When you don’t feel like you’re good enough, this is how they’d react:
Jason would bring out a small box, this box contained all the attempted written letters he had tried to write to convey how he felt about you. Half of them were crumpled violently as though he wasn’t happy with the lack of detail the note contained about your effect on him, the other half was either scribbled out or just really short notes as though Jason was giving himself a guideline as to how to properly convey his feelings into a couple of cohesive sentences. They were sweet and poetic in their own little ways even if half of the words were scribbled out, the sentiment was still there as you read each one, all of them were dated back to the very first day you met to current day and your smile couldn’t be any bigger then Jason’s ears were glowing red with flustering. He might be rubbish at his words, yet his written notes were nothing thing entirely, they were magic on paper even if Jason might not think the same, he written you like he was a worshiper, your devotee who prayed at your alter for another glimpse of you to complete his life’s one greatest wish.
Dick the carefree smile fades from his face as he was quick to realise how serious the situation was to you and would do his best to make you smile. Wether it’s making your favourite food in the morning or tying your shoes for you, making sure your drinking water and just pampering you by making you the most comfortable he can; all that before showering you in small gifts that reminded Dick of you in one way or another or grab things you’ve bought from your shared living space and tell you the story behind them, telling you why they were placed where they were as he wanted to see them all the time, as well as the pictures on the walls and how he realised that you were a constant in his life that he never wants to be without. Ever. You could never not be enough for dick because you always were.
Bruce will immediately shut theses thoughts and feelings down while also validating while you feel that way, feelings and thoughts often collided and make one question their self worth and their purpose. He didn’t want to wish that fate upon you and would do everything in his power to make sure you were given a reminder that you could never not be enough for him, he felt the same for a long while when you both started your little thing, not until you started showing him that he could never be a burden to you. Now he felt as though it was right to do so for him to do the same for you, caress your hands and arms while he tells you stories of how he’s catch himself looking at you without trying, almost as if he was made to look at you at every given opportunity possible as though he’d forget what you look like if he did.
Damian and Kyle Rayner are both artistic geniuses within their own right, both talented with whatever is in their hand whether it’d be a pen, pencil or a paintbrush or a stick of charcoal. So when you admit to not feeling like your good enough, Damian will raise his brow as though he doesn’t believe this statement -he really doesn’t- and will ask who planted such nonsense within your head, demanding to know whom to aim his anger and hatred towards while whispering sweet words into your ear about how your soul was impossible to draw for it was ever changing and ever evolving. A true treasure that he got lucky to call his own, his shimmering jewel and his beautiful beloved that he got to come back to mission after mission, to have and to hold for many future nights that you’ll share together.
Where as Kyle will sit you down and show you all the artwork he’s done when you weren’t looking at him, all of the sketches and water paintings he’s made of you in the past were beautiful and fully detailed, like he took extreme care in creating them to be utter perfection the only way he knew how. His art is his love language and you knew that he only drew what he loved in abundance and in a multitude of styles, and you were filled in his sketchbooks from top to bottom, whether you were sleeping or smiling to looking at birds as they took flight from the trees. You were always on his mind and him showing you one’s he did a while back with red ruby hearts framing your face were more then enough to get through to you that Kyle was a devoted man to you and only you.
Summary: Having two Green Lanterns from Earth is confusing enough. Having two with the same last name causes more problems.
Warnings/Word Count: Kyle is SO dramatic and a loverboy, fluff! 700+ words, requested
A/N: Kyle might be OOC; I based him on the STAS characterization! I kept this pretty short in case it's terrible. If it's not, I'd definitely be open to writing for him again!🤭
The Green Lantern Corp is built on tradition, willpower, heroism, and bravery. Nearly a year ago, that tradition was broken. In mere moments, the Corp gained two new ring-bearers, chosen by rings long-forgotten. More interesting, the new Green Lanterns resided in the same sector of space. In the same country, state, city, and even residence, in fact. It had never occurred before, so it was written in the history books of Oa, much to the chagrin of some of the Guardians.
Perhaps the most intriguing and confusing byproducts of having two Green Lanterns on the same planet is that they have the same last name. Because the Guardians are keen on tradition and refuse to break their habits of using last names, it has become nearly impossible to summon the intended Green Lantern when called.
Such obstacles seem negligible in the far reach of the Green Lantern mission, but the day-to-day impact remains a problem on and off Oa.
“Rayner!” Kilowog yells.
You stop, turning on the green-lined street. “Me?” you check, looking up at him.
“Sorry, kid,” he answers, shaking his head. “No, Kyle.”
You nod and continue walking. He doesn’t ask where your husband Kyle is, just sets out to find him alone. Despite the months that have passed, no one has seemed to realize that using your first names would be easier. Instead, it’s a daily battle of clarifying which Rayner is being called.
“Rayner!” someone screams.
“I don’t know where Kyle is,” you sigh, turning.
Ganthet shakes his head. “We need you both.”
It takes over twenty-four hours to defeat the intergalactic threat, fighting on the far side of the moon – which, contrary to the opinion of some, is in fact dark. When you finally return to Earth and reach your home, you collapse onto your couch and sigh.
“Maybe I should take my maiden name back,” you muse.
Your husband Kyle freezes, then sputters. He falls back, nearly crushing your legs as he grasps at his chest.
“It hurts!” he exclaims dramatically, pressing against his heart with his hand and reaching for you with the other. “The knife… lodged in my heart…”
“Kyle,” you call, smiling. “Kyle.”
“I can see the light,” he continues, staring past you. “It’s warm, but not as warm as your embrace.”
“You’re so dramatic.”
“I’m fading, my love.”
You roll over and wrap your arms around Kyle. He responds immediately, holding you against his chest as he takes a deep breath.
“Tell me about the comic you submitted yesterday?” you ask. “Since our date night was so rudely interrupted by an intergalactic imp?”
“It’s about a basketball team that has to solve a mystery while winning the championship game,” he explains.
“While?” you repeat. “Sounds like a hard multitask.”
“They’re cool.”
“Of course they are. You created them.”
Kyle drags his thumb below your lips, looking at your face like he never wants to see anything else.
“I hid you in the background of the game panels,” he adds. Then, his arm around your waist tightens as he sits up. “Hey, if you decide to take your maiden name again, I’m okay with that.”
You nod, then ask, “Can I see the comic?”
“I really am okay with it,” he repeats. “Because I’ll take it, too.”
You groan, leaning forward to fall against him. Immediately realizing your mistake, you attempt to sit up, but Kyle moves to quickly as he wraps his arms and legs around you, caging you in.
“I love you,” he says against your shoulder.
“I love you, too,” you promise.
“Rayner,” he adds softly.
“Rayner,” Ganthet calls.
“Is it really this hard?” you exclaim, throwing your arms up. “Use our full names if you have to, or a nickname, literally anything!”
“I fear we need both Rayners,” he adds. “Apologies.”
“Oh,” you mumble, dropping your shoulders. “Sorry, Ganthet.”
“Yeah, Ganthet, you could also use the good ol’ Mister and Missus,” Kyle adds, tossing an arm around your shoulders. “Seeing as we’re married.”
“I’ll take it under advisement,” Ganthet replies. “Meet the Guardians forthwith.”
“He will not be taking it under advisement,” Kyle whispers.
“I don’t doubt that honey,” you answer as you walk.
Summary💋: Kyle Rayner loves his art. And he loves his secret muse. You. But what he loves the most? Your lips. And he can’t help but draw them in silent hope that he’ll get to the real thing.
Slightly suggestive! Just kissing and yearning stuff, no smut!
Kyle Rayner had two sketchbooks.
The first one was filled with his normal stuff. Little doodles, some bigger, more detailed sketches, maybe even some ideas for constructs. This was the one that was known to others. The one that he kept with him during meetings and in public. The one people are used to seeing when he shows others his drawings, or when they’re peeking over his shoulder.
The second? That one was tucked deep and away in his room in the JLA base. And Kyle aversion of deep and way, is right under his pillow, like a middle schooler does with their Nintendo DS when they’re parents says no more after bed. And this one was hidden for good reason.
It was filled with You.
He had deep and detailed Rawlings of you in every page. It ranged from full body to small little features. If you were to look through, you’d see his progression from the first page to the most recent, how much better he’s gotten at defining your features to their own.
And his favorite thing to draw was your lips. Each page had at least one little sketch of them. Some pages were full of them. He practiced each and every expression, angle, and texture of them. From your different types of pout, to your different types of smiles. From dry to wet, some with little marks and scars from when you’d bite down on them. He was able to catch the shine in each, little bits of white and darker areas of gray perfected how they looked when the light came down on them just right. And each bottom lip even included the small little indentation on the right, the spot where you bit down the most that it stuck. That shows how much he pays attention to them, that he can notice the smallest detail.
It wasn’t meant to be in a creepy way. Kyle saw you as something to worship. Something that was meant to be drawn and taken time on. It was his way of taking his yearning of you and expressing it in paper. He wanted to take his time and dedication perfecting you like you deserved.
The worst part? Some nights, alone with the only sound being the pencil scratching against the paper, he’d get too impatient. Too much yearning and wanting. He’d bring the paper up to his face, and kiss the drawings of your lips.
The texture of the paper and the lead was felt against his lips, but he’d imagine it as your soft and gentle lips. It was like he was practicing, but instead of a pillow he used something more visual.
It was like an invisible signature. He thought that the more his drew and kissed your fake lips, the closer he’d get to the real thing. Each was filled with yearning and hope. Praying and begging to get a warm glance his way the next morning, maybe a little brush of pinky’s, anything that could get him closer to you.
He really did worship you through his art. And maybe someday he’d show you it, to show his dedication to you. A representation of his love for you. But for now, he keeps it tucked away, something for only his eyes until the day he’d get what he wants.
Thank you for reading! I fully believe Kyle is a hard yearner >•<
Debrief: Kyle gets home from an intergalactic mission and his first stop is to the florist, then to you.
Case Notes: your order has arrived, @itachisrealm, enjoy your bouquet!
The key turns in the penthouse lock at an hour when Gotham’s skyline looks like a circuit board, the stars blinking and the dark sky brooding.
He slips in, quiet, a duffel slung over one shoulder, and a bouquet cradled in the other arm like it might bruise if he breathes wrong.
The flowers are lush and bright. Pink peonies, in full bloom. Stargazer lilies tipped in white with pink streaks, speckled like they were flicked with paint from a brush. He’d stood in the little corner florist on Burnley for twenty minutes debating the exact shade of peonies because if he’s going to cross galaxies to make it home to you, he can at the very least pick complimenting flowers for his girl.
Kyle Rayner, intergalactic peacekeeper, terror to cosmic warlords, standing there like, “No, no, she likes the ones that look like they’re fluffy and cloud like?”
You’re at the kitchen island, laptop open, heels kicked off, hair half up and half falling. Dog napping peacefully at your feet, who only lifts his head for a moment to see who’s entering before laying his head back down with a huff.
You don’t look up immediately. You know it’s him. When you do turn, your expression does the thing. The thing he flies across sectors for. Even if it’s only a short break at home.
Your whole face softens, then brightens, then breaks into that smile that makes his heart skip a beat.
“You’re home,” you breathe out, pretty eyes staying on his face.
“Last I checked,” he says, setting the bouquet down like an offering to a particularly intimidating goddess, “No extradimensional parasites followed me, again. I triple-checked.”
You step into him before he can finish the sentence, arms sliding around his waist, face tucking into his neck. He exhales into your hair like he’s been holding that breath for lightyears.
He presses his chin to the top of your head his voice soft and warm as he murmurs softly,“Missed you, angel.”
“You saw me on holo-call yesterday.”
“Doesn’t count. You were yelling at Dick off-screen.”
“He was being annoying, he deserved to be yelled at.”
He laughs into your temple. Then you pull back just enough to see the flowers. And there it is again. That smile. Wider this time, and softer.
“You went to a florist before you came home?” You ask, eyebrow quirking as you look at him.
“I may have intimidated a man named Carl about peony freshness.”
“What a hero.” You say in a playful tone, and he grins.
“I contain multitudes of heroism.”
You take the bouquet carefully, like it’s something sacred instead of something he probably overpaid for. You bring the peonies to your nose first, inhaling, long lashes fluttering against your cheekbones as your eyes close.
Kyle watches like an artist studying light, taking a mental picture of the sight to sketch out later.
He knows you don’t need them, the flowers. He knows that when he came back from his first long mission after the two of you started dating, and just showed up empty-handed, you’d nearly tackled him into the couch anyway. That your love language is presence. That you’d be just as happy if he materialized with nothing but exhaustion and a story.
But he likes this. He likes the ritual. The stop at the florist after weeks in deep space. The deliberation over petals. The knowledge that somewhere between Oa and Gotham, he thought about how stargazers make you smile like your entire being is made of sunshine.
“You didn’t have to,” you murmur, your eyes opening to find his face.
“I know.”
You set the bouquet in a vase by the window where the city lights catch the pink, Peonies like soft fireworks and Stargazers like constellations that decided to visit earth.
When you turn back, you’re studying him now.
“You’re tired,” you say gently.
“Little bit.” Kyle says admittedly
“You eat?”
“Do space ration bars count.”
“They do not.” You take his hand and tug him toward the couch. He drops onto it with theatrical exhaustion, sprawling dramatically.
“I risk my life across sectors,” he sighs, one arm thrown over his eyes, “And this is my reward. Domestic supervision.”
“You love domestic supervision.”
“I do.”
You sit on the edge of the couch and lean down to kiss him. Slow and familiar. His hand slides to your waist automatically, thumb brushing along your side. When you pull away, you rest your forehead against his.
“Missed you. You staying long?” you ask softly.
“Not going anywhere,” he replies, “Earth’s got the best gravity.”
You snort, “That was terrible.”
“I’ve been in space for three weeks. My material’s rusty.”
when you first start dating he may be a bit more shy or reluctant about it, but soon enough he starts giving you post-it notes that he's doodled on
they started off just being inky landscapes
but one day it's... you ????
like hello what's you face doing here and
why do you look so amazing ??
is that what you really look like ???
kyle always captures the reality of you, emphasising your best features and helping you feel more comfortable in yourself by seeing yourself through his eyes
kyle is a romantic as well
he uses his passion for art, his passion for you, and his general passionateness all together to keep you happy
happy wife happy life
happy spouse happy house
he takes that very seriously
kyle will definitely make an effort to buy you your favourite flowers, but sometimes he's running a little low on money, or forgot them on the way to your place
so he'll make green flowers on the spot with his ring, and they never lilt !!
so really he doesn't need to buy you more flowers after doing that
but we all know he does
before meeting you he didn't used to be much of a painter, sticking to sketching and inking
but, despite being a green lantern himself, the presence of you has made his world much brighter
you add splashes of colour, acrylic permanently washing his heart
kyle's even found himself dabbling in poetry ???
like ok shakespeare who
and who would guess that they're about you ??
he keeps them mostly in his notes app, or his journal, and is a bit more shy about revealing these
but just know they're very sweet
aww
and he loves pet names
obviously not the super obnoxious ones like pumpkin pinky poo pie
but often things that have to do with things you experience together
like petal is a cute one, because he always brings you flowers
and obviously my love is a go-to
not that kyle would ever admit it, but he's definitely always been a hopeless romantic, and he could barely believe his chances after meeting someone like you
he knew he couldn't mess this one up
he held back even when he knew he loved you
and.... ok he wiuldn't be very happy with me telling you this but
he's already bought a ring
part of him wants you to find it, tucked away somewhere, because his nerves can't bring himself to get down on one knee
because he'd know his dreams and prayers had come true
Synopsis: Kyle's working a case involving some missing tech from a spaceship crash. Guy suggests they ask the "space cowboys" if they know something.
W.C: 2k
Tags: Fluff ♡, mentions of blood, any and all knowledge I have about cowboys comes from rdr2, any and all knowledge I have about the lanterns come from wiki fandom!
"Sorry—space cowboys?" Kyle blurted out with a confused look.
"Yeah! Space cowboys, outlaws, bounty hunters—whatever you wanna call them." Guy chewed his gum.
He looked to Hal for more clarification. He told him the space cowboys are only know as space cowboys to Guy. More often referred to as outlaws.
"Their planet was invaded centuries ago. Ever since the native have struggled to get jobs and hold them down. Most resort to outlaw life to get by these days." Kyle hummed in acknowledgement.
"Some have started to turn towards bounty hunting rather than robbing and contract killings lately."
"Well, that's good," Kyle commented.
"C'mon! Space cowboys dont loiter around forever!" Guy shouted at the other two Lanterns.
They landed at their destination. It was a planet made up of dunes and rocky mountains. Kyle had to squint, the sun was blinding him. He managed to see a town in the distance through the sand being blown by the wind. He couldn't help but huff out a laugh at how much this place resembled the Wild West.
"Right, where would we find a space cowboy?" Kyle asked Guy.
"The Saloon," Guy said with a grin and theatrical tone.
"This really is the Wild West." Hal groaned as he trudged through the sandy dunes towards the town.
"So," Kyle coughed out some sand that he had inhaled. "Is there a specific person we're looking for or just any space cowboy?"
"Space cowgirl." Guy turned to Kyle with a stern look. "She won't take kindly to you messing up like that."
"But you said cowboy..."
"Don't mind him." Hal waved Guy off. "We've worked with her before, albeit she wasn't pleased."
"Back when we first met her, it was because she was a suspect in a case. She worked mostly train robberies, don't think she's ever done contract killings. But her bounty was, like five thousand dollars or something. It didn't sound like she was incapable of being involved."
Kyle nearly dropped his jaw when Hal said your bounty—back when they first met you—was around five thousand dollars.
"What was the case?"
"Similar to this one; spaceship crash," Guy informed. "Last time someone got there before us. Stole all the tech and documentation from inside—bloody mess left behind."
"Only some of the tech and documentation went missing this time though. Meaning it's someone with a specific goal—not another group of outlaws." Hal finished.
As they got closer the place began to look more run-down. Rotting wood, bullet holes, broken signs and poles. Empty bottles and stubbed cigarettes littered the ground. Kyle even spotted some ammunition.
"Hope she doesn't run off on us. She is not an easy woman to catch." Hal muttered to himself as he stepped through the batwing doors.
The room echoed with the clanking of bottles, boisterous laughter, and the creaking of old wooden furniture. It all died down once the three Green Lanterns were spotted. They stuck out like a sore thumb compared to everyone in this town. Hal motioned Kyle foward and whispered to him to not say anything. Guy followed behind trying to not be so obnoxious with his chewing. He wasn't scared of these guys, but he'd also rather not fight off 50 guys with guns today. They sat down at the further edge of the bar. Not a single person had taken their eyes off them.
"Guy Gardener, how unpleasant it is to see you." Guy scowled at the comment, Hal smiled and Kyle looked over in curiosity.
You were sat at stool over from them. Leaning back onto the countertop, your pinch front hat obscuring your visage. Kyle took quick notice to the gun strapped to your thigh. It seemed to made from scraps.
"Hey! Mind you're fuckin' business!" You kicked a guy who was clearly eavesdropping. It was like a switch had been flipped, everyone went back to what they'd been doing beforehand.
You scooted onto the closer stool, sitting yourself beside Hal. "Long time no see, space ranger!" You're voice was chipper. He hadn't expected someone who appeared so intimidatingly to sound so lovely.
"Long time no see yourself!" Hal smiled.
"Want anything?" You asked looking between the three.
"Nah, I'm alright.
"No thanks!"
"Beer."
"You can't drink—we're on the job!" Kyle gave out.
"I'm getting a nonalcoholic, don't get your panties in a twist." Guy retorted as you signalled the bartender over.
"So, who's the new guy?" You leaned futher back to get a good look at Kyle who sat between Guy and Hal.
"I'm Kyle." He gave you a hand to shake.
You nearly laughed, alot of people around don't have enough respect for handshakes. You took his hand and gave him your name nonetheless.
"Pretty name." Kyle's complemented too quiet. Guy didn't hear it, maybe Hal did. You certainly did.
Hal sighed at the exchange as you brought your hat back over your face. Hiding your smile and the blood rushing to your cheeks.
"What can I help yous with?"
"Another spaceship crash. Only certain items were missing." Hal updated you on the ongoing case. Kyle was mesmerised by how quickly you changed. Your expression serious and posture professional.
"Any idea on what kind of tech went missing? Any idea what was on those documents?" You asked.
"No ideas. We do have this though." Guy tossed a piece of unfamiliar technology at you. You caught it in one hand and began to study it.
"Anything you know about this stuff would help out." Guy went back to sipping his beer.
You were silent for a while. Having turned around on the bar stool to sit normally. You were hunched over poking and prodding at the device. Kyle had no clue what it was or what it was made from.
"I think I've an idea..." You muttered and shoved the tech into your jacket. You put some money on the counter before signalling the Lanterns to follow you out the back.
Now out of the dim lighting, Kyle could finally get a good look at you. You were dressed in a jacket and boots. Something similar to spurs on the back of them. A bandana was half shoved into your pocket and was that...a sword belt? A worn lasso hung loosely by your hip. Opposite side of the gun holster.
"How many weapons do you carry?" Kyle found himself asking before he could even think of what he was saying.
"Too many for the sheriff's likin'." You joked. "Just the gun, blade, and a dagger in my boot." You tapped each spot when informing him of the weapons.
"Belt's new! What happened to the other gun?" Guy remarked as he dusted himself off.
You mumbled a name through gritted teeth, none of them managing to catch it. "Smug bastard stole it."
"Well c'mon I haven't got all day!" You turned and started heading for the dunes. The opposite way they came in.
"Where exactly are we going?" Hal jogged up beside you.
"There's this gang that's been causin' a hassle round here lately." You're expression was more serious than before. "Hassles a light term. They've been causin' alot of trouble. Robbin' anyone and everyone. Causing pointless damage for the fun of it."
Kyle noticed your steps got heavy. Your boots slammed into the rocks and sands angrily.
"I don't know much about 'em—but I've a few of the guys runnin' around with this type of tech." You held the weird device up. "No idea what it's made of. Definitely not the kind of thing you'd see round here. Most people use scarps to build. Not whatever this fancy bullshit is." Your tone was bitter as you glared at the creation in your palm.
"Are these guys dangerous?" Kyle enquired.
"Definitely." That made him gulp. From what he could see on you—space cowboys were about weaponry. He really didn't want to be shot or stab today.
"Don't worry starboy, I've got ya." You teased.
"Where'd you find the cutie?" You nudged Hal before walking ahead, not minding Guy's laughter. Kyle watched you with rosy cheeks and a dropped jaw.
"This is it." You expressed with your arms.
Kyle looked down towards the hideout of the gang. You were watching from the mountaintop, keeping low behind some rocks.
"I don't know how you Lanterns typically go about this kind of stuff, but these aren't the kind of guys who'll just step down."
"Really don't want to do brute force." Kyle murmured more to himself than anyone.
"I can distract them for ya!" You offered, already standing up. "I'm very good at ticking folks off."
"Don't get yourself hurt." Guy advised with a salute.
You sauntered back down the mountain.
"Are you seriously going to let her do that? She doesn't have a ring she could get badly injured!" Kyle protested.
"Worried for your girlfriend?" Guy bumped his shoulder.
"You saw how armed she was!" Guy swallowed his gum. "Besides, as someone who's seen her chase down guys like these—let me tell ya—she'll be fine."
And with that the half formed plan fell into action.
"Who are you?" A tall masked man with a gun shouted. His accent was different from yours.
"I'm just a little lost mister!" You shouted back. Your tone laced with artificial honey. "Was hoping someone here would help me out!"
"You don't look like someone who needs help." Another man piped up. Gesturing towards your gun with his own.
"I ain't got any ammo, don't worry." That was kinda true. You did unfortunately only have 3 bullets though. Ammunition was expensive in this economy.
"C'mon, you won't give a little lady and hand?" You pushed the lost-damsel-in-distress persona as the three Lanterns snuck their way into the base.
Your sudden appearance had took up most of the gang's attention. Not all though. You needed the guards at the base entrance to look your way.
"Go on! Scram lady!"
"Did your mother never teach ya how to speak to a lady?" You asked with a fierce look in your eyes.
Kyle blinked and all of a sudden bullets were flying. And so were you—on a hoverboard.
"Damn, she did some upgrades on that thing! It's faster than last time right?" Guy held a hand over his eyes to see you.
"Yeah it is." Hal commented.
Kyle stared at you jaw dropped. You swerved around the sky, dodging bullets and causing a commotion.
"Let's go." Hal commanded as the base entrance guards ran in your direction.
The three men emerged from the bade with all the stolen evidence and answers unlocked. The gang members where spilled across the dusty ground. Unconscious or groaning in pain. The ground was littered bullets, blood, and broken gadgets.
"You owe me big time Lanterns." You stumbled out of a tent.
"Way to go, cowgirl!" Guy cheered.
"We ain't got horses on this plant, you know that."
Your attire stained with dirt and blood. Stolen gadgets were being stuffed into your pockets as made your way towards them. Kyle couldn't help but give you a once over. The blood stains had him concerned.
"Ay, I'm alright starboy." You patted his shoulder. "Got roughed up and bit, gonna pull an all nighter to fix my gear—but I'm alright."
"You make your own gear and gadgets?" He asked.
"Yeah! My gun, my belt, my board—all of it!" You smiled. "Made by these very hands and scraps."
Kyle smiled back it. As an artist he couldn't help but be amazed by your creativity. Being able to invent is one thing, but from essentially nothing is another.
"You make things yourself, starboy?" You propped your hands on your hips.
"Uh, yeah—I do! I'm a comic book artist."
"I've no idea what that is..." He blinked at your statement.
"I suppose it might be more of a human thing. I—I can show you my work sometime—maybe?" He rubbed his neck sheepishly.
"Sure, I can show you how I make my gadgets then too!" You gave him a sly look.
"Kyle! Stop flirting we gotta go!" Guy shouted. Him and Hal had already made distance from the base.
"Well, see ya around starboy." You placed a soft peck to his cheek.
"See ya..." Kyle nodded breathlessly as you sauntered off in the other direction.
A/N: I love the concept of space cowboys. I need to finish cowboy bebop sooo bad. Anyways, the lanterns are infesting my mind. They're so cool bro.
Summary: “You know…” He made it a point to gesture at your bandaged shoulder, “You truly are a holy one.”
You gave him an unimpressed look and scoffed at his little joke.
Warnings: canon-level violence, swearing, blood, severe injury, a hint of angst, fluff, established relationship
Word Count: 1.6 k
A/N: I decided to give the reader "Thrasher" as their vigilante name just to keep consistency with my other Kyle fics. I hope u enjoy this oneshot! This probably took me forever to write, mainly bc I was moving. Not entirely happy how it turned out but it's done now ;-;
Taglist: @esposadomd
The morning had been going on quite well, in fact it was a little concerning. Something was always bound to happen in your line of work. There’s never a dull moment when living as a vigilante, even when dating and living with another. Especially when said vigilante happens to be a green lantern. More specifically the freelance artist green lantern who’s known for creating gigantic gundams.
He’s a great boyfriend and chaos has a tendency to follow him wherever he goes. Thus, chaos followed you as well like an unshakeable cold. Most of the time it was manageable but it seemed like today was heading towards a direction you certainly did not like once a fellow vigilante had called you for backup on a case they were working on.
Donna Troy was a close friend to both you and your boyfriend, so whenever she asked for aid you normally drop what you're doing and go support and vise versa.
She needed help closing up her case by stopping a shipment from leaving the docks. She had intel there were five cargo crates that needed to be obtained with a small crew handling the drop off. The case had been in the works for two months deep undercover. Donna was not one to slack off when it came to things like this. She’d informed you these crates were filled with containers of lethal weaponized chemicals that could cause a national ecocatastrophe.
Getting there was an easy job, waiting for the package took longer than expected. At one point you thought maybe Donna had gotten her intel wrong. It had been hours of sitting in the same position and your body was starting to lock up. You desperately needed to stretch out. Before you could voice your worries however, the loading trucks carrying the crates arrived.
“Thrasher, there’s six coming out of the truck not including the driver. Stay concealed until I give you the signal,” Donna whispered. She was making her way over to the truck where the crew began unloading. She slowly picked off one by one, starting with the driver who had gotten out to smoke.
As Donna made it to the last one the back doors flew open and more came barging out with weapons. “Well Donna, I’m gonna take that as my signal unless you’d rather I sit this one out?” You spoke through the coms.
“A little help would be great you little asshole! Now get down here!”
You unsheathed your trusty daggers and made your way down from your high perch, effectively dropping two goons on your way down from the silent jump. Unsheathing the knives from their holsters you threw them to their targets who went down with no issues.
There were only a handful left. You slashed down whoever was near you while Donna was moving the crates away.
“Hey, have you gotten the crates to a secure place yet? I know-” you choked out in pain. Looking down you saw a narrow spear half sticking out of your right shoulder.
“Okay, I just got the last of them secured. Heading over your way,” Her voice crackled through the com piece in your ear.
“Son of a bitch!” you gasped as you broke off the end of the spear after a few hacks from one of your daggers. You made sure to keep it in your shoulder so you wouldn’t bleed out but the edges are going to cause more harm than good if you can’t fix it fast.
Once your arm had more movement you went after the remaining goons who were left standing. They weren’t too much trouble compared to the others you had just fought but they carry stranger weapons.
Donna had made it back in time to catch you before you tumbled down. Only after convincing her you were fine to make it back to yours on your own did you make it inside your small apartment.
Kyle had spotted you instantly on the couch once he got back, rushing up to you with shaky hands at the sight of blood pooling out from the wound. “Hey, hey look at me. Let’s get you to the bathroom so I can clean you up, okay? Can you walk on your own?”
When you slowly shook your head no he carefully lifted you up and carried you to the bathroom. He waited until he was finished with rubbing the blood off with a damp towel and disinfecting the wound before carefully pulling out what was left of the narrow spear. You instructed him through patching you up, reminding him you’re fine just woozy from blood loss.
After Kyle gave you medication for the pain he took you to the bedroom carefully tucking you under the covers.
“You know…” He made it a point to gesture at your bandaged shoulder, “You truly are a holy one.”
You gave him an unimpressed look and scoffed at his little joke.
“So, are you going to tell me what happened or do I have to bribe you to let me in?” Kyle pulled you into his arms, your back towards his chest, as he slipped into bed next to you, avoiding your injury to not cause any more damage. Which you were very grateful for.
You let out a shaky sigh, your head was still spinning albeit slower than it was a moment ago. “I uh, it was from a case I was helping out with. There wasn’t much going on, I only had to lend a hand when things got to be too much. I can feel the face you’re making right now. If it makes you feel any better I was careful for the most part. It was just the end when I got this nifty souvenir.”
He let out a small bemused huff through his nose, “What am I going to do with you?”
“Well, for starters you could graciously put a ring on it.”
You could feel the vibrations of his laughter begin to lull you to sleep. You let your eyes flutter closed and your breathing finally evened out.
Once Kyle knew you were fully asleep he pulled you in closer, reassuring himself that you were still alive, still here. He went to sleep knowing he was planning a trip for the two of you with the small ring box he had hidden away deep in his pants drawer.
Summary: their date is interrupted by what else but superhero duty. No warning. It’s fluffy.
Kyle grinned as you swung from a grappling hook across the city. There was no way he’d ever tell Batman but the man kinda went off on grappling hooks. He flew with the ring, easily keeping up with you. You gave him a glare with no heat and started to show off a little. Flipping and dipping in a way that had Kyle staying close for fear of you actually falling. On the last building, you swung low and landed on the ground, hoping you looked graceful.
“I could have given you a lift,” he said landing beside you. “But then I’d miss the show.”
You laughed. “That would have been tragic. Come on. This is my favorite coffee shop.”
The coffee shop owner with tiny purple dreads barely blinked at two masked people entering her store. The atmosphere was like a good witch’s shop in a children’s movie. People that ranged from soccer moms to witches to distinguished professors and college students sat around on mismatched chairs and bean bags. Large shelves that reached ceiling high had clear glass jars full of coffees and teas and spices. Each one was carefully labeled and organized. The counter beneath them housed multiple hot water and coffee making instruments. The whole place smelled warm. Pretty perfect for almost constantly cold Gotham.
You walked up to the counter and ordered your favorite coffee/tea. The lady behind the counter used a stool to reach in the needed jars to get what she needed for your drink. She took Kyle’s drink order next.
“Large black coffee,” he said and she started making it without hesitation but you turned to look at him.
“Really,” you said with a grin. “You even order coffee like a cop.”
“Not really. I order coffee like,” he looked around as if you didn’t already make sure you were both out of listening distance from everyone. It was cute. “My day job.”
“Which is?” You prompted. He looked around again and used his ring to make a writing pad. That’s how he was going to tell you so no one could overhear? Bruce would be proud of that level of paranoia.
“An artist,” he said drawing the cup in your hand in a rough sketch and showing you. “Usually comics. And freelance too.”
“Nice picture. That’s an interesting day job,” you said, genuinely surprised by his answer as his coffee was handed to him.
“You?”
“Philanthropy,” you answered as you pulled him to a tiny far table where no one could hear you and you had a good view of the exists. Gotham wasn’t safe, even for a vigilante and green lantern.
“That’s a job? You’re like wealthy then,” he kinda stammered. That was even cuter.
“I mean, you do know who my father is. I run a bunch of charities with his money. It’s the least I could do, you know?” You said with a shrug.
“Not really. I barely make enough to give to charity,” he said with a very awkward laugh, playing with the stem of the coffee cup. “I’m making myself look really great on this date.”
“This is a date?” You teased and his eyes widened a little and you laughed before he could start talking. “I’m just teasing. You’ll have to show me more of your work. You know, I’ve been needing a logo for a benefit coming up and I don’t really know any artists...” that was a lie but who cares?
“Really?” Kyle said taking a drink of his coffee.
“Hmm yep, but I need to know how that plain black coffee is,” you said and he smiled at you. He had a cute smile.
“It’s good. There’s this place in New York that’s better,” Kyle said and you laughed, leaning across the table a little towards him.
“I take you to the best coffee place in Gotham and you tell me that New York is better. I should leave you in one of Gotham’s streets without your ring for that,” you said and Kyle leaned more towards you. There was barely a foot between you both.
“I’d probably die. Or get poisoned. Or kidnapped for no reason. Definitely mugged,” Kyle said in a conspiring whisper. You nodded.
“Definitely mugged. You’re in that suit and kids could probably still take your wallet. Good for a lantern but you’d make a terrible bat,” you whispered back. Kyle reached a hand across the table to run his fingers across the back of yours.
“You’re really pretty. Even in a mask,” he told you and you flushed. Innuendos and playful flirting you could do all day. Outright saying what you thought was not a strong suit for you. Kinda par for the course of being raised by Batman and all. Kyle noted how flustered you looked and thought it was cute. Tough bat thrown off by one little compliment.
He held your hand in his and leaned even closer to where you were almost kissing. You couldn’t help but look at his lips. Slightly full and rosy next to his tan skin and looking soft. Just as you were about to close the distance between you both, some sort of alert system went off for him. He groaned and pulled back.
“Work calls,” he said with a grimace. “Sorry,” Kyle said handing you a green rose created by his ring.
“I know this will disappear the second you stop thinking about me,” you said.
“Then it’ll be there all day,” Kyle said with a sly grin. You smiled despite yourself. “Thanks for the coffee. Call me,” he said and numbers searing into the flower above your hand.
