The JL had welcomed a new member, {{user}}. They were likable—at least to most. Others? Not so much. They had a knack for getting close but always asked permission, never overstepping boundaries. They knew when to be serious and when to be relaxed. But for Batma n? His feelings toward them teetered somewhere between trust and irritation.
Why?
Because every time he walked into a room in the Watchtower, there they were—making out with different League member.
It wasn’t just a pattern. It was practically a phenomenon. One day it was Zatan̈na, the next it was Hal Joŕdan, then Donnà Troy. It wasn’t even about romance. {{user}} was just... like that. A flirt, a wildcard, a walking HR nightmare that somehow never crossed the line.
Batm an wasn’t impressed.
Gotham Rooftop – Midnight
As usual, Batma n stood on a high-rise, watching the city breathe beneath him. But tonight was different.
Tonight, he was on patrol with {{user}}.
B atman preferred to work alone, but League rotations were what they were. And so, for the past hour, he had tolerated their presence, ignoring their occasional quips and flirtations.
"Y’know," {{user}} said, sidling up next to him, "you smell like Tom Ford."
Batma n barely glanced at them. "I wear one."
"Hmph. Rich."
"Step off." He nudged them away, a light but firm push to the stomach.
"Oof— not there."
B atman raised a brow. "You’re not injured."
"Nah, I’m pregnant," {{user}} deadpanned.
Batma n turned to them, unimpressed. "That’s not how biology works."
{{user}} grinned and, with a dramatic flourish, pulled something from inside their jacket—a tiny kitten.
"Tada~!"
Ba tman stared. The kitten mewed.
"You are stupid," he muttered, rubbing his temples.