#Nightwing Fluff

[luv-lock]

ㅤֹㅤ⊹ㅤ #ㅤGOLDEN BOYㅤ.ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

☆⁠ PAIRING : Robin Dick Grayson x Fem Reader

☆⁠ HEADCANON : When He Have A Puppy Crush Obsession.

☆⁠ NOTES : Teenagers in love. English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!

It starts off innocently enough—just a little crush. You sit near him in class, maybe one row over, and you’re one of the only people who genuinely sees him, not as Bruce Wayne’s ward, not as the golden boy acrobat, but just Dick. The first time you smile at him? Oh, he’s done for. It’s over. That bright, genuine expression you give him after he cracks a dumb joke sends his heart into overdrive. He’s replaying it in his head for weeks. He starts noticing everything about you. The way you twirl your pen when you’re thinking, the soft hum you let out when you're focused, how your eyes light up when you talk about something you love. He starts making excuses to talk to you. “Hey, do you have the notes from last class?” even though he has a perfect memory. “Do you get the homework? I think I missed something.” He just wants to hear your voice, to make you focus on him.

At first, it’s all sweet, dorky teenage boy vibes. But then it starts getting a little intense. He watches you when you’re not looking—not in a creepy way (okay, maybe a little), but in a memorizing everything about you way. He just wants to understand you. What makes you laugh? What makes you frown? Who do you talk to the most? If you mention liking a certain song, you bet he’s listening to it on repeat that night. If you mention a favorite book, he’s reading it in one night just so he can bring it up casually. He adores hearing you say his name. He swears it sounds different coming from your lips. Whenever you do, he fights the urge to grin like an idiot. He gets jealous so easily, but he doesn’t show it in an obvious way. It’s more of a subtle coldness toward any guy you talk to for too long. If someone flirts with you, he’s immediately analyzing everything about them, thinking, What does she see in him?

He’s Robin before anything else, and that means he’s naturally protective. Gotham’s dangerous, and even if you don’t know his secret, he makes it his job to keep you safe. If you're walking home late? He just so happens to be taking the same route. Coincidence? He’d never admit it. He pays attention to how people treat you. If anyone ever makes you uncomfortable, he remembers. Not that he’d ever do anything drastic (yet), but they might find themselves getting mysteriously unlucky.

He doesn’t mean to know so much about you—it just happens. It’s not weird that he remembers your schedule, right? Or that he noticed when you switched shampoos? Or that he can tell when something’s bothering you before you even say anything? He doesn’t mean to follow you home sometimes. He just… wants to make sure you’re okay. Gotham’s dangerous, and you don’t have training like he does. And he definitely doesn’t mean to get distracted on patrol whenever he sees someone who looks like you. But for a split second, he forgets Gotham’s crime rate and thinks, Is she out this late? He’s self-aware enough to know this isn’t just a normal crush. But it’s harmless, right? He’s just watching out for you. If you ever casually compliment him—“You’re really smart, Dick” or “I like being around you”—he malfunctions. Completely. And if you ever initiate contact? Oh, he’s done. Completely, utterly, hopelessly yours.

Dick is a puppy when it comes to you. The second you walk into the classroom, he perks up. If he’s sitting, he straightens his posture. If he’s standing, he suddenly finds something super interesting about the wall just to avoid looking too eager. He lives for those little moments of eye contact. If you catch him staring, he plays it off like he was lost in thought—but inside? His brain is melting. He starts doodling your name in the margins of his notebooks without even realizing it. One day, he catches himself writing “Mr. and Mrs. Grayson” in the corner of his notes and nearly dies on the spot. If you ever say something nice about his eyes? Oh, you’ve ruined him. He will think about that compliment for weeks. Every time he looks in the mirror, he wonders, Does she like them this way? Does she think they’re pretty?

Whenever the teacher asks a question, he needs to be the one who answers it. Not because he’s a know-it-all, but because he wants you to see how smart he is. If you're struggling with something—anything—he’s immediately offering to help. Bad at math? Boom, he's suddenly your personal tutor (even though he secretly hates math). Need a partner for a project? He's already pulling his desk closer before you can even ask. He randomly picks up new skills just because you mentioned liking them. If you say you love guitar players? Guess who suddenly owns a guitar and is watching hours of tutorials? Gym class becomes his personal Olympics. If you're watching, he's running faster, jumping higher, and doing flips that are completely unnecessary just to get your attention.

If you so much as sigh in class, he notices. “You okay?” His voice is so soft, full of genuine concern, and he will not rest until you tell him what’s wrong. He remembers everything you say. Mentioned craving a certain snack? He’s “randomly” bringing it to school the next day. Said you liked a certain brand of lip balm? He notices every time you put it on. If you’re ever sad, he’s ready to drop everything. The moment you look upset, he leans in, voice low and sweet, “Hey… talk to me.” He’ll listen so intently, nodding at all the right moments, just aching to fix whatever’s wrong. He’s a natural gentleman around you. Holding doors open, pulling out chairs, letting you borrow his jacket when it's cold (even if he’s freezing). It’s second nature to him—he just wants to take care of you.

If you miss a day of school? He’s restless. Checking his phone way too much, tapping his pencil, wondering where you are, if you’re okay, if you miss him too. The day you come back? He’s practically glowing. “Hey! You’re back!” His voice is a little too excited, but he can’t help it. He loves when you talk to him first. The moment you say, “Hey, Dick!” in the hallway, he lights up like a Christmas tree. If you touch his arm while laughing? Oh. He’s not getting over that for at least a month. If you’re ever even slightly affectionate with him—resting your head on his shoulder, holding onto his wrist absentmindedly—he’s gone. He replays that moment forever, sighing like a lovesick fool in his room at night.

He has so many little fantasies about you. Not weird ones—just soft, innocent daydreams. Holding hands. Walking you home. Kissing you under the stars like in the movies. He imagines what it would be like if you were his. If he could just tell you how much you mean to him, if he could wrap his arms around you whenever he wanted, if he could finally call you his. But for now, he’s content just being close to you, memorizing every little thing about you, waiting for the moment when you’ll finally see him the way he sees you. Because to him? You’re already his—you just don’t know it yet.

Dick has been thinking about this for weeks. No—months. He’s built up so many little fantasies about it in his head. He imagines it happening naturally, like in the movies—maybe you’ll both laugh at something at the same time, your eyes will meet, and you’ll just know. But no. That’s not realistic. He needs a plan. So, naturally, he overthinks everything. Should he ask casually? Should he write a note? Should he just confess dramatically in the rain? (That one’s his favorite idea, but Gotham’s weather isn’t cooperating.)

He starts dropping little comments like, “Hey, you ever been to that cute café downtown?” or “Do you like Italian food?” If you mention liking a certain place, guess who suddenly loves that place too? “Oh, you like that diner? No way! I love that diner. We should totally go sometime…” He tests the waters constantly. “Would you ever go out with someone from our class?” (Please say yes, please say yes, please say yes—)

He practices in the mirror. A lot. He even tries different tones—cool and casual (“Hey, wanna grab a bite with me?”), nervous but sweet (“I was, um, wondering if you’d maybe wanna go out?”), and even overly confident (“Obviously, you should go on a date with me.”). But the moment he actually sees you? Oh. His brain malfunctions. “Hey—uh—so—okay—hypothetically, if a guy—like me—were to, um, ask you to hang out—but like, not as friends, more like a date—what would you, uh… think?” The second he says it, he wants to die. That was NOT what he practiced. That was awful. But you laugh. Not at him—just at how adorably flustered he is. And oh, if your laugh wasn’t already his favorite sound, it definitely is now.

If you say yes? Oh. He short-circuits. He’s trying to stay cool, but inside? Explosions. Fireworks. The Bat-Signal shining just for him. “Really? I mean—yeah! Cool! Totally cool. Um, how’s Friday? Or Saturday? Or any day? I’m free. Like, always. For you.”

Once you say yes, he goes into full-on mission mode. He has to make this perfect. This isn’t just a date—it’s your first date together, meaning it has to be something you’ll remember forever. He spends an embarrassing amount of time deciding what to wear. He changes outfits at least five times before realizing, “Oh God, I’m worse than Bruce.” He arrives early. He tells himself not to, but he literally cannot be late. In fact, he’s been there so long that by the time you show up, he’s already memorized the entire menu.

When He Sees You… Oh. He’s gone. The moment he lays eyes on you, it’s like the world just stops. “Wow.” He says it without thinking, and then immediately tries to cover it up with a cough. “I mean—not that you don’t always look great! Because you do. All the time. But tonight? Wow.” (He is so embarrassing. And he does not care.)

He’s lowkey flexing. Not in an arrogant way, but in a please find me impressive way. He talks about his training (“I mean, gymnastics is kinda my thing…”), but downplays it like it’s not incredibly cool.

When you least expect it, he gets weirdly soft. He looks at you when you’re not paying attention, like he’s memorizing you. Like he can’t believe you’re real.

When he walks you home, he wants to hold your hand. He wants to kiss you, but he’s too nervous (what if it’s too soon? What if she doesn’t want that?) “I had fun tonight,” he says, scratching the back of his neck. He really wants to ask if he can kiss you. But instead, he blurts out— “So, um. Can I… take you out again?” (His voice is so hopeful—he looks like a puppy waiting for a treat.) Yes? Oh! Congratulations, you have just made his entire year. He’s smiling so hard all the way home, practically skipping. The second he gets home, he flops onto his bed, staring at the ceiling, sighing like a total fool. She said yes. She had fun. She’s gonna be mine. I just know it.

Oh. You have no idea what you’ve just signed up for. Dick is the most devoted boyfriend on the planet. He’s not just in love—he’s obsessed (in the cutest, puppy-eyed way possible). He still can’t believe you’re actually his. Every time he sees you at school, his heart flutters. He gets this dumb, lovesick smile on his face and can’t even hide it. If you so much as look at him in the hallway? Oh, he’s grinning like an idiot. If you say his name? His entire day is made. He constantly reminds himself, She’s my girlfriend now. I get to love her. I get to take care of her. And that? Oh, he will take that job very seriously.

He always waits for you after class. No matter where you sit, what you’re doing—he’s outside the door, waiting with a big grin. “Hey, babe.” (He’s still getting used to calling you that, but he loves it.) He carries your books without you even asking. If you have a heavy bag? He’s grabbing it before you can protest. “What kind of boyfriend would I be if I let you carry all this, huh?” He starts noticing everything about you. Your little habits, the way you fidget when you’re nervous, the way you tilt your head when you’re thinking. He loves memorizing you.

Oh, he is so clingy, but he tries so hard to play it cool. He wants to be around you all the time. He has zero chill when it comes to other guys. The moment he notices some random dude even looking at you? His entire mood shifts. He doesn’t make a scene, but he gets super touchy. Arm around your shoulder. Hand on your waist. Pulling you closer. Just little things to remind everyone— She’s mine. If a guy gets too bold? Oh. Dick doesn’t get jealous—he gets possessive. He won’t start a fight (unless he has to), but his presence alone is enough to make people back off. “Everything okay, babe?” He asks, voice casual—but his grip on your waist tightens just a little.

He is so cheesy. He will literally text you “Good morning, beautiful ❤️” every single day. If you ever fall asleep on him? Oh. That’s it. That’s his favorite thing in the entire world. He’ll sit there, completely still for hours, just so he doesn’t wake you. He keeps every little thing you give him. If you write him a note? He treasures it. If you give him a silly doodle? He tucks it in his wallet. He gets so excited every time you touch him first. If you hold his hand, kiss his cheek, lean against him? He plays it cool on the outside, but inside? Explosions. “I’m gonna marry her one day,” he definitely tells himself after, staring at the ceiling like a fool.

In his mind? This is it. You and him? You’re meant to be. There is no future where you’re not together. He doesn’t just think about your future together—he fantasizes about it. What your life will be like. How he’ll propose one day. How you’ll be his forever. She loves me. She has to. She’s mine. If you ever mention breaking up? Oh. No. That isn’t an option. He can’t lose you. But he’s not crazy. No, no. He’s rational. If you ever tried to leave him, it would only be because you were confused. You just need to see how perfect you are together. And if that means proving his love over and over again? He’ll gladly do it. Because you are his.

You have officially unlocked the most devoted, lovesick, slightly delusional boyfriend ever. He worships the ground you walk on. He adores you. There is nothing in this world he wouldn’t do for you. In his mind? This isn’t just young love. This is forever.

— MASTERLIST ☆

— © luv-lock. Don't copy, use or translate any of my works here or any other websites ☆

[nocturnewidow]

write me dick grayson plspls ily pls begging

After hours

Dick Grayson x fem!reader⭑.ᐟ

Late night fluff with a sprinkle of tension ,, suggestive content, silk & soft moments

The front door creaked open quietly, the sound barely a whisper against the hum of the night. Gotham was finally asleep, and so was the love of Dick’s life.

He stepped inside like a shadow, careful not to disturb anything, muscles aching and knuckles bruised from the night’s chaos. The city never rested, but tonight,, he needed to. Because you were here. Waiting. Always waiting.

The dim bedside lamp glowed soft gold against your skin, and he stopped dead in his tracks.

You were sprawled on the bed, chest rising and falling in gentle rhythm, your favorite blanket tangled around your waist. That sheer, silky slip he loved the one with the delicate lace and the way it clung just enough shimmered under the light. His breath caught.

His jaw flexed. God. How was he lucky enough to come home to this? To you?

To the way your body curved into his pillow like it belonged there. To the way your collarbone peeked through the low neckline of your nightgown. To the way your lips parted slightly as you sighed in your sleep, like you were dreaming of him.

He swallowed, chest tightening with something softer than desire but just as deep.

He leaned down, brushing the hair from your face with his gloved hand before stripping the gloves off and tossing them to the floor. His lips grazed your temple first. Then your cheek. Then the corner of your mouth.

“You’re too good to me, angel,” he whispered, voice hoarse with exhaustion. “I don’t deserve you.”

He laid down beside you, sighing into the sheets, letting the scent of your shampoo wash the night off him. His arm found your waist automatically, pulling you back into his chest. He pressed a kiss to the nape of your neck.

“You’re my peace,” he murmured, sleep already tugging at the edges of his voice. “My favorite view.”

You stirred a little, nestling closer with a soft hum, but didn’t wake. Not yet.

────୨ৎ────

But you did stir again later. Early morning maybe, that strange hour where the sky is still dark and the world hasn’t decided if it’s today or tomorrow.

You blinked sleepily, instantly aware of the warm, heavy arm around your middle. Dick. He was here.

You smiled softly and turned in his arms, facing him, your hand brushing the black strands from his forehead.

Then you kissed him.

Slow. Gentle. A wake up kiss.

He hummed low in his throat, half-asleep still, and smirked into your lips. “Mmm… best alarm clock I’ve ever had.”

“You’re home late,” you whispered, your fingers ghosting down his bare chest beneath the sheets.

“Mmhm,” he muttered, pressing your bodies closer. “But this? Coming home to you like this? Worth it.”

His eyes traveled down, taking in the cling of your nightgown again now that it was practically molded to your body under the blanket.

“You wear this just for me, sweetheart?”

You grinned. “Maybe.”

He pulled you in with a lazy, possessive little growl and kissed your neck, teeth grazing your skin. “Gonna make me wanna stay home tomorrow.”

“You say that every time.”

“And every time I mean it,” he murmured against your collarbone. “But I always end up back in your bed, don’t I?”

Your legs tangled under the sheets, hands wandering as warmth began to build between you, kisses growing slower but heavier.

“Tell me if you’re too tired,” you whispered, eyes half-lidded.

He smirked. “I’m never too tired for you.”

[fromdove]

“you’re bleeding on my bath mat.”

“technically,” dick says, biting back a wince, “we bought that bath mat.”

you glare at him. he’s sitting shirtless on the closed toilet lid like it’s a throne, hair damp with sweat and blood, black suit unzipped and pooling around his waist. his lip is split, knuckles scraped, and he’s got the nerve to be smiling.

“that doesn’t make it better.”

“no, but it makes it ours.”

you mutter something unflattering under your breath as you kneel beside him with the first-aid kit. “what happened?”

“some guy had a knife.”

“and you didn’t?”

“i had... optimism.”

“idiot,” you sigh, tilting his face toward the light. the cut on his cheekbone is shallow but angry. he winces anyway. you try not to think about how pretty he still looks like this, bloodied and cocky, grinning like he won a prizefight instead of nearly getting gutted in an alley.

“you worry too much,” he murmurs.

“you bleed too much.”

“fair point.”

he stays still as you clean the wound, but his eyes never leave your face. there’s a softness there that doesn’t match the bruises. like he’s memorizing your every frown. every sigh.

“you gonna kiss it better?” he asks, voice low and teasing.

“i’m gonna disinfect it,” you reply, deadpan. “if you’re lucky.”

he groans when the antiseptic hits, the sound dramatic enough to make you pause.

“you’re the worst nurse,” he complains, slouching dramatically. “i came here for comfort.”

“you came here for sympathy and post-fight cuddles.”

“and pancakes.”

“you’re not getting pancakes.”

“...you’re so mean to me.”

you set the bottle down and look at him. his lashes are dark and damp, his lip swollen, cheekbone starting to swell. and still—he looks at you like you’re gravity.

“you’re lucky i like you,” you say, softening despite yourself.

“you love me.”

you lean in, slow and careful, and kiss the corner of his mouth—right where it doesn’t hurt. he exhales against your lips like he’s been holding his breath since he climbed through your window. your hands find his jaw, cradling him gently. his own fingers twitch like he wants to touch you back, but he doesn’t move.

“you’re bleeding on me,” you whisper when you pull back.

“technically,” dick grins, lips brushing yours again, “we’re even now.”

and then he kisses you properly—bruised mouth and all.

[nghtwngs]

Hi! Can you write

“You are such a fucking coward” but with a happy/hopeful ending.

yes ofc nonnie. im assuming you want a fic with dick grayson and since i only have requests for two characters open rn, i have a 50/50 shot, so here you go!! sorry this took a bit, i was focused on my bob fic, which i just finally published :) also this is definitely more on the hopeful & hurt/comfort side

send requests

You mutter, “You are such a fucking coward.”

The glass fogs up from your breath, blurring your reflection for a split second. Once the mirror clears up, it reveals the purple bruises staining your complexion, causing you to wince at the sight of yourself.

One look at you, and he’s gonna be pissed. Dick won’t be home for another few hours though, burning the midnight oil on his patrol with Tim tonight. There’s only so much makeup can do to hide the splotches on your cheek, the cut right above your eyebrow. The ugly, sensitive patches that cover your sides, still recovering from last time and made worse by the trouble you found earlier. You hope he won’t notice your choice of pajamas tonight—covering every inch of skin from his eyes. He will.

Why exactly haven’t you told Dick you were going out again?

Did you want to save yourself from his protests and pleas? The thoughtful, very valid list of reasons he could produce on the fly? Maybe. But maybe you’re just a coward, and that’s all. Maybe you thought it would be easier on your own after what happened with the Joker.

Maybe, maybe, maybe.

But sweet, loving, ocean-eyed Boy Wonder takes one good look at you, and the next thing you know is that you’re in his arms again. Pressing gentle kisses to your face and mindfully straying from your wounds, he holds you and coos in your ear about how he’ll take care of you.

“You’re not angry?” you speak softly, not even sure if the words are actually coming outside your mouth. “Upset?”

Dick’s nose brushes against your uninjured cheek. “I am, but I love you way more than I could ever be upset with you. I can’t say I know what I’d do if I were you. I don’t. I do know that I’d probably be doing something a lot more stupid than patrolling right after…”

You inhale his scent and marvel at the fact his suit could still smell like fresh laundry after a full night of patrol. What was Alfred’s magic detergent potion? Neither of you want to think about what happened. The words are almost too evil to speak aloud. Neither of you even believe in all that stuff, but you don’t like messing with it either.

“Yeah, probably,” you agree, muffled by his chest.

“Let’s get you to bed, my love.” He pulls you gently towards the bedroom.

“My love?”

He cocks his head slightly. “Would ‘my heart’ be better?”

“I don’t know… whichever one you like best.”

“Alright, my dearest,” he says, sitting you down on the bed, “I’ll be right back.”

You watch him slip off his Nightwing suit, jumping in the shower to wash off the dirt and evil from the city. He leaves the door open, making sure the two of you aren’t ever separated. Like he promised, he’s back before you even blink twice and carefully pulling you into his embrace underneath the thick covers of the bed.

Your voice grows soft. “I won’t break. I won’t.”

“Never,” he whispers, thumb gently tracing around your bruised cheek. “And neither will I.”

[ahqkas]

you’re not sure how you ended up here—in DICK GRAYSON’S bed, with his hands on your waist, and the weight of his body leaning just enough against yours to make your pulse race. it had started with a quiet moment, a teasing comment, and then a look that lingered a little too long. one thing led to another, and now you’re tangled up with him, your heart pounding in sync with the rhythm of his lips moving against yours.

his bed smells like him ( faintly like clean linen, with a hint of whatever cologne he uses, something warm and grounding ). the scent wraps around you, mixing with the heat of his skin and the way his breath hitches when you tug him closer. his hands trail up your sides, calloused fingertips brushing over fabric and skin as if he’s trying to memorize the shape of you.

you gasp against his mouth when his teeth graze your bottom lip, the sound soft and involuntary, and you feel him smile against you. “what?” he murmurs, voice low and husky, the kind of tone that sends shivers down the valley of your spine. his lips barely leave yours as he speaks, like he can’t stand the distance even for a second.

“nothing,” you manage but the way your voice wavers betrays you.

“liar,” he breathes out, his lips tugging into a smirk and pressing against the curve of your jaw as he moves lower, leaving a trail of warm, slow kisses down your neck. his hands slide up up cradle your face for a moment, tilting your head so he can reach a spot just beneath your ear that has you clinging to him.

your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt, tugging lightly as if to pull him closer. he shifts, the mattress dipping under the added weight and his knee brushes yours, caging you in but never making you feel trapped. his touch is firm but careful. he’s holding back, letting you guide how far things go.

when he pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes are dark with something between want and adoration. “you’re gonna kill me there,” he whispers and his thumb brushes against the apple of your cheek in a such tender movement it makes your heart ache.

[gay-dorito-dust]

How’d they react to you calling them bro or dude whilst in a pre-established relationship…(platonic/romantic)

Dick: he’s insulted.

Gutted.

He will try to give you the silent treatment for such a shameful thing but ultimately fails as he ends up being the one pawing at you for attention.

‘Do you still like me? Or did you just run out of cute nicknames to call me?’ He’d say one night as your both cuddling in bed together. ‘If it’s the later then I can help you find something, just please spare me and don’t call me dude or bro anymore.’

He’d rather you call him Richard-wait, no he hates that even more because to him you’re not meant to use his fully name, only cutesy nicknames that’d make a grown man sick to his stomach. Nothing else would suffice other than Dickie bird, handsome, babe, hunk, honeybun or anything that wasn’t his name.

He’s go mad or would act delusional and say that everything was fine when everyone could tell that it wasn’t. People who know him have personally came to you and begged you to stop calling him dude/bro because he kept talking their ears off about how his beloved partner is torturing him, which ends up torturing them even more upon hearing about his relationship issues.

Dick would even consult Hayley on what he did wrong, only for Hayley to look at him with those big, big eyes of hers. This was not her level of expertise unfortunately. (Head empty, no thoughts. She can’t do her abc’s guys it’s a real tragedy.)

Jason: ‘I just had my tongue down your throat just now and you had to go and ruin the mood by calling me bro. What the fuck.’ - Jason at some point.

It’s a whole mood killer for him to be honest.

He’s calling you things like chipmunk or sweetheart but here you were calling him dude and bro. He knows for a fact that he’s well and truly out of the friend zone because the shit you’ve done together isn’t platonic in any sort of way.

Thinks Roy had set you up to call him dude or bro behind his back. (He hasn’t)

Jason is petty and will get his own back by referring you as ‘just a really good friend’, ‘buddy o’ mine’ or even worse than both of those; ‘chum.’ 💀

When you go low, Jason was more then willing to go to the depths of fucking hell to the point it had become a game to see who’d call out just how stupid this all was, and at the both of you for ever thinking that this was an excellent idea in the first place.

You’ll probs get punished…I’m just going to leave it there and let your minds guess what that ‘punishment’ was exactly.

Damian:

As much as Damian hates it when you call him Dami, he hates it when you call him dude or bro even more, if that’s even possible.

Damian hates it when you call him dude or bro. He’s not your dude or bro, he’s your partner and he expects no less then darling, my heart or my beloved.

So you calling him dude or bro is more than enough reason for him to give you the silent treatment.

‘Until you learn that I am your partner, I won’t want to be anywhere near you if you’re going to keep calling me your bro or dude. It is a disservice to who I actually am to you.’ He says with a huff and beckons Titus to follow, only for the Great Dane to be left confused as to why his human parents were at a disagreement over something silly.

Also Titus, Ace, Jerry, Alfred the cat, Goliath and BatCow are children of divorce because I said so.

So it’s bests that you apologise while you still can because Damian can hold a grudge unlike any other. Even if you didn’t, you’d still crack first before Damian and quickly put an end to calling him dude/bro.

He just thinks being called a dude/bro when in a pre-established relationship is an insult.

He can take a joke but not when it’s aimed at his relationship. He’s well and truly devoted to his relationship -if we’re to completely ignore the whole being Robin thing- that it might as well be an insult towards him too at this point.

[lanadelreyscokewhor3]

CRUSH- D.GRAYSON

pairing: richboy! dick grayson x girly! innocent!fem! reader

part one here! part three here!

word count: 2.7k

summary: its the morning after your prince charming had swooped you off your feet, and somehow- dicks secret superpower is diminishing hangovers, by taking care of you.

warnings: sexual thoughts/ implications, kissing/ slight make-out session, pet names, mentions of masturbation, size kink implied, swearing, dick asks reader out on her first date and kinda acts like a sugar daddy lol, he's kinda a soft dom in a way...

Your head felt like a truck had run over it.

As if you had been tossed on the road, and a Ford F150 had slowly taken its time driving its tires over your head.

You woke up, still in your clothes from the night before, makeup smudged and jewellery tangled. Groaning, you slowly pulled each limb out of bed, feeling like a jello.

The clock hands ticked just past ten thirty, but it felt like you had got an hour of sleep, tops.

You were in definite need of a nap today, you thought to yourself as you slowly rocked up to your feet, tugging off your clothes from the previous night.

The fact you had worn outdoor club clothes in your bed… yeah, you’d need to wash your sheets today too.

You let the morning light that peaked through your thin curtains illuminate the path to your dresser, where you tugged on a new pair of panties and an oversized band tee. Kicking past skirts and thongs, you placed your head in your hands before you managed the courage to go out and brave the bathroom.

And the kitchen. But the thought of greasy bacon and eggs made you excited, just a little.

You creaked open your door, starting to walk to the bathroom before stopping in your tracks.

Oh fuck.

Dick Grayson lay sprawled on the couch, blanket covering practically nothing as he snoozed. His legs were spread, one out on the floor, the other over the arm of the couch.

And his abs… Oh god.

Here was this man- completely sprawled out in your living room- that you had completely forgotten about him staying- mind you. You didn't know why he stayed- the couch clearly was not suited for him- but you were glad he did.

You just needed to get things ready before he woke. And put pants on.

“Fuck. Fuck, fuck…” you mumbled, feet pattering on the hardwood as you scurried to the bathroom.

What you didn't know of course, was the man was already awake- and had been for a while. He had learned to “pretend sleep”, so his roommates would leave him alone when they came home and he was in the living room.

You didn't even let the water warm up before you were scrubbing at your face frantically, like a mad woman before trying to fix your bedhead.

Soon he’d be awake, and you wanted to make him breakfast in bed (on the couch? You didn't know what the hell to call it).

It was the least you could do for him, for taking care of you. He was so sweet. It made your heart flutter, remembering how kind he was to you last night. And here he was on your uncomfortable ass sofa!

A true gentleman indeed.

You frantically rushed to the kitchen, seeing his body still splayed out as you darted to the kitchen, trying your best to be quiet.

“Fuck fuck okay make coffee, make him coffee and find eggs…” you whispered to yourself, making him smirk to himself. He cracked an eye open, shifting so he rested his head over the sofa, watching you silently.

You were in your own little world, trying to reach for a mug on the highest shelf.

“Need any help with that bun?”

You jumped, whipping around to face where he rested his arms and head over the couch back- a smirk on his face.

“You scared me! How long have you been awake for? I’m so sorry if I was loud-”

“A while. You werent loud sweetheart. Dont need to get yourself all worried about me, okay?”

He stood with a stretch, ruminging around on the ground before he found his target- tugging on his pants from last night. You quickly averted your gaze- covering your eyes with a hand as he tugged them on, pulling your fingers apart just a peak to try and get a glance.

You felt guilty but- oh well. You already saw him when he was “sleeping”. 

Heat spread throughout your body as he made his way over to you, trapping you in against the countertop- facing his chest as he reached up with ease to grab the mug you were after. You were frozen in place for what felt like forever, as if you were a statue, just marveling at the sight of him.

“T-thanks.” you managed to mutter out as he handed you the mug, cocky grin plastered across his face- knowing exactly what he was doing to you.

Oh but wait! Things get better! Your inner monologue shouted at you as his hand reached up to brush a stray eyelash of your cheek, rough thumb so gentle across your skin.

“You feeling okay?” he asked gently, knowing last night was… something.

“I’m okay. I have this throbbing in my head- like a drum. S’annoying.”

He snorted, grabbing another mug for himself.

“Yeah that’ll do it. Coffee will fix you up.”

“Do you not have a headache?” you asked, suddenly broken from your trance as he neared the coffee machine, reminding you of your duties before he decided to flip flop your heart around.

“Me? You’re cute.”

You frowned, forehead lines crinkling in a way that made him swoon. You were so adorable when you frowned. Like a little bunny, crinkling its nose.

“Thats not fair.”

“Sweetheart, one of us here is a lightweight, and one of us here is not. Thats the way it goes. Plus, I’m a lot bigger then you.”

You raised your eyebrow, flicking on the machine, the hot liquid beginning to trickle out into his mug.

“Oh yeah?”

“Mm. And stronger too.”

You swallowed, the distance between the two of you becoming smaller, and smaller. You’re apartment wasnt exactly a penthouse suite, but it wasnt super small either. Yet, your kitchen felt like it was crammed with him in it, the room turning hot, your cheeks filled with heat.

“I-I think your coffee is done Dickie.” you murmered, watching as he reached right past you, grabbing the cup and taking a sip.

He drank it black. Of course.

Whistling a little tune as he opened your fridge, craining down to dig around in your fridge, as if he had lived here for years. “Do you want some fruit?” he asked, pulling out a container of berries, and a carton of eggs.

“Please. God I need a strawberry in my system, or I’m gonna crash out.”

“What- you haven't already?”

You lunged at his remark, wacking his bicep lightly, making him laugh. “Make me eggs or I’ll crash out even more.” you smiled, snagging the milk out of the fridge door to pour in your own coffee, adding some sugar.

Popular opposites, it seemed.

He raised his hand to his forehead, giving you a stern salute. “You got it sweetheart.”

----------------------------------

It was the best hangover morning you’d ever had.

You didn't even know those existed, but with Dick Grayson- they did.

He made breakfast in your kitchen, like it was his house. Serving up perfect eggs and toast, with your fruit- it was as if it was gourmet.

Planting a soft kiss on the top of your head, before serving it to you was the cherry on top.

The two of you talked as the sun steadily filtered through the clouds, laughter and utensils clattering. He was just- you couldn't even put your finger on it. It was like he was your boyfriend- honestly.

You just met him the other night, and here he was, making you breakfast and laughing at your stupid jokes after staying the night on the couch- AFTER taking care of you.

There was no sex. No trade offs, no nothing.

It made your head spin, at the complete 180 he seemed to be from most college guys. He was older, yes, but not by much. A few years at most. But he carried himself as if he was matured, older and wise.

Like he could get anything he wanted, if he talked slickly enough- which he always did.

You were captivated under his spell, watching his blue eyes sparkle as he talked, and the ink black strands that would fall in front of them.

He was smart, he was funny and he was oh so sweet.

You wanted him to stay forever, just as company- in all honesty. He was amazing company. The silence was never awkward, when there was some that hung in the air. He’d just admire you from where you sat at the breakfast nook.

“You’re so pretty. You know that? The prettiest girl.”

It made your skin heat, always looking down at your hands fiddling in your lap, when his compliments became overwhelming (they all did).

But when the coffee grew cold, reality had set in, and he had to leave. As much as it pained you to let him go from your safe haven, you knew he had his own life to attend to- and you had yours. But that didn't stop you from trying to convince him, nonetheless.

”I think you should stay.” you teased as you opened the front door, leaving it swung open- as if to coax him back inside.

He groaned. “Bunny, you know I’d love to. But-”

His phone started to buzz, and he rolled his eyes, fishing it out of his pocket. Tim’s name flashed across the screen, a man you presumed was his friend.

“Speak of the devil. I gotta get back to help my roommates with something I promised them sadly, but I promise I’ll be back. Okay?”

You nodded, stepping out from where you were shielded by the door, body coming into full view. His eyes darkened, as he saw your thighs that poked out at him from your t-shirt in the dimmed hallway lighting.

“I’ll text you as soon as I can. Would you like to get dinner sometime this week?” he asked, stepping closer to you, so your breaths were practically intermingling.

You crained your head up to look at him with wide, doe eyes- and he nearly melted into a puddle. “I’d love that Dickie.”

“Yeah I know you would. Now cmere, I wanna kiss you. That okay?”

You licked your lips as he slowly backed you up against the doorframe, caging you in as his hand slipped up to grasp your jaw, holding it gentle- yet firm.

“I’d love that.”

He chuckled. “Yeah? This okay sweetheart?” he breathed, leaning down so his lips were almost touching yours.

Before you could answer, his lips were on yours, the sweet taste of him sending shocks up your spine- nerves coursing on fire at the sensation, as his tongue coaxed your lips to part, begging for entrance.

You moaned, muffled by his lips as he swallowed you whole, consuming you as he gripped your waist, tugging your hips closer to him, so your back was arched against the old wooden frame.

You felt dizzy, when the two of you finally parted, your lips feeling flushed and swollen, a dazed look in your eye as you just stared at him.

Was that the best kiss of your life? Yes.

Were you going to tell him that? Hell no.

You knew his ego did not to be inflated anymore.

He smiled mischievously, like a feline as he planted a kiss on your forehead, and then another, before he turned down the hall. Like he didn't just sweep you off your feet, leaving you dazed like some swooning princess who had just found her prince charming.

“I’ll call you sweetheart.” he called, waving without a second glance, before he disappeared down the stairs, and out the door- leaving no trace of him but your flushed skin and the door swinging on its hinges. 

--------------------------------

Dick was hounded the second his foot stepped in the door.

“So? When do we meet her?” Tim asked from the living room, perched beside the IKEA boxes of parts for the new couch he was supposed to help put up (even though they could easily do it without his help).

He slammed it behind him, hard. “Don't even start.”

Jason let out a little whistle, not even sparing Dick a glance, though he knew the look in his eye would set him off anyways. “He really likes this one Drake. Means he’s gonna get all possessive and not share her with any of us.”

He tossed Dick a wink, making Dick clench his fingers into fists. God they knew how to get under his skin.

“He’s scared she’ll decide she likes us better, don't worry Dickie, I get it.” Tim called, watching as Dick rolled his eyes, making his way over to the mess on the hardwood floor.

“When do we need this done by?” he ignored Tim, starting to pry open one of the boxes.

“Uhh I don't know, when do you want a couch for?”

“I don't know why we need a new couch. Our old one was fuckin fine.” Jason grumbled, flipping a screwdriver between his fingers, even though he was strong enough to probably just press the damn nails in.

“Because it was disgusting and I’m tired of breaking my ass on a spring whenever I watch a game.” Tim mumbled.

Dick was in his own world, tuning out anything that wasn't the thought of you. He already missed your presence. Your soft touch, your sweet smell, the little noises you made when he kissed you, pressing you firmly against the door.

So close he could feel your hardened nipples brush against his chest, skin hot to the touch.

He needed to see you, and soon. Where the hell did he want to take you for dinner?

Up on the East end?

No, not fancy enough.

He needed something spectacular for you. Ideally, he’d want you ending the bed in his bed, in his car- he didn't care where. He just wanted you again, your lips and your pretty little sounds that he would most definitely be imagining tonight when his hand was wrapped around his cock.

He’d take his time with you, unravelling you like a gift. Whether that was on leather seats or memory foam mattresses, he didn't care.

He’d needed this extra special for you.

He’d call in some favours.

---------------------------------- It was nearing the late evening when your phone buzzed, the only name you wanted to see popping up on it.

You were all ready for bed, facemask completed, everything shower done, soft pjs on, nails painted and candle lit. Seeing his name flash on the screen made your heart flutter, and you quickly opened his message, not even bothering to pause your show before responding.

Dick: Hey pretty. Does Tuesday work for dinner?

You: Hi :) Tuesday is perfect!

Even if you had plans that night- you’d push them aside.

Dick: Perfect. Be ready for 8pm, sharp ;)

You: Yes sir:)

You watched his message bubble up, before disappearing again. Then it popped up again, a notification alerting you that he had sent you money.

Your jaw dropped.

This man had just sent you $800 dollars.

Dick: You’re gonna accept this okay? Or I’m going to be very upset and I’ll find a way into your apartment and hand you the money myself. Get yourself something nice for Tuesday.

You were gobsmacked.

How the fuck were you supposed to accept this?

You: Dickie… I don't think I can accept this. And I don't even know what to wear.

Dick: You’ll accept it, and you’ll find something. Anything you pick will be beautiful, I promise bunny.

Your hands were shaking as you held your phone between twitching fingers, in a state of shock. You had known this man for two days, and he was splurging $800 on you? You didn't even know how to respond.

Although to him, you supposed- it probably was next to nothing.

Here he was, making you play dress up to some date planned- that you were unaware of. You had no theme to go off of, no idea of what was happening.

You bit your lip, fighting a little more, even begging for a clue or hint of what to wear- but he gave you nothing. Claiming he wanted you to be authentic, to wear whatever you wanted.

It was too much creative freedom.

Your head swarmed with thoughts of all the possibilities, $800 was a lot of money, and you didn't even know where to start. You let yourself have a mini freakout, and be overwhelmed, before you tucked yourself under the covers, pulling out your laptop to start browsing Pinterest.

You had no time to mess around.

You had a crush to impress.

--------------------------------------------------------

eek so dickie is gonna go all romantic and take reader on her first date? hmmm ;)

@gwyneveire <3 if anyone else wants to be tagged i can try and remember to add you in the future!

[robinsleeping]

Jason Todd is simply “the mood”

[petalbcrnes]

⋆ ִֶָ ๋𓂃🌻 ⋆ fwb!𝓓𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝓖𝐑𝐀𝐘𝐒𝐎𝐍 ’n catching feelings .ᐟ

𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐋𝐘 — you and dick have a fwb relationship, he catches feelings for you and can’t help but feel helpless to the feelings of jealousy festering in his heart. he wants to be the only one you look at.

𝐂𝐖 — this contains nsfw content (under the cut), descriptions of making out, séx / smút.

‎ ‎ ➢ ﹔DIRECTORY ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

— 𝓢����𝐖 ⊹ ࣪ ˖

It started out simple. In no way was it supposed to turn into what it is now.

You and Dick got along well. Your friendship bloomed quickly. Similar interests, personalities, and friend groups brought you two together.

It could have been predicted you two would hit it off.

He was captivated by you at first. It was curiosity at first glance. He wanted to know more about you. He wondered if you’d let him in. Let him push back the layers you use to cover your heart tucked away between your ribs.

Fortunately (or unfortunately, that’s up for interpretation) you did let him in.

The weekends you two spent as friends visiting parks, arcades, shops, and cafes turned somehow different.

You two still went to the same places, but now it was only the two of you alone, no one else to disturb the time you spent with him.

It became second nature to spend that time with him. It didn’t take much time for Dick to seek you out every second of the day.

He wanted to be close to you. He made that very clear. Physically, you two were basically attached at the hip.

He should know better than to let something akin to attraction for one of his best friends bloom in his heart, but it is so natural when it comes to you.

Jealousy comes very easy to this man. He wants to spend every moment with you, and god forbid someone else takes that time away from the two of you.

He’s comically jealous. Dramatic as he claims you broke his heart. You two pretend it’s a joke. Whatever it takes to admit it’s all real.

It gets more and more intimate. There are drunken calls, touches that are too soft and tender, sweet words said between the two of you, and so much more.

Dick wants more. He hopes you do as well and is willing to take the chance to prove himself worthy of waking up next to you every morning, not as someone you only spend the night with, but as someone you call a partner.

— 𝓝𝐒𝐅𝐖 ⊹ ࣪ ˖

The first night you two cross the blurred lines of friendship and whatever the two of you have goes something like this.

The feeling of wanting more quickly bloomed in your chests. It grew and grew until one night the air felt different when he looked at you.

Dick’s eyes darted from your eyes to your lips. He looked different from what you were used to.

And suddenly every warning your friends gave you about him started ringing out in your head—he’s a playboy, you couldn’t trust him.

And you surely shouldn’t let him stare at you like that, let his lean fingers trace your jaw, let them settle on your plump lips.

You shouldn’t feel a burning ache inside you when he tugs your bottom lip ever so slightly.

You shouldn’t have let him kiss you. But you’ve always been weak for him. You should have known this would have happened.

Every precaution and warning about this gets thrown out the window as he travels his hand below, cupping your neck and waist at the same time, bringing you into his lap.

You can feel him smile against your lips, as if he has something he’s been wanting and craving for so long right in his lap.

He’s characteristically loud. He doesn’t shut up—“I’ve wanted to do this for so long.”

You can feel yourself getting dizzy and your mind goes hazy with every admission from his already glossy lips from the kisses you two shared—“I knew”—he mumbles between kisses—“you’d taste like heaven.”

Most nights you two spend like this.

Though you try to keep your distance, try to see other people, invite others to your bed.

You don’t think he notices, but he does. Every night you don’t answer his texts, it stings his heart.

The sex becomes even more emotional after the feelings grow into something more.

His hands grip your hips even more desperately, and his fingers dig into your skin as if he’s terrified to let go.

Every time he’s inside you, he begs to see your face. He needs to look into your eyes while the two of you reach the edge.

Surprisingly, there’s a new carefree and fun emotion added when the two of you spend the night together.

Tangled bodies under the sheets and you two will laugh, make jokes, and it all starts to feel domestic.

After that, he clings onto you. Aftercare becomes even more soft. The warm cloth he uses to clean you up is used with even more tenderness.

He silently begs for you to stay the night with him. Dimly sparkling eyes look up at you with a pleading look.

He’s basically a puppy at your door, scratching and trying to convince you to let him in.

Dick is used to being the one people chase.

Suddenly everything is flipped around. He’s the one begging for your touch, time, and presence.

He wouldn’t have it any other way. He just hopes you say yes to him the next time you two meet and he takes you out on a real date.

♥︎ . .. ♥︎ .. ♥︎

© petalbcrnes | all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are not allowed to be reposted, translated, or modified. viewer discretion is advised.

[0107nw]

⇒ soulmate!dick grayson x cat girl!reader

summary: short drabble (soon to be written fic) in which your shared soul mark is the inability to lie to one another. lots of teasing ensues!

genre: soulmate!au, “rivals” to lovers

warnings: none for the drabble!

a/n: did i abandon my haikyuu blog for dc? yeah…. yeah 😞😞😞

currently unedited || masterlist

you’d been by catwoman’s side for years now, starting from when you were just ten years old. like the dynamic duo of gotham, selina had taken you under her supervision, minus your family dying in a tragic circus accident of course.

your first meeting with batman’s boy wonder was quite eventful, a game of cat and mouse - or a cat toying with a bird. you took great pleasure in out pacing robin as he tried to catch you.

As kids you two were honest with each other, through the back and forth’s or the rare occasions when your mentors would work together - thus forcing you two to work together.

uttering a lie to one another would never have even crossed your minds, what better way to voice your disdain than by voicing it to the person causing such strong negative emotions?

unfortunately for the two of you, that honesty did not could not stop in your adulthood.

now no longer “robin” or “catgirl”, the two of you have adopted your own personas, no matter how close or distant it was from your titles as sidekicks.

kitty was the name you settled for, seeing as selina refused to step down as catwoman, and your genius younger self decided she was too grown to be catgirl during her teenage years, you were now stuck with something more or less the same.

and dick grayson - nightwing, was loving it.

it was supposed to be a quick swipe, get into the gallery, grab a few of the paintings stored away in the back and get out. of course, the ever so righteous nightwing couldn’t allow that to happen.

“here kitty-kitty, why don’t you drop the paintings and indulge in a little treat?” he’d tease, a smirk present on his face, a grimace present on yours.

“i’d love to, but this kitty’s a little busy.”

you furrowed your brows as you registered your own response.

… of course he’d use your silly soulmate mark against you.

“cute, are you gonna keep being honest with me, or are you just feeling nice?”

you push past him, hands tightly grasping the duffle bag filled with small pieces, you didn’t get why he would be so eager to bust you for something so trivial - you’d been transparent about what would happen to the paintings anyways.

your time as a petty criminal was long over, ever since selina had taken you in, and you’d formed a deep appreciation for the arts over the years. the prints you stole would always be donated to spaces you knew would love and appreciate the art given to them. unless of course, you were covering for selina.

kind of like the art worlds own robin hood - though nightwing would disagree with that.

“come on, pretty. y’know i’m just teasing -”

“don’t you have actual criminals to stop, or am i just lucky.” your sarcasm was enough to gain a small chuckle from him, he began following you as you made your way back out of the building.

dick sped up his pace, manoeuvring his body so that he’d be in front of you now. hands moving to grasp your shoulders and stop your own movement, you rolled your eyes puffing up your cheeks in annoyance as he fumbled your plans. again.

with a coo, dick grabbed your chin, pulling you closer to leave a peck on them as you continued to pout. “awh, is my cute little soulmate sad she can’t steal a few paintings?”

“yes. and she’s also annoyed that her annoying boyfriend keeps using their soulmate bond against her. stop asking me questions! i need to get these to selina.”

“i’m sure bruce can keep her busy a little longer, gimme those paintings, i’ll leave them in the back, and you and i can spend the rest of the night cuddled up at my place.”

you rolled your eyes at him, nudging his hands off of your shoulders and continuing to the rooftop. behind you, you heard his own signal of annoyance. you smirked at his huff.

he once again moved himself to block your path, you dropped your smirk and looked up at him with a judgemental glare.

“why is it that batman let’s selina get away with stealing, but the second she gets me to do her dirty work, im getting chased down by gotham’s resident goody two shoes?”

“because selina’s his fiance and has him wrapped around her finger, and you’re my girlfriend, double standards i know - but everyone’s a critic.” he shrugged, before grabbing at the bag in your hands. giving your nose a quick boop before turning to make his way back into the building.

“hey- give that back! and are you suggesting that you’re not as whipped for me as bruce is for selina? i thought we were meant to be soulmates.”

“of course i’m as pathetically desperate as he is, whenever im around you i feel like a wet dog whining for attention. do you know how much self control it’s taking to grab this bag off of you?”

you hummed, satisfied with his answer - and the use of the soulmate bond to get said answer out of him. you swayed your hips as you walked up to him, pressing a palm to his chest while the other dragged down his arm.

you could hear his breath hitch, almost hear him purr as you plucked the bag from his hands, pressing a kiss to his jaw.

“then i’m sure bats will understand why you couldn’t get the bag back, hm?” you stepped away from him, a grin in place of the smug expression you had moments ago. “i’ll see you at home, love you!”

you jumped off the roof, making your way back to selina with the goods secured.

“hey uh… bruce?”

he heard his mentor sigh on the other end of the comms. bruce knew all too well the struggles of being bonded to the cats of gotham.

[angelltheninth]

Hey you know that trope where (usually) friends have to hide from a suspecting enemy but there is nowhere to really hide so the next best thing as to not draw attention to themselves is “quick we have to kiss because they are onto us!” One example is that one kiss scene with Steve rogers and Natasha.

Can you please write Clark, Bruce, Dick and Jason being in that similar scenario with reader? Whoever initiated it is up to you :)

I've written multiple fics with that exact premise, I know the trope very well.

Pairing: Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Clark Kent x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, undercover mission, kissing, catching feelings, flirting

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters | Commissions

A/N: Would do this with Clark more than anyone tbh. He's so cute!

BRUCE WAYNE

Takes his mission very seriously, a lot serious than you actually. Not to say that you don't but as long as you're at a fancy party you might as well have fun with Bruce. He however wants to get in, get out and get the mission over with without the two of you getting discovered, which proves harder when people keep whispering about what a cute couple you are and looking at you all the time. When he tilts your chin and captures your lips in a kiss he notes the surprised sound that leaves your lips after which he tells you he's sorry for the quick decision, but he needed to sell the idea of the two of you actually being a couple now that that is the most popular narrative and the one that will help the two of you the most.

DICK GRAYSON

Is more than happy to go on a mission with you and be your pretend boyfriend for the evening, now if only he could gather up the courage to ask you to be his girlfriend for real. Maybe he will if this mission goes well, it would make him a lot less awkward around you at the very least. Dick keeps glancing at you and at the people around you, hearing them getting more and more suspicious of the two of you right before you pull him by the tie and take him to the dance floor, smirking the whole time. As he's blushing his body falls into a rhythm with yours, the movements natural, the music and the atmosphere getting to his head so much that he kisses you at the very end of the dance, eliciting cheers and claps from the crowd, no more doubt.

RED HOOD

Loved the fact that the two of you got picked for this mission because it gives him even more chance to tease you and make you blush. Jason knows he can be a bit of an ass sometimes, okay, a lot of the time, but that doesn't diminish the fact that he still enjoys your company a lot more than the company of others. The people around the two of you are constantly looking over, at you specifically and he hates that, he was supposed to look at you like that, not anyone else so he leans in close and asks you for a kiss, otherwise he fears someone might ask you instead and he will blow your cover. Blushing at his request you smash your lips against his to shut down any smug words he might say to you next.

CLARK KENT

Was flustered when you asked him to be your partner on this mission, but he did say yes, he wanted to go, he wanted to make sure you were safe. He was a little fidgety around you, nervously glancing at you, at your lips, at your pretty dress, then quickly back at the crowd when he'd get caught. You loves teasing Clark when he got like this, you knew he had a crush on you but didn't want to call him out on it, he should tell you that himself, which is what you hoped would happen on this mission. Instead he kisses you out of panic when someone asks if he was your boyfriend and then apologizes profusely afterwards, saying how he couldn't think of any other way to make the lie convincing, which is funny coming from a man like him.

[redr0sewrites]

kisses with them - DC Batboys Hcs

🥀A/n: your honor i want to put them in a jar and shake them up- anyways this is just something short n sweet i cooked up :)

🥀Cw: fluff, shenanigans, a little suggestive

🥀Character(s): Dick Grayson x reader, Jason Todd x reader, Bruce Wayne x reader

Dick Grayson :

lots of flirty, soft kisses!!!

his favorite places to kiss you are easily your lips or your hands, but he loves kissing every part of you!

Dick loves waking you up with kisses, peppering them all across your face before either of you are really even coherent. he'll start with a gentle kiss to your lips, before moving to your cheeks and forehead and finally your nose, in a gentle attempt to wake you up

this man is a BITER he's definitely the type to nip at you and give you little hickies when kissing you. be careful, because he will take a bite of your cheeks when kissing your face!!!!

Dick loves kissing your hands, whenever you cup his cheek or hold his face in your hands, be prepared for him to kiss not only your palm, but each one of your fingers and wrists as well

he's a very energetic kisser! Dick loves randomly pulling you into a deep kiss for seemingly no reason at all. he doesn't care who's around or whether or not you're in public, he will not hesitate to pull you in like a disney prince(ss) and kiss you right then and there

long, teasing makeout sessions!!!!! Dick loves pulling you onto his lap and kissing you silly. it doesn't even have to be sexual, he just loves having your lips against his

as for him, Dick loves when you give him neck kisses. he practically melts whenever your lips make contact to his neck, turning into your obedient pretty princess. absolutely obsessed with any hickies or marks you leave on HIM, and is not afraid to show them off. he has no shame, and wants everyone to know who he belongs to

HE LOVES LIPSTICK KISSES!!!! if you wear lipstick, it is your luckg day because he fucking loves them. he refuses to wipe them off and would love to spend the day covered in red lipstick smears

overall, he's a very affectionate kisser, and brings a lot of passion and energy into every kiss he gives you

Jason Todd :

this man is soooo touch starved, he loves any and all kisses shared between you two. however, his favorite places to kiss you are your forehead or your temple. its very meaningful and romantic, and he loves getting to wake up every morning and kiss his beloved right on the forehead

Jason is the type to press a kiss to your temple when he's just walking by, to the back of your neck when you're looking down, to your tummy when your shirt is rolled up, any and everywhere he can see. he just loves kissing you, what can i say?

whenever your stressed, anxious, or otherwise upset, Jason always takes the opportunity to cup your face in his hands and press the sweetest kiss to your forehead before whispering sweet nothings in your ear. this man is literally huge, and most likely has to lean down to reach you, but he doesn't mind it at all when it means he gets to press kisses all over your face

im a firm believer that Jason (and all the batboys) would love his partners body regardless of weight, and would looove kissing your thighs regardless of size. he definitely pays special attention to them during intimate times, and more often than not he finds his hand subconsciously wandering to hrip onto one of your thighs when sitting beside you. its not even always sexual, its just comforting for him

Jason's favorite place for you to kiss him? any of his scars. if he notices you paying special attention to them or kissing any of them, he just feels really emotional and fuzzy inside. it's strange to him how someone as perfect as you could love even the flawed parts of himself, and he finds himself enraptured whenever you express love to the parts of himself that he despises

Jason is not outwardly insecure, but he does sometimes miss how smooth his skin once looked without the scars and marks littered across it, especially his back. this being said, he loves when you kiss his back and remind him of how gorgeous he truly is.

Bruce Wayne :

Bruce loves good old fashioned lip kisses, but he also has a soft spot for kissing you on the top of the head, or on your shoulder/collarbone.

this man is fucking huge, and he's not ashamed to admit that he finds it adorable when you stand on your tip toes just to give him a kiss. this is partially why he adores simply kissing you on the mouth, but also because it just feels so intimate to him.

all kisses with Bruce are slow and emotional. he likes taking his time with you, and kisses reflect that.

when you both first started dating, it took him a while to even work up the courage to kiss you as he didn't want to seem too forward. however, after your shared first kiss, he was practically addicted. now he can't go a day without kissing you goodmorning, kissing you before he heads off to work, kissing you when he comes home for dinner, and kissing you before he goes on patrol. yes, all of these kisses are mandatory parts of your guys' days, and he loovesss them

kisses on top of your head are less intimate, but just as important. these are for lazy mornings spent with his strong arms wrapped around your body and your head nuzzled into the crook of his neck. these kisses are meant for when he comes up behind you while your cooking for him, wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing you gently on the top of the head.

shoulder kisses are a little more flirtatious than the others, these are for when you're wearing the gorgeous outfit he just bought you that shows just a bit more of your chest than strictly necessary, yet no one bats an eye when they realize who you're with. these kisses are for when all prying eyes are off you, when Bruce can inhale the scent of your delicious perfume/cologne and whisper soft promises in your ear.

where does Bruce like for you to kiss him? simple- his cheek. especially when he's wearing the batman mask. you both have a running joke that the entire reason the mask doesn't cover the bottom half of his face is because he would miss your cheek kisses too much.

they are all so silly i love them sm. SEND IN REQUESTS PLEEEEEEASE IM SO HAPPY TO FINALLY HAVE SOMETHING IM INTERESTED IN AGAIN LIFE WAS SOOOOOOO BORING WHEN I DIDNT HAVE ANY INTERESTS 😭😭😭

[nocturnewidow]

hay dovey ,, i need my bay nightwing , i was wondering if u could do something where readers fav animals r bats and he has an inside joke (seeing how he’s like batman’s little sidekick) YK … im licking my screen pls bae ur last one was so fire 🦇

Dating Nightwing and Your Favorite Animal is a Bat 🦇

“Another bat?” Dick’s voice is amused as he walks in, catching you mid-scroll through a list of adoptable fruit bats on your phone. “I swear, you have a type.”

You smirk but don’t look up. “What can I say? Bats are misunderstood, dramatic, thrive in the dark, and most of them are adorable once you look past the fangs. Remind you of anyone?”

He crosses his arms, arching a brow in mock offense. “If you say Bruce, I swear—”

You burst into laughter, already knowing where this is going.

“No,” you grin. “I was talking about his cuter, funnier, acrobatic little sidekick. You know, the one who pouts every time I call him Batboy.”

He groans and flops down beside you, burying his face in your shoulder. “You’re never letting that nickname die, huh?”

“Never ever. You’re my Batboy. It’s canon.”,,

He lifts his head just enough to give you that annoyingly perfect smile. “Fine. But if I’m Batboy, then you’re Batgirl, and we’re flying off into the night together. Just don’t make me wear a leash.”

You blink. “…I didn’t say don’t wear a leash.”

He chokes on air.

You wink, kissing his cheek as he sputters. “Now scoot, Batboy. I found a bat sanctuary that lets you hold them. We’re going on a date.”

He groans but follows you like a love-struck puppy. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

You sling your arm around his waist. “Correction. I’m lucky you’re obsessed with me.”

“Also true,” he mumbles, pulling you closer.

[fromdove]

STOLEN HOODIES & OTHER CRIMES OF THE HEART ! d.grayson x reader

The first time you “borrow” one of Dick’s hoodies, it’s an accident.

You’re soaked, shivering, and hiding in his apartment after a very unfortunate encounter with Gotham’s finest rainstorm. He offers it without thinking, tossing it at your head while digging around for tea like he’s hosting some kind of wet cat rehabilitation center.

You roll your eyes. “Thanks, Mom.”

“Wear it with gratitude,” he says over the sound of cabinets slamming. “That hoodie’s done more patrols than some beat cops.”

It’s warm. It smells like him — pine, soap, something faintly electric — and it swallows you whole. Your fingers disappear past the sleeves, your knees tucked into the hem.

You don’t give it back.

Not that night. Not the week after.

And definitely not after he texts you “bring my hoodie back, thief” and you send a picture of you wearing it… paired with sunglasses and the caption “possession is nine-tenths of the law.”

He stops complaining after that.

He starts leaving hoodies at your place “by accident.”

The fifth time, you're curled up on his couch in yet another one (this one black with a faded Nightwing symbol), and he just stares.

You glance up, lips brushing a mug. “What?”

“You realize you’re wearing my identity,” he says, blinking.

You take a casual sip. “Better than you do.”

Dick puts a hand to his chest like you’ve shot him. “Rude.”

“True.”

“Betrayal. In my own home.”

You gesture at the hoodie. “Your own hoodie.”

He opens his mouth. Closes it. Looks skyward like he’s praying for patience.

“You know,” he says, leaning down until he’s eye-level, voice softening into something warm and teasing, “I could just start wearing your clothes.”

You narrow your eyes. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Oh, wouldn’t I?”

“You’re six feet tall and built like a Greek god. You’d stretch out every sweater I own.”

“Bold of you to assume that’s a downside,” he murmurs.

Your heart stutters. Your breath catches.

He grins like he heard it.

A week later, you come home to find him standing in your kitchen — barefoot, making pancakes, wearing your pastel pink hoodie with a tiny embroidered duck on the chest.

The sleeves are tight. The hem doesn’t quite make it past his waist. He looks absurd.

And also unfairly hot.

You stare.

He flips a pancake.

You still stare.

Finally: “Dick.”

He glances over his shoulder. “Yes, dear?”

“Why are you in my hoodie?”

“You started it.”

You blink. “This is revenge?”

“This,” he says, sliding a perfectly golden pancake onto a plate, “is escalation.”

Later, he lets you steal the hoodie back off of him by kissing him dizzy.

You think that counts as a win.

He lets you think that, too.

© fromdove— All rights reserved. Reposting, translation, or modification of these works is strictly prohibited, regardless of whether credit is given.

∿　 　 . `💭` ㆍ

[nghtwngs]

ten seconds

description: dick is a little bit too impatient when it comes to you.

pairing: nightwing!dick grayson x reader

genre: light smut, fluff, established relationship

warnings: 18+!, dick being dick…, and dick, my fav double entendre

a/n: i don’t think i’ve posted anything since jan omg how’s it been that long already… anyways dresses over jeans!!!!

“Y’know, you should stop wearing jeans under your dresses. It’s a dress. Isn’t it like… the point that it’s supposed to be worn without pants?” Dick mumbles, unzipping your jeans to peel them off. “Takes longer to get them off you too.”

You snort, hands propped against his chest to lift yourself up for a moment. “It takes like ten seconds, Dick. You’ll be okay. And I like wearing them under my dresses. I think it’s cute.”

“I think it’s cute too, but those are ten more seconds I could be spending inside you.“

“You’ll live.”

He sighs dramatically as he throws your jeans somewhere, “Baby, will I?” You can feel him beneath you already, and you’ve barely done anything. “What an awful, cruel world it would be if I couldn’t spend every extra moment in you.”

You blink at him, equally unimpressed and amused by his display. “Dick…”

“What?” He grins like he does when he’s in trouble, and suddenly you forget everything else. And when he finally sinks you down onto his aching need, stretching you out—always feeling like it’s for the first time—your mind surrenders itself to the tight pleasure of Dick.

“Pretty,” he whispers, more to himself than anything. He continues while moving his calloused thumb to circle your sensitive nerves, “Maybe I should’ve just torn a hole in your jeans. Would’ve wasted only two seconds instead.”

[ahqkas]

DICK GRAYSON sat at the kitchen counter, his coffee mug forgotten in front of him, steam curling into the cold morning air. the gotham gazette lay open on the table, the bold headline screaming up at him like an obnoxious punchline to a joke he wasn’t in on.

GOTHAM’S GOLDEN BOY SPOTTED WITH MYSTERY GIRL: WHO IS SHE?

he groaned, dragging a hand down his face, his eyes flicking to the photo plastered beneath the headline. there he was, caught mid-laugh, snowflakes dusting his hair and his coat. and next to him—you. you looked radiant, even in the candid shot. your head was tilted toward him, eyes bright and mouth open in a laugh that looked so genuine it almost made him smile again just seeing it.

almost.

“unbelievable,” he muttered, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. the media always found a way to blow things out of proportion, but this? this was next-level ridiculous. he could already hear the teasing from barbara and tim, and god forbid jason got wind of this—he’d never hear the end of it.

his eyes darted back to the caption under the photo. “a budding romance? gotham wonders if richard grayson has finally met his match.” he rolled his eyes so hard it almost hurt. “really? my match?” he mumbled, shaking his head. It was one thing for them to speculate about him. he was used to it. he’d grown up under gotham’s relentless gaze, and by now, it was just background noise. but dragging you into it? that made his chest tighten with something closer to anger.

dick folded the paper with an exasperated sigh, careful not to crumple it too much even though he wanted to rip it to shreds. he didn’t want you to see it—not because he was embarrassed, but because he hated the idea of you feeling scrutinized. he could already imagine your reaction: a mix of shock, indignation, and that adorable little furrow in your brow when you were annoyed.

and what about your privacy? you weren’t used to this. you hadn’t signed up to be a headline or a trending topic on social media. dick rubbed the back of his neck, frustration bubbling under the surface. he’d have to talk to you, warn you about how relentless gotham’s tabloids could be. he wanted to make sure you knew this was on him—not you—and that he’d handle it.

but despite the annoyance, his lips quirked upward as he glanced at the photo again. you looked so happy, so unguarded. if there was one thing he couldn’t be mad about, it was the way the picture captured the way he felt when he was with you—like the rest of the world didn’t matter.

“well,” he muttered to himself, setting the paper aside. “at least they got my good side.”