Dick Grayson One-Shots { requests open }

why is this so cute tho? pt 3

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𝗦𝗵𝗶𝗽 (𝗶𝗳 𝗮𝗻𝘆): parley (i was today years old when i found out that this is their ship name and i am here for it lol)

𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 1359

𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: refer to previous parts

𝗧𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗴𝗲𝗿 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: ^^

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𝐚/𝐧: 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐬𝐟 𝐬𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐢 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐥𝐨𝐥. 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭???
𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐚 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝐲𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐥 𝐬𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐣𝐮𝐝𝐠𝐞. 𝐢'𝐦 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐭𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐥

"Ya' better eat all that, Birdie," Harley warned as she set a to-go box in front of Dick. "You're too skinny and I'm not gonna put up with it for a second."

"Harley," Pamela laughed softly, batting her lovers hands away as Harley tried to fidget with a bandage on Dick's face, "leave the poor boy alone. He's been through enough without you mother-hening him."

Dick grinned at the two, dimples intending in his tanned cheeks, "I've never been mother-henned before. I think I kinda like it."

Pamela turned to Dick with a chuckle, "Well, you better get used to it. Harls is the biggest mother-hen on Earth."

"Can ya' blame me?" Harley squawked, squeezing Dick's cheeks like an old lady from church. "Look at this cutie! Look at his lil' curls and his adorable dimples! How could ya' not mother-hen somethin' so cute?"

Dick swatted her hands away with a pout, "I'm not cute! I'm- I'm- I'm rugged."

Harley and Pamela exchanged a look before unanimously squealing, "Aww."

"Oh, my God," Dick groaned playfully. "Are you two gonna be like this all the time?"

"Probably."
"You betcha."

Dick sighed, "Well... it could be worse, I guess. You could be like Bruce and ignore me except for when you need me for something."

Harley narrowed her eyes, "Are ya' sure you don't want me to kill 'em, Birdie? 'Cause I'll kill 'em. I'll make it real slow and real painful."

The teen let out a soft laugh, "It's okay, Harley. Thanks, though."

Harley sighed disappointedly, "Well, okay. You let your Auntie Harley know if ya' change your mind, though, huh?"

Dick nodded with a giggle, "Will do."

Harley nodded, evidently satisfied with this answer, "Good." She shoved a plastic fork into his hand, "Now, eat up, Birdie. We got lots of decisions to make tomorrow and I can't have ya' fading away on me."

Dick smiled hesitantly, "What decisions?"

"Well," Harley started with a childish grin, "we gotta go pick out stuff for your new room, we gots to decide whether ya' want a puppy or a kitten-"

"Nope," Pamela interrupted.

"We gotta go clothes shoppin' 'cause those stuffy clothes ya' got in your bag just ain't gonna work," Harley went on without skipping a beat, "and, best of all, we gotta figure out what your new secret identity name is gonna be. Unless ya' wanna keep Robin, of course."