Robin X Reader - Blog Posts

506 words, strangers to lovers, he falls first and continues to fall harder. Another of my drabbles for Damian, slightly inspired by Suburban Legends/Gold Rush. >> No names mentioned, no warnings, overwhelming pining + fluff.

I offer, Damian Wayne going on the one gala date he swears that he won’t enjoy begrudgingly. Alfred smoothens his tie, for reassurance because the tie is already perfectly done anyway. There’s hesitance in his features. Bruce assures him that the girl he’s set to be his date is his age and won’t bore him. It’s a coin flip, really. However, curiosity kills the cat.

So, Damian Wayne leaves the manor, suit perfectly creased, ready to bite the bullet.

When they reach the gala, you're there, waiting at the start of the red carpet. It's a breathtaking sight, you're a breathtaking sight. There's a knowing glance from Bruce, and there's an elbow nudge from Dick, who cheekily reminds him to close his mouth, lest flies fly in.

He's quick to dismiss his awestruck gaze. He guesses you'll bore him; he prays you do. So that it makes falling softer. It makes this figurative cliff he's ready to jump over for you, easier. He guesses wrong. You make the stuffy event more than bearable, you make him want more of you, you make him want to toss you his heart.

That's why he finds himself escorting you back home. As you pull on his tie to kiss him, he finds himself never wanting this night to end. It's been a few days, and he's been wanting, craving, to see you again. You, your charisma, crooked smile, endless patience and grace.

He's been shamelessly looking up who you are, grasping at the straws to find out who exactly you are. You, the mystery who has captivated him since the night you both met. Alfred the cat is judgmental, wise eyes gazing at him as he spends the next few minutes looking at your long list of achievements, the next more impressive than the other. That's why at the next charity event, he finds himself asking Bruce to invite you as his date again. There's a sliver of a smile of his father, who puts on a poker face, trying his best not to smile proudly in front of his son. An I-told-you-so is in order, but he's happy, nonetheless. Time passes quicker than expected. This time, he sees you part the crowd effortlessly as you walk toward him. It may be a Wayne event, but it's shaping up to be one that you're the star of.

You were so magnetic it was almost obnoxious. Damian's never had to battle for someone's attention as much as he did with you. It's worth it, though. As you both exchange numbers on the balcony, the starlit night illuminates Damian and you. You chorus that you two should meet outside of these events, and Damian's ready to melt, and perhaps die happy. It's unusual, and it's definitely not what he expected; to fall and fall harder with a stranger his father set him up with. It's a welcome surprise. After multiple dates, quick coffees evolve into domestic mornings with each other, and that's when he knows, he knows that you're the one.

342 words, dreams of the future, established relationship with thoughts of marriage. Sleepy drabbles for Damian, continuation of ask sent to @/idyllcy. What if I scream into a pillow because this makes me so jealous. >> No names mentioned, no warnings, overwhelming fluff.

When he wakes up in the morning from nightmares or dreams that frighten him, he sees you. Either awake, candlelight illuminating your familiar features as you read, or snuggled beside him. Damian readjusts his hold on you gingerly, a small smile growing as you cuddle into him unknowingly. There are times that he worries that he may break you.

A clawed grasp on his past may extend to you, and he fears that one day, all the patience you’ve shown him will dwindle.

He’s like a cat in that way. Even when cornered, he’s instance to attack, claws sharpened, lips curled into a sneer, to hide what he thinks is scarred, ugly, and undeserving.

But somehow, you make him retract those fears, heart softening, touch, soft. You make him want to bend to your every whim, you make him soft. You, his angel, his better half.

Soothing kisses and touches from you make every thought melt away. You've always managed to make him feel that he is indeed worth it. It was a long time coming, getting him to open up to you.

It was worth it, though. As it always is with you and your easy charm.

He couldn't help but want to be vulnerable for once. Even with the ugly, scars on his person, you somehow make everything feel worthwhile. You see every part of him he thinks is flawed. Making it so easy for him to crumble the walls he's constructed all his life.

That at the end of the day, his past is less of a burden and more of a gift.

The weight of the small ring box on his nightstand is a reminder of what's to come.

Marital bliss is something he never knew he wanted, in the past, but a welcome dream.

One that he hopes will come. Damian's never been one for dramatic confessions or ceremonies, but something about bridal henna, customs, and courtship, with you. It makes his heart beat in his chest. He hopes it's the same for you too.

i absolutely adore this!

five times steve knows, and the one time you actually tell him | robin buckley x fem!reader (ft. platonic steve x f!reader)

description: steve knows you’re dating, even if you aren’t ready to tell him, and he’s willing to wait. it certainly give him time to get used to this new dynamic in your friendship

warnings: fem pronouns for reader, and reader referred to as robins girlfriend, swearing, steve’s pov - your relationship through his eyes, essentially - (barely) implied homophobia typical of the eighties, steve is a little lonely

a/n: for a request i can’t find but admittedly was tweaked severely, just stuck with the general secret relationship idea, hope that’s okay :)

i kind of hate this but i spent too many hours on it not to post… any feedback is welcome :)

1 .

Admittedly, the first time Steve realises that his best friends might not be quite as platonic as he thought is after he’s invited himself to what he’s beginning to suspect is a date .

Watching films together is something you have been doing since all three of you started at the video store, so when he heard you and Robin bickering over what to watch from the delivery of latest releases, he could only assume it was for a group viewing.

Now though, sitting in your basement, flanked by bottles of juice and bowls of over-sugared popcorn,it occurs to him that he’s the only one actually watching the film. At the other end of the sofa, he can hear you and Robin giggling, and he’s turning, ready to scold you for being so noisy, when he sees it, the look in Robin’s eyes.

She isn’t watching the movie, as was Steve’s suspicion, but looking at you, with all the adoration one person can fit into a single expression. And something in Steve’s chest drops sympathetically, because the last thing Robin needs is to get hurt by falling in love with her best friend.

But you’re looking at her too, and though he can’t see your expression, he can hear you laughing again, and there’s something about the whole thing that makes Steve pause; your pinky finger hooked around Robin’s, poorly hidden by your popcorn, sat on your lap.

It’s so disgustingly cheesy, and strangely intimate, that Steve’s head snaps back to the television, gulping softly at this latest discovery.

His best friends are dating.

His best friends are dating, and neither of them told him. This sharp flash of betrayal ignites in his chest, and he almost turns back to say something, to voice this strange hurt at being left to find out on his own, but then he recalls that adoring look on Robin’s face, the creases in the corner of her eyes with her smile, the soft pink colour of her cheeks, and he thinks better of ruining it for her.

His anger simmers down until it’s replaced by guilt for ever being angry at all as he recalls a conversation with Robin months ago during a late shift spent reshelving all the romances as Robin rated each one from best to worst.

“I never imagined you’d be into all the mushy shit.”

“Everyone’s into all that mushy shit, Steve,” She scoffed. “I’m not a monster.”

“I’m not.” Steve retorted, “Especially in practice.”

“That’s because you take it for granted,” She rolled her eyes, “I’d kill for some cheesy romantic shit. I want to blush when she smiles at me, and, like, just be all flustered and mushy.”

“What’s stopping you?”

He had regretted it the second he said it of course, realising once more how different it is for Robin to like women than it is for him, that he never needs to worry to be seen on a date, or holding hands, or falling in love.

He has taken it for granted, he realises now as you giggle softly again just across the sofa. He can’t help but smile a little, turning for one last glance at Robin’s pink cheeks and your intertwined fingers, and he knows he won’t say anything until you’re ready to tell him yourselves.

He is still smiling when he returns to the film again, happy for his bestfriends, all mushy and romantic for each other.

A moment later though, something causes him to remember the circumstance in which he has ended up here, third wheeling in your basement, and the embarrassment mortifies him.

How does one get out of their best friends date after inviting himself along in the first place?

2.

Weeks after the mind altering realisation in your basement, Steve Harrington has almost forgotten about it. It was easy to do so after a week of shifts working individually with either you or Robin, but never both, and whilst for a couple of days after crashing your date he expected to be told something, you seemed no closer to revealing your relationship, and he was no closer to revealing his knowledge of it.

Today though, all three of you working to cover the busy Friday shift, full of people coming to rent films for the weekend movie nights, Steve wants to scream at the pair of you, because whilst Steve is manning the register, you and Robin are passing notes.

As Steve nods along to the little old lady talking about what she thought of The Breakfast Club, he watches as you slip past Robin, pressing a little slip of paper into her palm before disappearing across the store again, and as she reads it, Robin’s face splits into a dopey looking grin.

It’s sickeningly cute and Steve can’t decide if he wants to throw up and tease them for the next century over it. He considers both for a moment as Robin gently folds the note and tucks it carefully in her vest pocket.

He rolls his eyes.

“Excuse me?”

Eyes widening, Steve realises he’s rolled his eyes at a customer, waving his hands dismissively and shaking his head defensively.

“Sorry, that wasn’t at you!” He assures hastily, “I love The Breakfast Club, especially how the nerd- and the jock and everyone…”

He lifts his hands and joins his fingers in a weak attempt to display how the characters found common ground in the end, sighing as the woman backs away from him with a disapproving look.

He drops his hands against the counter and groans.

“Jesus, Harrington,” Robin laughs just a few feet away, “We’ve moved on from scaring the girls our own age, I see.”

“Screw you, Buckley.”

She tosses him a fleeting middle finger before another customer approaches Steve at the register, thankfully without their opinion ready to bore him.

When he looks over the customers shoulder to glare again at Robin, he finds her reading the note from her pocket again, smiling giddily down at it, and then looking up to find your eyes across the store.

His frown softens and he sighs.

He’s happy for you really.

3.

“And then she like, acting as if she did me a favour to go out with me in the first place- what’s that about?”

There’s another staticky sigh across the line and Steve can tell it’s Robin trying to figure out how to comfort him. He’s been on the phone with her for twenty minutes now, retelling the story of his latest dating disaster.

“She sounds like a shitty person, Steve-“

Across the phone there is another voice that interrupts Robin, and Steve can just make it out as yours. His heart drops momentarily with the realisation he’s interrupted another date.

Then, strangely, jealousy hits him like a brick to the chest, winding him for a moment, because here he is, bitching down the phone whilst his two best friends in the world are hanging out, disgustingly in love, at Robin’s house.

He tells himself again that he’s happy for them.

And he is, but suddenly he feels lonely in a way he hasn’t since Nancy left him two summers ago. He gulps a little, twitching with the urge to hang up when he hears you telling Robin to let you have the phone.

“Steve?”

“(y/n?)”

“Hey, Steve,” You say gently, and Steves softens a little, “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” He assures, before deciding to chance his luck, “You’re at Robin’s?”

A beat of silence passes.

“Well, yeah.” You say, “You were out on a date and Robin and I were bored so…”

“Right.”

“Right.”

Robin says something Steve can’t make out across the phone, and you scold her softly with a sigh. Steve can imagine Robin pestering you, poking at you for your attention.

“Steve, that girl doesn’t deserve you, okay?”

“Huh?”

“Your date.” You clarify, “You deserve better than someone who thinks she’s better than you. You’re a sweet guy, who loves so strongly… and the only people who deserve that love are people who will give it back in the same way. So stop thinking about the idiot who made you feel like shit, and start dating people who deserve you.”

Steve smiles warmly at the conviction in your voice. He nods slowly, though you can’t see it, and you say his name to make sure he’s heard you.

“Yeah, I heard you.” Steve says, “Thanks, (y/n),”

“Don’t thank me, Steve,” You scold gently, “We’re friends.”

His earlier jealousy dissipates and he can hear Robin agreeing from somewhere beside you across the line. It’s been a much needed reminder that even together, you and robin are his friend, first and foremost.

Accordingly, he allows himself one subtle tease.

“When did you become such a romance expert?”

You laugh a little across the phone, and Steve can tell Robin is nudging you when you chuckle a small scolding warning at her to stop.

“Who knows,” You say, “Hey, do you want to come hang out now that you’re free?”

Steve doesn’t need to think about it for long before replying with a no. His jealousy may have been fleeting, but after another terrible date he’s sure the sight of you being all mushy and cute together will only bring it back.

“No, thanks though, (y/n),” He says, “Have a goodnight with Robin, yeah?”

“Of course.”

He hangs the phone back on its cradle and slouches towards the living room, dropping onto the sofa with a sigh.

For all his inner complaining, and unsaid teases, Steve thinks that you might just be restoring his faith in love, just a little.

4.

The fourth time Steve is left witness to your relationship is once again at Family Video, during an early Saturday shift of unpacking deliveries and restocking shelves.

Robin is sat on the floor in front of the thriller section, alphabetising each movie in some irrational way that will only confuse the customers, growing bored of even that.

“I can’t, I can’t do it anymore.” She announces. “I would rather go back to scooping ice cream everyday, and feeding Erica Sinclair free ice cream samples.”

Steve is so bored he agrees.

“It’s not that bad,” You say, the voice of reason. “Do you really want to go back to the sailors' outfits?”

“Oh, maybe not.” Robin admits. “but still, this is dire.”

“I don’t disagree there,” You sigh, leaning against the counter, “I want food.”

Robin perks up, standing somewhat excitedly, causing you to give her a questioning look, but Robin will do anything to get out of here for just ten minutes.

“I will go get you food, please,” Robin says, “Please, I’ll be gone fifteen minutes and I’ll bring us back coffee and-“

“Robin, you can go.” Steve decides, just to stop her rambling, “I’m sure (y/n) and I will be fine.”

“Thank god,” Robin sighs in relief.

She removes her work vest and makes her way towards the back for her coat, tossing it on with a new lease of life in anticipation of leaving.

“I’ll be back in fifteen minutes,” She assures again, turning to you, “What do you want to eat, babe?”

You freeze.

Steve freezes.

Robin takes a moment to realise her own mistake, lips parting in surprise at her own actions. After several moments of determined avoidance of eye contact from everyone, you clear your throat.

“Just some chips and a soda, please.”

Robin nods slowly, turning almost mechanically to Steve, who does his best to seem unperturbed by the situation.

“And you, Sweetcheeks?”

It takes everything in you not to fold with laughter, instead letting out only a muffled whimper as Steve stares at Robin in disbelief.

“Uh, the same.” He decides, “Please.”

Robin nods, turning quickly to the door and disappearing hurriedly without a goodbye, the store bell ringing out behind her.

Steve turns slowly to you, lips parted somewhere between horror and amusement. You give him a simple shrug, returning to emptying your box of tapes.

“Don’t look at me, Sweetcheeks.” You say, “You befriend her first.”

5.

Steve has just about gotten used to it, keeping your little secret to himself. He’s gotten used to looking away when you hold hands in the break room, to keep his lips shut when you tumble into his car together with ruffled hair and smudge lipstick.

He’s even gotten used to that weird feeling that settles in his chest when you spend time without him, though he’s still working on getting rid of it , because only to be expected now that you’re together. And of course, he’s happy for you.

He really is.

But if you and Robin don’t hurry up and get downstairs and into his car within the next five minutes, he’s going to lose it, and all three of you are going to be late for work.

So this one time, fuelled by frustration, he disregards his usual caution, making his way towards your room following permission from your mother to hurry you and Robin along.

Briefly, Steve wonders if your mother doesn’t find it just a little odd for you to be having sleepovers at your age.

Regardless, he takes the stairs two at a time, glancing anxiously at his watch as he finds your room. Then, he makes his first error since that first evening in your basement.

He forgets to knock.

“If you two idiots don’t hurry up and get in my car, we’re all gonna get fired and if I end up sweating in fast food joint again I will personally murder each of you-“

Steve freezes at the sight of you both perched on the end of your bed, holding Robin’s red cheeks in your hands, lips stilled mere millimeters from Robin’s as you meet Steve’s eyes.

“Oh.” Steve realises, “Shit.”

“Steve.” Robin gasps, pulling away from your hands and standing, “We’re just- I was- We were just talking about you, actually and then- shit, I’m making this worse.”

Steve gulps softly, backing slowly out the room. He allows his relief at finding you full dressed, and therefore, if nothing else, ready to get to work.

“I’m sorry,” He decides, “I’m just going to meet you in the car… okay?”

“O-okay.” Robin nods, “We’ll be there in a second.”

Steve nods slowly, turning once in your hall and slowly, robotically, making his way down stairs, scolding himself for barging in.

+

The drive to work is tensely quiet beyond the occasional reassuring whisper you give Robin in the backseat as Steve desperately avoids your eyes in the rear view mirror.

After what feels like far too long, he’s pulling into the Family Video parking lot, pulling the handbrake and taking his keys from the ignition, inviting an even worse silence into the car.

“So, uh…” Steve begins, “There’s a delivery coming in at four and then we’ve got a few returns due today-“

“Steve,” Robin speaks up, “About earlier…”

“What happened earlier?” Steve feigns with a nervous chuckle. “Did something happen earlier?”

You smile a little, sitting up to lean forward, balancing yourself with a hand on the front passenger seat. When he meets your eyes, he has to bite his lip to stop from revealing everything.

“Steve, it’s fine,” You assure, “We can talk about it.”

Steve glances back at Robin, who, though a little nervous, nods in agreement.

“Okay.” He nods, “So…”

He waits expectantly for the speech, trying to decide who will break the news he’s been pretending to know nothing about for weeks. He hears you take a deep breath, preparing yourself for something well put together when Robin can’t help but blurt it out.

“We’re dating,” She blurts softly, “Like, we’re girlfriends who hold hands and kiss and stuff, you know? Oh, you do because you just saw it- please help, (y/n).”

You give Robin a disbelieving look, and Steve almost laughs.

“Robin, the reason we’re in this mess is because we meticulously planned what we were going to say.” You remind her, “and you decide to go with we ‘kiss and stuff’?”

“I don’t know, I panicked!”

“Oh my god,” You exhale, “You’re so lucky I love you, Buckley.”

The look that settles on Robin’s face, warm and utterly smitten, makes Steve feel oddly proud for the pair of you, and in a single expression, any jealousy or hurt he’d been holding onto for your relationship disappears. As you begin with a more rational explanation, Steve can’t help his growing grin.

“You see, we were planning on tell you today, and Robin was stressing which is why we were late and you, um, caught us.” You explain, “Because we wanted to tell you ourselves that we are dating, and we didn’t tell you because we didn’t want you think you weren’t important to us anymore- you’re our bestfriend, Sweetcheeks.”

Steve doesn’t even scowl at the nickname that has someone caught on since the slip up the week before. He nods slowly, grateful for your thoughtfulness, but you can’t help but frown at his knowing smile.

“Oh.” You sigh, “You know…”

“I-“ Steve falters, “I do.”

You sink back into the back seat, folding your arms in exasperation.

“Why even bother making a speech,” You grumble, “Your girlfriend reduces it to a single panicked sentence and your best friend already knows.”

Steve gives her a sympathetic look as Robin drops her chin onto your shoulder, smiling apologetically, and kissing your cheek in the hopes of returning your smile.

Inevitably, it does the trick, and you’re slowly smiling, rolling your eyes for a moment before sitting up and leaning forward to press a hand against Steve’s shoulder.

“Is this okay?” She asks, “We understand if you’re mad that we didn’t tell you… you’re still our best friend and we don’t want anything to jeopardise that.”

“(y/n), i’m fine,” He says, “I’ve known since I crashed your movie date weeks ago…”

“Why not say something.”

Steve glances back at Robin for a second.

“You were getting your chance at all the mushy, romantic shit.” He shrugs, “If me knowing was going to bring too much reality into that for you, then I wasn’t going to get in your way.”

Robin gives him a knowing smile in the rear mirror, nodding gratefully in silent appreciation. You can’t help the urge to lean over and kiss his cheek.

“That’s really thoughtful of you, Sweetcheeks,”

Steve waves it off dismissively.

“It’s nothing,” He says, “and it’s been a bit to get used to, but I know that even if you two are all gross and in love, we’re all still friends… even if that means I have to third wheel.”

“Well, if we ever make you feel like that you can just say, you know.”

“I know,” Steve assures, “Really guys, I’m fine, okay? I just want to pretend I didn’t barge in on you kissing.”

“That was just a reassuring peck,” Robin scoffs, “When I really kiss her, you’ll know.”

Steve’s nose crinkles in disgust as you laugh, shoving Robin playful as she leans towards your lips with a smirk, turning to give Steve an exasperated look.

“Hey, don’t look at me, Honey Pie,” Steve gives you a shrug. “You’re the girlfriend.”

𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐑𝐎𝐁𝐈𝐍 𝐁𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐋𝐄𝐘 ; 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒 ❀

summary: series of random headcanons for what it’s like dating everyone’s favourite lesbian: robin buckley.

word count: 476.

originally posted on my wattpad: -milevenx

some of these are from random blogs that i have taken and changed a little, credits to the owners / accounts i saw

if you can’t tell, robin is my favourite character<3

—————

THE FIRST FEW WEEKS OF YOUR RELATIONSHIP.

❀ her being super awkward, since she probably hasn't had much relationship experience (and neither have you).

❀ also being super nervous!!

❀ constantly blushing, no matter what. you could just stand next to her and she's blushing like hell. you can't hold her hands without her face just going red and eventually beaming.

❀ you both just referring to each other as 'my girlfriend', more so her - but only to your friends :(.

"anyways. my girlfriend-"

"i swear to god, robin. if you don't stop referring to y/n as your girlfriend i swear to lord jesus above-"

❀ you both being nervous to kiss each other, and staring longingly at each other's lips before just eventually going for it and realising you should've done it beforehand.

❀ when you're talking about literally anything, she always has wild hand gestures and rambles about the subject. whether it be a book or a movie, or steve. anything.

❀ never knows where to put her hands. whether you're kissing, hugging or just simply sitting or laying next to each other. she soon learns that she just likes to hook her arms around your waist.

❀ makeouts and any other intimate situations are gentle and loving. she'd never want to hurt you and always focuses on you mainly.

❀ despite probably knowing each other for a while, she would ask you questions about yourself to get to know you better. even ones she already knows

"okay, okay, your birthday?"

"robin, baby, you already know that."

❀ OKAY I AM A SUCKER FOR THIS. she would ask you for your favourite movies and books and force herself to read and watch them even if she doesn't like them.

❀ ^^ then proceeds to talk to you about them for HOURS, because she loves you so much.

❀ pet names!!!!! this is a huge one, she'd be obsessed. names like 'baby', 'darling', 'my girl', perhaps even 'wifey'.

❀ always taking you on movie and library dates to watch the latest movies and share junk food; and to read books and eat fruits (especially strawberries with sugar on top). super specific but i think that's adorable.

❀ honestly, she is touch-starved. please give her attention. she loves to cuddle you, soon after finding out she's been deprived of them her entire life.

— touch-starved robin buckley gives me life.

•°. *࿐˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀

444, you’re okay, i promise.

444 | a sign that one should keep faith and that the angels are watching over one. They have taken it on themselves to guide one to a brighter future. If one sees this number, especially if it recurs, it is an indication that one should give up all doubts on issues related to ambitions and act decisively.

yearning - robin buckley x fem!reader

summary: robin buckley has never fell for someone they way she has for you, but the way you feel for her contrasts the way she does hugely.

word count : 2,302.

originally posted on my wattpad account: -milevenx. go follow!

dedicated to ffearthingss on wattpad<3

the ending is super rushed, it took 2 weeks to write and edit so it sucks nearer the ending:(

————————————

am i allowed to look at her like that?

robin's eyes softened and her smile grew as she stared adoringly at the girl she loved most from across the class. you and robin had been best friends for a few years, becoming close after you joined band.

you had a problem with your instrument, and robin ran over to help you. blushing profusely, she explained what was wrong and how to fix it, before helping you out. from that encounter onwards, you just became closer.

close enough for you to see her as a sister and for her to fall deeply inlove with you. steve and the party could honestly tell she was head over heels for you, except you. she adored everything about you.

the way she laughed at all your jokes, and admired the way you laughed at anyone else's. the way you'd stick up for the party and her. the way you spoke and put up with her rambling. the way you dressed and did your hair. the way you'd help anyone with anything.

she was inlove with you and the way you were.

she didn't stop staring at you, and - if it was even possible - her smile grew and grew. it wasn't long before she snapped out of it, soon realising the looks she was getting. your friends were pointing and whispering, and other people in class were staring at her. however, in the midst of it all, there you were smiling back at her, giving her a sense of comfort.

could it be wrong

when she's just so nice to look at?

the bell rang, and you waited for robin next to the door of the classroom. she walked out of the class after a short conversation with the teacher about her 'focus being off'.

"hey robin!" you greeted as she walked to you. she smiled widely at you, returning the smile you were giving her.

"hey y/n/n," she spoke, smile evident in her words. "would you wanna hang out with me later? we can just go to mine and watch a movie."

you agreed instantly since movie nights were a usual thing for you to do with each other. you'd binge-eat, while watching movies the other person chose. you often took turns to choose movies and neither of you ever complained.

as you were walking to the lunch hall, you began to build courage to ask her a question. it was a silly question really, but you didn't know how she'd react.

"uhm, robin," you started, robin turned to look at you and hummed a short 'hmm?'. "please don't take this the wrong way, but.. why were you staring at me in class?"

robin stopped in her tracks and started going red. her freckles were almost indistinguishable through the redness of her newly-found blush.

"is it wrong?" she asked, fear laced in her words.

"not at all, just wondering is all."

"well, i think you're nice to look at." she stated bluntly, going even more red than before. her heart started beating through her chest, and her palms got sweatier and sweatier by the minute.

why the fuck would she say that? you were straight! you would never love her. you liked men. thoughts like this ran freely through robin's head, making her feel stupid.

you chuckled, bringing her back to reality, "well, lucky for you, i think you're wonderful to look at," you joked, though, to robin, it wasn't funny. she was inlove with you! and, through all the jokes and mild teasing, she knew you didn't reciprocate her feelings. robin bit her lip and began walking again, leaving you behind.

and she smells like lemongrass and sleep

she tastes like apple juice and peach

oh, you would find her in a polaroid picture

and she means everything to me

you didn't see robin for the rest of the day, and when you didn't see her at your regular meeting spot, you assumed you'd hurt her feelings during your most recent conversation so she just went home. this thought saddened you, but you shrugged it off and decided you'd just talk to her the next day.

robin sat in her room, flicking through her magazine before throwing it onto her desk. she stood from her chair and walked over to her bed to lie down. thoughts of you immediately rushed into her head. what you smell like, and would probably taste like. the way you looked.

you smelt like lemongrass, and sleep. you would taste like apple juice and peach, two things you ate and drank on a daily basis, and, in her eyes, she thought you'd be found in a polaroid picture. because you were just simply beautiful.

she sighed, knowing that although you'd never disclosed your sexuality to anyone or her - despite being her best friend - you'd never love her the way she loves you. she was helpless. she decided that instead of sulking about not having the girl of her dreams, she'd think about everything she loved about being your best friend. every thought had to be about you.

oh, oh

i'd never tell

no, i'd never say a word

she thought hard for around ten minutes, but all she could think of was how much you meant to her. and that was a whole lot, and she couldn't screw the friendship up. what if, when she did finally get the courage to ask you out, you rejected her? and that meant she completely fucked your friendship up? what if she never even got the courage to do it in the first place?

and that's exactly what happened, she decided that she just wasn't going to tell you. she didn't want to ruin anything. she didn't have the courage.

and oh, it aches

but it feels oddly good to hurt

the next day came around slowly for you, but quickly for robin. you wanted answers, and so did she; yet, for different things. you wanted to know what the hell was up with your best friend, and she wanted to know if you loved her the same. the biggest difference, however, was that you were actually going to ask.

you caught robin in the sports hall at break, getting ready for the pep rally that was going to happen the following day. she always enjoyed being prepared.

"hey, robin," you smiled. "we missed our movie night last night." you smiled wider, obviously faking it since she left you waiting at your meeting spot, trying to ease her into conversation due to her reaction yesterday. she looked up at you and then looked away almost instantly.

"uhm, did i say anything bad to you, you know. yesterday?" you asked, voice breaking. this broke robin's heart even further, aching terribly. you walked closer to her and sat down next to her.

and she smells like lemongrass and sleep

she tastes like apple juice and peach

oh, you would find her in a polaroid picture

and she means everything to me

you were sat close enough for her to fully take in everything about you. she was correct, you really did smell like lemongrass and sleep. your breath smelt like apple juice and peach, meaning it must've tasted like that too. and you were certainly dressed to impress, confirming her suspicions that you'd be found in a polaroid picture, and you definitely meant everything to robin.

after she'd admired you briefly, she answered you; "no, i was just having an off day," which was understandable, she'd been caught staring at a girl in the middle of class. robin waved all of your other questions off with a smile and a small nod or shake of her head. the bell rang, and you walked together to class, one where, yet again, you sat nowhere near her. she knew she'd end up staring again, so robin had to just try not to get caught.

around thirty minutes had gone by, and partner work had begun. she watched the way you threw your head back and laughed loudly at whatever stupid joke your friend told you, and the way you messed around with your hair and the pencil in your hand.

and i'll be okay,

admiring from afar,

'cause even when she's next to me,

we could not be more far apart

she found herself admiring you again, feeling more distressed with every second that passed. she wondered if she ever got you, would you ever be as happy with her as you were with your friends?

but robin forced herself into thinking she was okay with the feeling of having to admire you from across the room.

the day went quickly, you'd gotten your answers, and you were both looking forward to the movie night you'd replanned at lunchtime since you missed the last one.

you and robin were walking back to her place after picking out a few movies from family video, the place she worked at alongside steve 'the hair' harrington; someone you weren't exactly familiar with but had heard lots about.

this time, it was robin's turn to choose the movies. she chose the first two karate kid movies, two movies you enjoyed immensely but she never got around to watching.

"i can't believe you've never watched the karate kid movies!" you laughed, "ralph macchio in it is just gorgeous." you nudged robin.

"i bet he is." robin replied bluntly. you didn't even know she was into girls, not guys, and robin knew this. also knew that if she kept up with the shitty, uninterested tone, you'd soon figure it out. you weren't dumb.

and so, she decided to try and be happier.

try.

when you reached her place, you ran to her couch to put the movie on while she grabbed your favourite snacks - which she knew off the top of her head - and then sat carefully beside you.

the movie began, and the first hour of the movie night was going great. you and her were both concentrating on the movie, but then robin had the sudden urge to look at you, something she was trying to avoid doing. to not forget the movie and be so attentive towards you.

she did it, she gave in. she started watching you, the way you were delighting in watching ralph macchio play a boy called daniel larusso. the way you quite obviously felt a huge admiration for him. the way you adored his accent, looks, and the way he moved.

the way you felt such fondness for a boy.

the way you felt so far from her. emotionally, physically, mentally. you just felt like you weren't there. robin didn't know how, or why. it just felt wrong to see you like that.

'cause she tastes like birthday cake,

and storytime, and fall

but to her, i taste of nothing at all

you ended up sleeping over that night at robin's house, leaning into her side as you slept peacefully. she did what she always did, admired you. though, it wasn't creepily. it was full of love and fear; full of time and happiness; full of pure sensation and joy.

the look of love.

robin decided to try and go back to sleep, but thoughts of you flooded her head again. the same one as before. what you'd taste like. this time, she thought of birthday cake, and storytime, and fall. if they had tastes, which they do.

she started to think about the smells and tastes she associates you with, and that they're all good and come to her instantly.

though, to you, she tastes of nothing at all.

you just simply have no attraction to her.

whatsoever.

and she smells like lemongrass and sleep.

and she tastes like apple juice and peach.

you would find her in a polaroid picture.

and she means everything to me.

yes, she means everything to me.

she means everything to me.

robin wrote these words frantically in her diary the night you went home from your accidental sleepover. pouring her heart onto the pages, crying to slow romantic music and the words she was so sadly jotting down on the paper, with the karate kid movies playing in the background. anything to make her feel better.

she felt like she'd been stabbed in the heart repeatedly, like she'd gone through the worst breakup ever, or the worst rejection.

and all you had to do was sit next to her and gawk at ralph macchio and leave her to her thoughts for five minutes.

long enough to break her own heart.

you had a huge impact on her, and she hated that. and what she hated even more was that if you knew that, you'd also hate it. you'd hate it the most, you always just wanted the best for robin.

and what she thought was the best for herself, was to have you. to get the girl. but, she couldn't force you. so she wouldn't.

and she never would.

•°. *࿐˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀

OMGOMOGM I HOPE YOU LIKED THIS ONE. I LOVE IT SO MUCH<3333

AND IM SORRY IF YOU DONT LIKE DANIEL LARUSSO/RALPH MACCHIO OR ANYTHING ELSE IN THIS THAT I SAID THE READER LIKES, I JUST WANTED TO ADD IN MY OWN INTERESTS

222. you're safe here.

222 | a message of hope, representative of balance, harmony, life choices, commitment, compromise, and trust. it's a sign you can build on your current situation to achieve your goals and more

Shying Away

A/n: I hope I did well on this for you! I haven’t written in a while! Also I love the idea!

Pairing: Robin Buckley x fem!reader

Summary: Steve helps you out with your longing for Robin to notice you

Warnings: fluff,heartache,cussing, sexual tension,Steve being Steve,smut

“You know staring won’t do anything you know that right?” You turn around seeing Steve leaning against the wall.

You sigh and drop your gaze from Robin and Vickie who are currently talking about something important.

“There’s nothing wrong with admiring someone Steve. You should know you do it all the time with Nancy.” You grab a hand full of movies and start putting them back onto the shelves.

“I can help you out you know, with admitting your feelings for robin.”

You shrug. “I don’t know Steve what if she doesn’t like me and what if I ruin our friendship?”

Steve sighs before putting a movie on the shelf. “You won’t I promise and look Vickie just left it’s worth a shot right now.”

“Fine.” You walk over to robin smiling. Before you could get a word in she speaks. “We’re going on a date! Okay okay, can you believe it?! Holy shit!”

Your smile falls from your face but not wanting robin to notice you put on a fake smile for her. “I’m really happy for you robin but I am off so I’ll talk to you later.”

You grab your stuff behind the counter and walk out getting into your car and slamming the door.

“Is she okay?” Robin looks at Steve who has a frown on his face.

“What did you say to her?” He says coming around the counter.

“I just said that me and Vickie are going out in a date, why would she be upset about that?”

“She was going to ask you out Robin! Fuck, don’t you see she’s in love with you and you’ve been to busy with vickie to notice!”

“No she’s not come on Steve we all know if anyone she’s in love with it’s you.”

“Robin you are one of my best friends but you are really stupid sometimes, Y/n is my cousin, but that doesn’t matter right now but what does is that she had everything planned if you said yes. She’s been in love with you since we starting working at Scoops ahoy and now here at family video.”

“I didn’t know I just thought why would someone like her be in love with me? I’m a nobody, she was the queen in high school and you where the king so I just assumed it was that everyone thought you would be the perfect couple. I feel terrible now I just thought she wouldn’t wanna be with me. Fuck cover for me please?”

“You know I will go get her and cancel that date with Vickie! Oh and here!” He says tossing his keys to the house.

“I will!” Robin runs out of the store getting onto her bike and heads towards your house.

After crying for a while you fall asleep from exhaustion, only to be woken up with the feel of soft fingers moving your hair back from your face.

Opening your eyes you see Robin looking down at you. “What are you going here?”

“Steve told me so I cancelled my date with Vickie and before you say you didn’t have to do that,yes I did because I’m not gonna go out on a date with someone I thought I loved when the person I did love was right in front of me the whole time and to be fair I thought you where in love with Steve,well that was until he told me you guys where related I’ve never felt more embarrassed in my life.” She smiles

You sit up looking into her eyes. “Do you really mean it? Being in love with me? Because I won’t be able to handle it if your just trying to make me feel better.”

“I promise.” Robin reply’s putting her hand on your waist lifting you onto her lap.

“Can I?” You say looking down at her lips

“Not gonna stop you.”

You lean down kissing her lips feeling the softness of her lips against yours. Deepening the kiss you hold her closer to you before adding your tongue.

Robin lets out a soft moan feeling you grip her hair while grinding onto her. Hearing you gasp at the feeling of her jeans rub against your clit that has a thin barrier separating you guys fully.

You mumble a “please” against her lips.

She rubs her hand down your thigh under your skirt before reaching underneath your panties connecting with your clit.

She feels you grip he shoulders trying to rock against her but her other hand stops you. Your about to say something but you get stopped as you feel Robin starting to slowly rub your clit in slow circles.

You lay your head into her neck feeling the movements of her hand go faster. You whimper feeling light kisses on your neck.

“Shh baby it’s okay let it out, I wanna hear your pretty sounds.” The darkness in her voice sparks something in you and sends you over the edge. You grip her shoulders tightly as she rides out your orgasm, feeling your legs shake around hers.

Taking deep breath’s you slowly relax and lay against her. She removes her hand laying you down and holding you against her.

You cuddle into her, kissing her cheek before falling asleep in her arms.

“I’ll be right here when you wake up sweetheart.”

Tag-list: @andormeddows

Comment to be put in all stranger things /robin tag list

DC ✢ When he admitted he loved you

Characters: Bruce, Dick, Jason, Tim, Damian and Clark. This is a companion piece to another headcanon called 'When he realised he loved you' linked here. Though, you can still read it independently.

B R U C E⠀W A Y N E

Bruce did not say it in a quiet moment — for such moments were rare. Though, when they did find him, he spent them with you in silence. Not with words but simply by being near, by existing in your presence.

No. It came during an argument. One of those arguments that shakes the very foundations of a relationship — not because of what was said, but because of what had never been, what was expected.

You had asked him — raw, wounded — what you meant to him. What all this was. Why he kept forming barriers between you, when all you had ever wanted to do was break through.

His answer had been frigid. Precise. Calculated and sharpened. A blade forged from old habits, Bruce wielded it with an unconscious mastery, a last-ditch defence mechanism perfected over decades.

You left. Not in fury, but in heartbreak, disappointment — the kind that does not cry, does not scream, but simply broods into silence. Your absence rang louder than a slammed door, louder than any yell you could have mustered.

Alfred did not speak. Just passed Bruce in the hallway with the kind of look that had once made him sit straighter as a boy. And now, it made him feel small once more, as though he were still a child.

Time passed and still, silence.

He found you in the garden, beneath a sky now thick with stars, the sun had still been gleaming when you had hurried away. You had not been crying. You were still. And in that stillness, he saw the damage he had inflicted upon you.

‘I can’t seem to protect what I love,’ he said, words fractured, conflicted. ‘Not my parents. Not Jason… Not you —’ 

You turned. Not startled by the confession, but by the break in his voice. You had never seen him like this before, never so fragile. 

‘But I do. I love you. I want… I need you to know that.’

It was not cinematic. No kiss. No arms thrown around shoulders. Just him, standing before you, hollowed by an atypical honesty, praying you would believe him — even if he was undeserving of that trust.

And you did. You believed him. Bruce could see it in the ease of your countenance, in the smile that now warmed your face. But even so, he apologised as though he had committed a most heinous crime.

You pulled yourself to your feet, still wordless. And enveloped him in your arms.

‘I love you too, Bruce.’

D I C K⠀G R A Y S O N

Dick meant to say it casually — with that charming nonchalance that usually came so naturally to him. He had rehearsed it, even. Smiled in the mirror once or twice. But it never felt right, never felt adequate. It was too simple a word to describe what he felt for you. 

But love, he discovered, should not wait for perfect timing.

It came unexpectedly late one evening, while a movie played in the background — some low-budget film neither of you had been truly watching. Your head was on his shoulder. His thumb was tracing invisible shapes into your side.

And then — suddenly breathless, it had grown too large to contain, he could not hold it any longer,

‘You know I love you, right?’

You blinked like someone newly roused from a dream, and looked at him as though he had spoken in a foreign language. Dick was not confident he had not. 

When you remained quiet, he chuckled, uneasy. And brought his hand to the back of his neck, in a nervous, boyish manner. 

‘I mean — I have. For a while. I just didn’t want to ruin it by...’ He trailed off, not quite sure what he was saying. 

You remained quiet for a few moments more, contemplating. The juncture of silence stretched taut, he held his breath. And then you smiled. 

As soft as the moonlight now shining through the curtains, you whispered, ‘I love you, too.’

He kissed you gently, as though he were trying to make up for all the times he had not said it sooner. In that moment, he was not Dick Grayson, he was not Nightwing or the Boy Wonder — he was simply someone lucky enough to be loved by you.

To this day, he cannot for the life of him remember the movie that had been playing. All he could remember was that smile — the way it had already lit up your eyes by the time it reached your mouth and the enthralling, glowing warmth that had flooded his system.

J A S O N⠀T O D D

You were stitching him up again — hands steady, breath shallow, a routine so familiar it hurt. Nothing fatal. Nothing new. His form was half-draped in shadow, skin cold under your touch. You sat cross-legged before him. 

‘You’ve got to stop doing this,’ you murmured, not for the first time and certainly not the last. 

He did not answer. Because what would he tell you? Not the truth, you would not want to hear it. Every stitched-up wound felt like proof that you cared; he could not resist the temptation. He did not believe you could love a man like him, but when he felt your gentle fingers work over his skin, he let himself consider it; he let himself yearn. 

‘I’d die for you, you know?’ he muttered. Off-handed. As though it were the most obvious thing, as though it were as easy as breathing.

A frown turned your face. ‘That’s not comforting, Jason.’

And then — something unspooled. A thread that had been pulled too tight for too long. Jason sighed.

‘What I was trying to say… What I meant was… I love you —’ He looked into your eyes, gaze piercing, willing you to see the truth of it. 

The words had flooded out like a barrage breaking open. ‘That’s all I’m trying to say. I’d die for you because… I can’t picture a world without you in it. I wouldn’t want to.’ He shivered at this, at the concept of a sphere you did not grace, the very notion made him ill. 

You stilled. Hands held suspended above him, pausing their work.

He was not looking for a response — only a release; he had needed this off his chest. But you gave him one anyway.

‘I love you, too.’ You had uttered it so softly, had Jason not already been watching your lips, he may have missed it. His breath caught — not in fear, but in awe — as though his lungs had momentarily forgotten their most natural function.

Your words felt like electricity brimming beneath his skin — like every nerve had been awoken at once. A new fullness bloomed within his chest, as though the ribs could no longer host his heart; as if it had suddenly grown too large to contain.

He spoke up again, softer this time,  ‘I’ll try to live for you too. That part’s harder. But believe me when I say I want it. More than anything.’ He gave you one of his rare smiles, and your heart jolted.

You silently placed the first aid materials to the side and leaned in, placing your head against his shoulder. After a short while you shifted, leaving scattered kisses across his fading scars, lingering on each for a moment, he felt that same electricity once more. 

Your hands ghosted over him like he were something precious, as though the ruin of him was worth loving, and that was the message you were trying to convey, what you were trying to have him understand.

Jason did not sleep that night. Not out of pain or panic, but because he was afraid it had been a dream. That peace, for someone like him, was more fragile, more fleeting than any reverie; and he could not stand the idea of waking up.

T I M⠀D R A K E

You both had been working late, each focused on your own tasks, yet relishing in the silent company of one another; the peace of it. Tim sat at his desk, while you lay across his bed, legs swinging behind you with a pen in hand.

Tim had asked you to stay at the manor for the night, but you had gently refused, reminding him you had work in the morning. You got up and walked over, placing both hands on either shoulder. You then pressed a kiss to his temple and whispered in his ear.

‘I better head off now.’ He leaned his head back into you, and his eyes met yours, smiling.

And then — too casually, too instinctively — he said, ‘Okay, love you.’

The words had flowed out like a torrent. A sudden, unexpected failure in his system.

Then a silence dropped like a stone in deep water — sudden, heavy, and irreversible; absolute.

He froze. His eyes were wide, as though the phrase had been spoken by an imposter, by someone else within his skin. He had known this fact for a long time, it had only been a matter of time.

‘I didn’t — I mean — that wasn’t—well, it was, but —’ He stopped. His words crashed over each other, panicked and sputtered.

You tilted your head. Shock the dominant expression on your face.

‘You love me?’

He nodded, slowly, it would be silly to deny it; to lie. Shame crept into the corners of his expression. What if he had said it too soon? What if the word drew you away?  Then suddenly you smiled, as though you had been waiting for this exact failure, this exact slip-up.

‘Well… that’s good,’ your whisper was tender. ‘Because I love you too.’

And just like that, his spiralling mind halted. His thoughts — so often a storm of what-ifs and whys — were suddenly still.

And in that stillness, something shifted.

The tension in his shoulders eased and melted away. He let out a breath he had not realised he had been holding — shaky, but smiling. It was not his usual tight-lipped smirk, nor the polite upward curve he would give strangers — this one was real. Quiet, disbelieving and full.

You leaned downward and rested your forehead against his, your hand moving to cradle his cheek. Tim leaned into it like he had been starved of its softness. You spoke through a grin.

‘Maybe I should stick around. Was that your plan all along?’

D A M I A N⠀W A Y N E⠀(Aged up as Batman)

Damian did not like the word love. Not at first. The word felt paltry. Trite. A flippant syllable never built to hold the sheer weight of what he carried for you.

You had just bested him in sparring. You always did, but only because he allowed it — Damian would sooner impale himself on his training blade than admit it, but it was not as though you were unaware. You had thought it cute, an adjective you would never dare utter to his face. 

Damian had no shortage of self-pride. The fact he was willing to sacrifice it, simply to please you, always left you breathless. 

You extended your hand to guide him up, but he simply stared at it from his place on the mat, his gaze shifting upward. You were standing over him, a barely contained smirk donning your features. 

‘You do not understand what you mean to me,’ he said, voice low and filled with a thousand ulterior meanings, though they bled through, his tone turning earnest.

You did not speak. You simply waited.

‘This feeling,’ he tried again, ‘it disrupts everything. My training. My thoughts. My plans. Everything. It… it…’ He trailed off, not sure how to finish what he was saying, not confident that the words capable of conveying these feelings were extant across any vernacular, it seemed too implausible. 

You smiled, faintly. ‘You mean love?’

He flinched like you had cursed. But then — after a moment — he nodded.

‘Yes. That.’ It was not enough, but he figured he would concede. ‘I feel it. Unwillingly. But truthfully.’

You laughed, it was warm and bell-like. It struck something tender in him, something still learning to hope.

‘I love you too, Damian.’

How was it, that word he had held with such contempt, such scrutiny and scepticism, was suddenly so weighted, so gorgeous uttered from your lips? How was it so impactful now it was directed towards him? 

He looked away, not from shame, but from overwhelm. He had fought assassins, atrocious criminals, and the weight of his father’s legacy — but never had he felt something as all-consuming as being wanted, as overwhelming as the thought of your love.

C L A R K⠀K E N T

He had told you on a rooftop. Not because it was histrionic, but because it was distant — far above the world’s inescapable noise, yet still beneath its stars. 

You were talking about something entirely ordinary. Rent, perhaps. The cost of your water bill.

But he was not listening, not truly. He watched as your lips moved and thought only of how he yearned to kiss them, to wake up to them each and every morning. 

And then he looked at you. Really looked. And the words came like wind through the ether — soft, inevitable.

‘I love you.’ He had cut you off, but it needed to be said. He could not have lived another moment without these words held suspended between you. 

You smiled, easy. ‘I know.’

But he shook his head. Shifting closer. There was an ache in his voice, a gravity to it.

‘No. I love you. Not in the way people say when they’re hanging up the phone. Or when they leave for work in the morning. I love you like… like…’ He paused, eyebrows furrowed, ‘I’m not sure I can put it into words —’ He places his hands on either side of your cheeks. 

You stopped breathing.

‘You’ve given me something no one else has,’ he said, his voice near breaking. ‘Not because you wanted a hero. But because you saw me — as nothing more than a man. The farmboy. The one who still forgets to fold his laundry, after you’ve already asked him five times…’

You let out a sudden laugh, but it was not for his joke, your joy at his admission could not be contained; it surged out. You kissed him.

‘I love you, too.’ You murmured, Clark could hear the smile within your voice. Then he thought of the stars glimmering upon them, they shone bright, yet still somehow paled in your comparison. 

I was thinking of expanding upon the Jason Todd section and turning it into its own one-shot, would anyone be interested in that? Every comment and piece of advice is welcomed and appreciated <3

DC ✢ When he realised he loved you

Characters: Bruce, Dick, Jason, Tim, Damian and Clark.

B R U C E⠀W A Y N E

The moment had been a quiet revelation, in a silence so profound it frightened him. The kind of silence that followed the first crack of thunder, one moment loud and undeniable, the next building with tension, waiting for it to strike again. 

You were sitting in the library of the manor, an arcane book resting open upon your lap, the fire crackling softly behind you. He had just returned from patrol — broken, bloodied, and defeated.

You looked up, eyes wide, alarmed at his state and asked, ‘Bruce?’ You had spoken as if he were not the Batman, not an emblem of vengeance and grit, but a man, just a man, whose hurt mattered.

Something in him gave out. Not in an ostentatious, cinematic collapse, but in the subtle yielding of defences too long held taut. His mind, a fortress of rationale and boundaries, fell silent.

She sees me, for all I am, it whispered. And yet she stays.

He had not believed in unconditional love since the alleyway. But in that moment, with the stench of blood from his suit and the leaden weight of the city upon his back, he saw love for what it was — not a sanctuary, but a quiet understanding, and a choosing. And she had chosen him.

It terrified him. Because now he had yet another thing to lose, to protect, something that was not abstract. It had a name. A voice. A laugh. It sat in his home and softened his world.

He had never been the same since.

D I C K⠀G R A Y S O N

It crept up on him — not a wave, but rather a tide. Quiet and constant and utterly irreversible.

You had fallen asleep in his bed, still holding a game controller, your brow furrowed even in your unconsciousness. He watched you in the blue glow of the screen and thought, God, I’d die for her.

And then came the laugh — low, bitter, surprised. Because of course he would. He was always ready to die for someone.

But this felt different. This was not a compulsion, a sense of duty. It was not about legacy or guilt. It was about you. And the way your presence grounded the part of him that had always been just suspended above the world, half-grieving, half-trying.

He remembered kissing your forehead before leaving for patrol that night. Slow. Lingering. The kind of kiss that was not about want, but reverence.

That was when he knew.

Love was not a thrill. It was a weight. And he had never wanted anything to anchor him, to tether him to this sphere, more than you.

The realisation made him smile. And then it made him ache.

J A S O N⠀T O D D

Jason felt it like the first rays of sun upon his back after a piercing winter, it flooded his system, warm and compelling. It struck him all of a sudden — new, unfamiliar, and… unwelcome. He did not want it. He had not asked for it.

You were brushing your teeth, half-asleep, wearing one of his old shirts, humming a song under your breath as though nothing was wrong in the world, as though it were not in a state of disrepair just beyond the window. And while watching you, he could believe it for a moment too.

Jason stood in the doorway, paralysed. Because he had seen too much tragedy, too much carnage. He could hardly believe that a quiet instant of peace, like this, could even exist, let alone in his reality.

His first instinct was to run. Not literally — he could never leave you. But to emotionally retreat, to steel himself for the moment this fleeting softness was stolen from him.

But you looked at him. Just looked — toothpaste foam and all — with a kind of amused concern, and asked, ‘You okay?’

After everything he had been through. He was not sure he had ever been less okay.

He loved you. He loved you with a passion that made him feel unworthy, as if he had tainted something holy.

A voice in him protested — said it was weakness. Said this would end in catastrophe. But he ignored it, just this once. He stepped forward and kissed your temple.

‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘Just tired.’ But he was not. This was a lie. His mind was reeling.

He did not sleep that night. He lay awake memorising your breathing.

T I M⠀D R A K E

It was a question you asked that did it. Something ordinary, like, ‘Did you eat today?’

Tim wanted to laugh because it was such a cliché, wasn’t it? But clichés exist because they are true. No one ever asked him that, not like you had, not like it genuinely mattered. 

Then you brought him a coffee, one of those orders so tailored it was essentially an identity. You did not need to ask what he wanted. You simply knew.

He blinked down at the cup, then at you, and suddenly the task he was completing meant nothing.

He felt the world tilt. Quietly. Like the axis of his orbit had shifted. And it had.

Love, to Tim, had always been a puzzle he did not have time to solve. A thing for normal people, with normal lives, for people who lacked the responsibility he had garnered.

But there it was — simple, unassuming and irreversible.

He did not tell you. Not for a long time.

But he began cataloguing what made you smile. The way your face changed after a laugh, crinkled and carefree. He noticed the way your eyes sparkled just a little brighter when you spoke of things that made you passionate, and how the corners of your lips turned up when you were lost in a quiet thought.

This love became his sustenance, it was the first time in years he feared forgetting something.

D A M I A N⠀W A Y N E (Aged up as Batman)

It had infuriated him. The sheer idiocy of it.

Love was chemical, juvenile, a distraction. Or so he had been taught. So he had believed.

And yet there he stood — across from you in the garden, where you were speaking to a stray dog as if it were royalty, and something in his chest pulled.

At first, he mistook it for contempt — annoyance at your softness in a moment where he was attempting to be serious. But then you looked up, grinned, and said, ‘I think she likes me.’

And the words caught in his throat. Not because he did not believe them, but because he liked you. Against every grain of his upbringing.

He wanted to scold you, retreat, build walls. But instead, he asked the cat’s name.

That was the beginning. The fracture.

He loved you. In an old, mythic sense. In the way poets spoke of their love — fierce, unyielding, as though it could bend the very fabric of time. 

And that it did, time slowed every time you entered his concentration.

He began to dream of futures — a concept once as foreign to him as mercy.

He has not told you. But he will. In his own time. For now, he will continue to relish in it, and continue in this alluring descent. 

C L A R K⠀K E N T

He did not realise. Not at first. Because what he felt for you was too immense, too intrinsic, to label with as small as a word as love.

It was not until you fell asleep in his arms, mumbling about a stressful day, completely unaware of the god you were held by, that it hit him.

You did not see him as Superman. You saw him as Clark Kent. You simply saw him. The man. His hope. His grief.

And he realised then — you are his tether.

He thought of Krypton. Of its loss. Of the gaping emptiness it had left as soon as he had learnt of it. And for the first time in years, he did not feel hollow. He felt… full. He realised, that the planet could never have been home to him like she was. 

You snored softly. He laughed. Then cried.

Love, he realised, was not loud. It was simply your hand over his heart. It was your laughter in the next room. It was your body next to his.

He had not fallen in love. He had found it, unexpected and irrevocable, and for all the power he had been bestowed, this force had left him helpless to resist.

And now he guards it with everything he is. Because you are not just his world.

You are his home.

If you're interested, I've since posted a follow-up called 'When he admitted he loved you' linked, here. Every comment and piece of advice is welcomed and appreciated <3

DC ✢ What scares them and how you help them cope

Characters: Bruce, Dick, Jason, Tim, Damian and Clark.

B R U C E W A Y N E

Bruce, for as long as he can remember, has always suffered in silence. A perpetual brooder.

People have come and gone in his life, but he has never been comfortable opening up to them.

And for the longest time, you were no exception.

Though, as time passed, and an intimate familiarity grew, you began noticing a shift in his behaviour. Where he normally would have isolated himself in the Batcave, overburdened himself with his work, he instead began seeking you out.

In those moments, he would gently approach you, and you would offer him comfort. That was when he finally opened up about his deepest fear, losing the people he loves, especially you.

He is terrified that, despite all his vigilance, one day he will be unable to protect those closest to him and the thought of losing anyone, of them being taken from him, is something he cannot bear to face.

He still does not show his vulnerability easily, but when you are there, he is not as afraid to let his guard down, even if only for a brief moment.

He will never admit it, but he is always so grateful for your presence. Whether it is a quiet moment holding your hand, your steady voice in his ear, or simply leaning against you, he finds comfort. He lets you sit with him, no words necessary, knowing you will stay with him.

D I C K G R A Y S O N

Dick has always been the life of the party, the one who could crack a joke to break any tension in the room, always for the benefit of others.

But as you spent more time with him, you began to notice how he would sometimes go quiet, how his smile fell a bit too easily when he thought no one was looking.

You would see the insecurity flicker across his face; like he was afraid he was not good enough. He was afraid that one day, he would let you down, it would push you to walk away from him and he would be alone.

On the rare occasions that Dick opened up about his fears, it was never in big, dramatic moments. It was during quiet, vulnerable times when you were curled up on the couch, or after a mission where he had felt everything had gone wrong.

He would admit to you, softly, that he worries he is not enough for the people he cares about. That maybe, despite all his effort, he could fail them.

When you reassure him, he would brush it off with a laugh, but deep down, it comforts him more than he lets on. And from that moment, he tries harder to show you just how much he values you.

J A S O N T O D D

Jason’s tough exterior had always seemed nearly impenetrable, to everyone who knew him and you had not been an exception to this rule.

When you first met him, Jason did not want to let you close. He pushed you away. Any attempt at trying to comfort him was futile.

Beneath this façade, there is a deep-rooted fear of being forgotten and unimportant, as though his death had been just another part of Gotham’s tragic history, another statistic.

Slowly, you began to perceive beyond his mask of resentment. During late-night conversations, when he allowed his frustration to ebb away, Jason would reveal just how much he fears that Gotham — or worse, his family — will not remember him as the person he is now, the person behind his carefully constructed veil, the boy he once was.

When Jason lets his walls down, it is never in public. It is solely within quiet, private moments with you, his eyes soft and vulnerable in a manner only you have ever known.

Over the years, you have learnt that showing patience and care, letting him know you are there even when he is at his lowest, is one of the most important ways to help him feel like he matters, to prove you see him for everything that he is, to prove you love the man beneath the veil. 

T I M D RA K E

Tim has always been the strategist, the planner; constantly running scenarios in his mind to ensure things go right.

However, with that constant need for control comes an intense fear of failure and not living up to the expectations he has placed on himself.

Early on, when you spent time with him, you noticed how tightly wound he always was; always thinking, and nearly always overthinking.

There were nights when he would finally collapse into bed, eyes wide with worry, unable to rest. You would feel this unease radiate from him throughout the night.

Tim never truly usually let his fear show, but one night, after a particularly difficult mission where he felt responsible for things that had gone wrong, he finally admitted how much pressure he felt to always be perfect.

You comforted him with a soft smile, telling him that it was okay to not have all the answers and that he, like everyone else, was allowed to make mistakes. You helped him realise the unrealistic expectations he had placed on himself. 

Since then, Tim still overthinks, he still plans, but, at the very least, he has learned, with you by his side, that it is okay to let go sometimes.

D A M I A N W A Y N E (Aged up as Batman)

Damian was fierce and proud, he never outwardly showed weakness if he could help it. His fear was simple, he was terrified that someone would see through this, that he would be perceived as feeble or unworthy of his name.

When you first met him, he wore his arrogance and pride like armour, it was designed to keep people at a distance.

However, as time progressed, you began to notice cracks in this façade; moments where he looked at his family and felt like he was not measuring up.

Damian never directly opened up, but you saw it in the way his shoulders tensed when his father praised others or when he failed at something that he believed should have been effortless.

One day, you found him alone, practising relentlessly in the training room. His frustration was palpable, and when he finally stopped, he turned to you, admitting woefully that he was afraid he would never be as good as his family and never live up to his father’s legacy.

You had been shocked, you had yearned for him to be open with you and had already resigned to the fact it likely would not happen. Despite this, you were quick to reassure him, reminding him that his worth was not measured by perfection, but by who he strived to be.

Over time, he began to trust you more, slowly letting you see the person beneath his well-constructed bravado. Though he would never admit it, your support meant the world to him.

C L A R K K E N T

Clark, the ever-hopeful, never-giving-up superhero, covertly harboured a deep fear of losing control — specifically, of accidentally hurting those he loves with his less-than-ordinary abilities.

His fear was embedded in the idea that his immense capabilities could go terribly astray, causing harm to someone he holds dear.

It is a quiet fear, one he does not often voice, as he does not want to burden you with it. But you can sense it in the way he is constantly holding back, constantly choosing to act in ways that minimise risk, even if it means sacrificing your mutual need for physical affection. 

One evening, after a particularly difficult escapade, where unbeknownst to you, his powers had nearly hurt an innocent bystander, you found him standing in front of the window, his hands clenched in silent frustration. He had been bitterly reminded of how dangerous he could be. If he lacked control for even the briefest of moments, you could be lost to him forever. 

You walked up behind him with the intention of loosening his hands with your own. At first, you made no impression on his unyielding frame, but eventually, he melted into your touch and let you intertwine your fingers. You gently asked him about it, and he admitted his fear, his voice softer than usual.

At this you embraced him, hoping you were not pushing any boundaries after this particular admission. You let him know that you trusted him entirely and that you believed he had an unwavering ability to protect, despite the weight of his fear.

From that night on, while Clark still remained cautious and vigilant, he knew that you were there to support him and, at the very least, you were not afraid of him. 

This is my first-ever attempt at a Headcanon, so any advice would be much appreciated <3