosses the room in three long strides. “How’s my brave little soldier holding up?”
You squint at him, lips puffed from the surgery, and try to speak, but it comes out as a soft, slurred groan that sounds more like “hurts…” than actual words. Jason chuckles under his breath, the sound warm and fond, and sinks to one knee beside you. His gloved fingers ghost along your hairline, brushing stray strands from your forehead.
“Yeah, I can see that” he says softly, thumb tracing your temple. “You look like you fought Killer Croc and lost.”
You huff, half whimper, half offended noise, and Jason’s grin widens, the kind of boyish curve that always pulls dimples into his cheeks. “Oh, don’t give me that face” he teases, leaning closer. “Still pretty as ever. Even all loopy.”
You mumble something incoherent, something about not feeling pretty, and Jason’s teasing fades instantly.
His gaze softens. He presses a slow kiss to your temple, lingering there. “Hey. Don’t start that” he murmurs, his voice gentler now. “You’re the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen, even with chipmunk cheeks. Hell, I think it’s unfair how cute you look right now.”
You blink at him, eyes watery from both the pain and the swelling, and he sees that little tremble in your lip before it even happens. His hands are on you in an instant, thumbs brushing over your jaw but careful not to touch the sore spots.
“Hey, no, no crying” he whispers, pulling you forward into his chest. “C’mere, sweetheart. You’re okay.”
Your arms go weakly around him, face pressed into the soft cotton of his shirt. He smells like soap and gun oil and leather, but beneath it all there’s the familiar comfort of Jason, warm skin, safety, and something that feels like home.
You mumble something against him that sounds like, I’m tired, Jay, and he hums low in his throat, that deep, soothing rumble that vibrates against your ear.
“I know, baby” he says, rubbing slow circles into your back. “You’ve had a rough day. I got you.”
When you shift, wincing, he slides an arm under your knees and another behind your back, lifting you effortlessly. You make a small noise of protest, but Jason just smiles and kisses your forehead. “Relax. I’m just moving you to bed, okay? Couch’s no place for my girl to rest.”
He carries you into the bedroom, the city glow painting him in gold and shadow as he moves. You’re half-asleep by the time he lays you down, the mattress dipping under your weight. He tugs the blankets up around you, then disappears for a moment, returning with a glass of water, a fresh ice pack, and the little bottle of painkillers the doctor prescribed.
“Alright” he murmurs, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Time for your meds, sweetheart. Open up for me.”
You obey, slow and clumsy, and he slips the pill into your mouth, following it with water. He steadies the glass with one hand and wipes a stray drop from your chin with the other. You can’t help but giggle faintly when his thumb brushes your skin, part ticklish, part tender.
“There she is” he says, smiling. “There’s my girl.”
He sets the glass aside, then gently tucks the fresh ice pack against your cheek. You whimper again when the cold hits, and he shushes you softly. “I know, I know. Just a bit. Helps with the swelling, promise.”
You reach for him with a clumsy hand, your fingers finding the edge of his sleeve. Jason doesn’t hesitate, he slides in beside you, letting you burrow into him. His arm comes around your waist, pulling you against his chest, the solid warmth of him chasing away the ache a little.
You can feel his heartbeat under your ear. slow, steady, grounding.
“You’re not gonna patrol again tonight?” you murmur, words fuzzy from sleep.
“Nah,” he says immediately, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Not a chance. Gotham can handle itself for one damn night. You’re stuck with me, babe.”
You smile, eyes fluttering closed. “Lucky Gotham…”
He huffs a quiet laugh. “Lucky me, more like it.”
For a long moment, neither of you speak. He just holds you, fingers tracing slow paths along your arm, his lips occasionally finding your hairline, your cheek, the curve of your jaw where it doesn’t hurt. He kisses you like he’s afraid you’ll break, soft and reverent, as if each press of his lips is meant to take some of the pain from you.
When you start to drift again, he whispers against your skin, “You did good today, baby. I know it hurts, but you’re gonna be okay. You’re tough as hell.”
Your breathing slows. Jason feels the exact moment your body melts fully into sleep, when your fingers, tangled in his shirt, finally go slack. He exhales, long and quiet, resting his chin atop your head.
He stays like that for a while, listening to the hum of the city beyond the window. Eventually, he pulls back just enough to look at you. Even half-swollen and groggy, you’re beautiful in a way that makes his chest ache. He reaches out, brushing a thumb down your cheek.
“Y’know,” he murmurs softly, even though you’re already gone to sleep, “I’d fight a thousand damn tooth fairies if it’d keep you from hurting.”
A faint smile ghosts across your lips, as if your dreaming mind somehow hears him. Jason chuckles under his breath, kisses you again, one more, slow and lingering, just above your temple, and then he settles back against the pillows, arm firm around you.
You shift instinctively, curling closer, and he hums quietly, half-lidded eyes tracing your features in the dim light.
When the ice pack slips, he catches it before it hits the bed, adjusts it gently, and presses a soft kiss to your jaw right beside it.
“I got you” he whispers again, barely audible. “Always.”
And as the city outside moves on, sirens distant, wind brushing the curtains, Jason lies still, holding you close, every breath he takes syncing with yours. No Red Hood. No Gotham. Just him and you.
just warning you in case but the person who did the ranking on batfam authors is back on tumblr and will probably do it again judging by their last post and the fact "one of the authors" supposedly said that they did nothing wrong. just letting you know not trying to start drama i just believe you deserve to know and be prepared just in case! i love you and your work and i hope you're doing ok please take care of yourself 🫶🏾
Announcement to all the Writers in the Yandere Batfam Tag
Do you remember the person who made the tierlist? The A-F ranking of plenty of the writers who wrote for the Neglected Reader trope? They are back to probably posting unnecessary criticism about writers, tagging them, and posting it in the main tag sooner or later. Read screenshots below:
I have no other words for this. Honestly, dragging my name to the dirt for something I can't control (and in my defense, I credited gotham-daydreams in my prequel alongside multiple other writers, I have never claimed to be the original or accurate to the comics— I haven't done anything other than posting what I've written. The fact that my fanfic is the one to get popularized is not something I control and not something I should be blamed for), when in reality I'm glad A&A got the recognition despite all the negativity surrounding it. Because it at least inspired new writers to post their own renditions, it made new stories branching out of the contained trope, and there has been an active, small but supportive, community who've all been there for each other.
I made this post because truly, I don't want this beloved niche to die down.
It's all just so reminiscent of what happened with the burn book incident in the JJK writing community. Where something as small as one person allowing others a platform to anonymously post their hate stirred a chain of writers to quit, deactivate, and lose their passion for writing. So my point is: If you see this blog, don't even try to entertain their bull anymore and just report them for harassment and hard block them. Giving them the illusion of power just makes them want to create more drama the longer you interact with said person.
As for writers, I feel it's my part to also warn you guys to turn off anonymous submissions for a while as I have if you're prone to being hurt easily. There's a massive wave of harassment and hate anons I've been receiving in my inbox — AI accusations, entitled anon messages, death threats, and so many more it's disgusting— that you're going to think they all come from the same person or a group of it at least. This has happened before last year, I'm afraid that it's happening again now.
That's really all. I have no other point to make because I already pointed them in all my previous posts. For anyone reading this, please take care and don't let all the hate get to your head because at least you have a life! These haters don't <3
I'll be tagging all my friends and writers I know down below. Don't be afraid to do so too!
Summary: A small look into the psyche of Bruce Wayne
WARNINGS: Denial, unhinged behavior
A/N: I had intended for Bruce to go and consult the JL for brainwashing and have them make fun of him for having a crush, but I spared him the embarrassment… for now
Part 2 / Currently Reading / Part 4
Bruce Wayne considered himself a very logical man.
Someone who rarely gave in to his emotions and analyzed every situation before making a choice. Someone who seldom lets the whims and actions of others affect him.
Someone who, by all means, should not believe in love at first sight.
Yet, as he stood in that window, watching her shield his child from harm, refusing to give in to fear, and completely focused on comforting his child in the face of potential death… he was sure he was deeply and irrevocably in love.
When the gunshot rang out and a bullet embedded itself in her thigh, he felt himself overtaken by a wave of protective energy.
This woman, normal by all means, untrained, and completely out of her depth, shielding his children with her body.
A helpless woman, using everything she had to protect a child she doesn’t even know.
Suddenly, Bruce was no longer in that small, Crime Alley apartment.
He was in Ethiopia.
He was watching as Jason died in front of him, absolutely helpless to do anything.
He was holding Barbara as she grieved over the life she could have led.
He was that little boy who watched his parents being murdered in front of him.
Bruce was terrified.
Yet, he still kept moving. Kept reminding himself that he is no longer helpless.
He wasn’t sure how long it took to finish the fight. Bruce’s mind had practically stalled completely, working on pure muscle memory and instinct.
“B!” The sound of Nightwing’s voice broke the spell that had fogged his mind. He had autopilot to start working on stopping the woman’s bleeding, tearing up fabric sheets to create a makeshift tourniquet.
“We need to get her to Leslie. From what Robin’s described of the attack, she clearly has at least one broken rib, and by the bruising, I would wager a broken collarbone.”
Nightwing was attempting to pull Robin away from the woman with little success. He had obviously been traumatized by the entire incident. He claimed it was out of a sense of duty that he couldn’t leave until he ensured her safety, but Batman wasn’t deaf. He heard Robin call out to the woman, referring to her as his mother.
Batman wanted to attribute it to a traumabond. A connection forged in the heat of danger.
That was until he saw the footage.
After much arguing and promising to visit the woman in their civilian identities, he finally persuaded Robin to come to the Batcave to get treated.
The entire brood gathered in front of the Batcomputer, all in shock and awe at how gentle and calm the woman was while treating Damian.
“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I know it must hurt so much.”
“You may not be able to hear me, but I want you to know that you’re safe. You can rest.”
“Batman will be here soon… Stay strong for me…”
A strange feeling settled in the brood. Like a switch flipped and an indescribable need washed over them. Everyone was silent as the same thought entered their minds.
“So…” All heads turned to face Jason, who never took his eyes off the screen. “Are we making her our mom or what?”
Just like that, everyone started moving at once.
“Just booked a cleaning service and a window replacement for her apartment.”
“Wait, shouldn’t I have a-”
“Why don’t we just move her into the manor?”
“There is no way we can get her to move in that quickly; this needs to be a carefully thought-out operation.”
“Alfred is already preparing a gift basket.”
“Now just wait a minute, I-”
“She has a coffee shop on ##### street, but only has two employees. Tim, can you-”
“Already on it. Multiple job postings just went out, and I already calculated benefits and a wage increase.”
Bruce let out a deep sigh. Despite his protests, he knew it was impossible to argue with his children once they had their minds set on something.
It wasn’t as if he wasn’t also drawn in by the woman. Her features had been burned into her eyelids, and her devotion had stirred an emotion within him that he couldn’t describe.
He already had a file on her prepared by Oracle, but he’d never say that to any of the kids out loud. He wasn’t obsessed after a singular encounter.
He was merely… curious.
Grateful for her dedication to the safety of his child.
Appreciative of the way her curves-
No.
He wasn’t obsessed.
A mantra he repeated over and over into the late hours of the night as he read through her file. Searching for anything that would make her suspicious, because if she was suspicious, he’d be forced to view her as a threat.
Forced to completely abandon his obsession curiosity.
Yes… that was the reason…
Nothing more.
It had been two weeks since you met the first Wayne child. Two weeks since your life had been turned upside down in a string of strange occurrences.
There was at least one that visited every day.
Sometimes they were there to chat and play.
Othertimes they seemed content to just stay in your presence for a while.
Something you noticed, however, was that they were horrendous with communication despite how in sync they all were.
After the third time Damian appeared in your apartment during school hours, you were gifted their butler, Alfred’s number.
The rest of the children’s numbers simply appeared in your phone, courtesy of Tim’s lack of boundaries.
(Not that you minded much. You only had a couple of contacts in your phone anyway.)
They added you to a group chat with the entire household (Sans Alfred for obvious reasons) and integrated you into their banter like you’d been there their whole life.
Yet somehow, despite it all, you hadn’t run into the supposed father of your kids. You’re honestly weren’t even sure he was aware of your existence until you came home from a check-up one day and found a very expensive gift basket and the most beautiful bouquet you’ve ever seen sitting right on your dining room table.
You found it best to try not to think about how any of the Waynes kept finding their way into your home. You were almost positive they’d made copies of your keys, but you had yet to catch any of them in the act of actually unlocking the door.
There was a note, short, sweet, and to the point.
“Thank you for all you’ve done for my children.” Short. Sweet. And to the point.
Exactly how the children described him.
The kids talked about their father constantly. Praise rolled off their tongue just as naturally as their playful scorn. It was to the point that you may not have spoken to the man much, but it wasn’t as if you could say you didn’t know much about him.
From what you could tell, ‘Brucie’ was a media persona. The rule Bruce was very awkward with affection and terrible at verbal communication. They constantly complained that he grunted more than he spoke at home.
So when it took you over a month to actually speak to the man. You weren’t surprised at all.
“Imee. I require your signature.”
Damian pulled out a homemade birthday card.
“Father’s birthday is next week, and I would prefer for our gift to be a collaboration.”
“Aww, Damian, are you sure? I haven’t actually had a conversation with him yet. I wouldn’t want to hijack your gift.”
Damian just scoffed as if you just said the dumbest thing in the world and shoved the card into your hands again.
“Tt. Don’t be foolish. Your collaboration in this project is essential.” Despite his nonchalant attitude, you saw the small blush that tinted his cheeks and sighed affectionately.
“You know I have such a hard time saying no to you, Ammouri. Of course, I’ll sign this card for you.”
“Perfect. Now come along, we need to purchase you appropriate attire.” Damian dragged you out of the apartment before you had time to protest.
“Whoa! Where are we going? Attire for what?”
“For the birthday Gala. You can’t possibly expect to attend in any of your current attire.”
You barely had time to greet Alfred before this unnaturally strong 11-year-old shoved you into the back seat.
“Gala? What gala?”
“Father’s birthday gala.”
Once again, this small child sent your mind reeling with new information.
Communication. How hard is communication
“Why would I attend your father’s birthday Gala? I haven’t even met the man.”
Batman may claim to have no powers, but Green Lantern knows better. He’s convinced that Batman’s cape is sentient.
Green Lantern has observed it on quiet nights in the Watchtower, when Batman thinks no one’s paying attention. He releases control over his cape, letting it unravel and float menacingly around him in different directions. It moves on its own, sweeping across nearby surfaces, carelessly knocking over items.
There’s one thing Green Lantern knows for sure—Batman’s cape has a sweet tooth. Every time Batman passes the candy bowl, it’s mysteriously emptied.
Even stranger, it seems to influence other capes. Once, while Batman was talking to Superman, their capes briefly touched, and Green Lantern saw Superman’s cape come to life—swirling and fluttering as though it had a mind of its own. Superman, unfazed, didn’t even react to the way their capes were flapping erratically around them. Green Lantern was relieved he didn’t have a cape.
He told the others about his theory, but they were skeptical at first. They eyed Batman’s cape with suspicion as he was distracted by a mission briefing with Wonder Woman. But even the Flash had to admit Green Lantern might be onto something when Batman’s cape swiped their feet out from under them, sending them both tumbling to the floor.
Martian Manhunter nodded sagely and agreed on its intelligence, having felt the minds of four little beings flitting around underneath Batman’s cape. Maybe one day they’d feel comfortable enough to run underneath his cape too.
"Don't you get it?" Jason spat, teetering on the verge of a howl. "I'm not him! Jason Todd is DEAD. He's gone! I'm just what crawled out of his grave."
He panted into the silence that followed, eyes stinging heat.
Bruce said nothing. Jason worried he might stand there, unspeaking, unmoving, til the end of time. Or just turn and walk away. That was what he wanted, wasn't it? For Bruce to stop chasing the ghost of a dead boy? To accept that he was someone different, someone new?
Instead, when Bruce finally spoke, he was quiet, thoughtful. "Did you know that I loved you the moment I met you?"
He wasn't looking at Jason, but down at his hands, as if his gloves were a scrying pool that he could peer into to see that old Jason, twelve years old and desperate but so full of life. Jason thought he could taste dirt.
Then Bruce chuckled, still to himself, still to his hands. "You were so cocky, so unwilling to give up without a fight, even to me. Some things never change."
His smile fade and he looked up, straight into Jason's face. "You were also scared. Traumatized. You had nightmares for months. You lied constantly. Hoarded food. Stole. I was so worried we'd never be able to make you feel safe, the way you deserved to feel."
"I'm not—" Jason began, voice tight.
"You're not him," Bruce agreed, and hearing it spoken out loud, so easily, cut off Jason's air.
"You haven't been him for years." Bruce stepped forward, pushing into Jason's space. "Part of him is in you, but you're not him. You changed." He shrugged, shoulder somehow expressive even beneath the weight of the armor, the cape, the night. "You weren't the boy I took in off the street even before you died. You grew. That's life, Jay."
Jason was the one unable to speak now, stuck in place like a gods-struck fool.
"You change. You grow. And I'll keep loving whoever you turn out to be next."
