#Nightwingxreader

[chthonia27]

A game of cat and mouse.

Dick Grayson x F!reader.

Content: A secret admirer’s love knows no bounds.

Word count: 1.2k

The city lights shone brilliantly in the dark of night, perched on a rooftop was the ex boy wonder, Nightwing. The harsh wind of winter blew in his hair, messing the strands of onyx out of their rightful place. He looked down to his escrima sticks, twirling it in one of his hands before gazing out to the city once more. It was nothing new, he thought. As much as he adored doing what he did, he couldn’t deny it was rather tiresome most nights, and as skilled as he was, he was always subjected to a few injuries at best. He wiped the dried blood from his lip, graciously given to him from the previous wannabe villain gang. He couldn’t help but grimace at the thought, so many criminals were emerging from seemingly no where, with no real motive other than wanting to be thorns at his side.

Once more, he swung into action. Slithering in and melting into the shadows, stealthily taking out any targets presented. He knew he should be focusing, knew he shouldn’t be distracted, but all he could think about was her. The newest member of the Young justice, the most stunning woman he’d ever met, plagued his mind frequently. Her beauty was that of a siren, her voice the sweetest melody he’d been blessed to hear, and her eyes. Oh her eyes. He would dream of gazing into them during some not to innocent moments. He adored her, loved her even. She was perfect in his eyes, a dream turned reality for him. Not even the endless teasing from his teammates could deter him from clinging onto her, hovering around her whenever he could despite her protests. She was a bit of a loner, charismatic and seductive, yes. But she often chose to isolate herself whenever possible. Whether that was after missions, during patrols or during team building missions. So! He had to improvise somehow, right? He couldn’t ever get more than a few words out of her, usually laced with snark and sarcasm. It was a game to him, multiple bouquets of flowers stuffing her room, to lavish jewels, beautiful hand written love letters to trinkets he believed she’d indulge in. He never signed a name to his gifts, having to stifle a laugh and play coy whenever he’d catch wind of her frustration with her mystery gift giver.

But alas, he couldn’t afford to be thinking about her. Not while he was currently dodging bullets and taking down men left and right. It was a constant, vicious cycle. One he’d been tangled with his entire life. Always having to perform, however that translated to. Circus or battlefield, it was draining regardless. Gods knew he deserved a break, a long vacation with the holder of his heart in a far away paradise. A man could dream. Soon enough, he finished his patrol gracefully, with many criminals that roamed the streets of Gotham now behind bars. Dick grappled back to Mount justice, entering the cave with haste, his eyes searching for her. He entered the common room, where his team was situated. Friends he’d fought with almost all of his teenage years, people for whom he’d led and supported. That’s besides the point, they aren’t the main focus currently. Prior to returning, he’d managed the energy to buy another gift. An ethereal set of diamond necklaces, adorned with pearls that sat snug between the stones. A pretty red ribbon to secure the jewellery box and he was set! Admittedly, he’d spent many thousands on her, and this little habit of his has only started two weeks ago. Had he gone overboard? Of course not! How else would he acquire the love of such a beauty? He called out to his team, “Evening, guys!”, leaving the room before anyone could respond. Tiptoeing around the cave, he reached her room. Leaning his head against the door, he listened for any sounds or presence of life on the room, smirking victoriously when he confirmed she wasn’t inside. He set her gift on her bed and took in her space. Her room reeked of goth, the tall black canopy bed with intricate engravings, the velvet black curtain drape of the bed adding a sense of both privacy and comfort. Her furniture vintage and Victorian looking, and candles accompanied by roses adorned every surface in view. So elegant, so her. Taking a rose, he placed it on top of the jewellery box, once more given with an unsigned identity. Sneaking out of her room, he went about his own nightly routine, showering and dressing himself before doing his hair. Always well kept, especially in her presence. It was rather cute, really. How he’d try to impress her every way possible, always so put together for her. Entering the kitchen, he took out many ingredients and began cooking, taking advantage that most teammates were now preparing to enter the night’s embrace, leaving the only two insomniacs alone. A romantic dinner, for a hopeless romantic.

While he worked on dinner for the two, a nightly routine for the night owls, he hummed softly. His favourite part of the day, coming home and being able to spend time with her, wether he was the one cooking or not, her presence was enough to satiate the longing in his heart. Most of the time. Like clock work, she emerged from her room and graced Dick with her presence. Her stunning hair wet from her shower, and an almost tired look in her gorgeous eyes. His breath hitched when he caught sight of her. She belonged in a painting, he was sure of it.

“What’s on the menu tonight, master Grayson?”, she teased with a smirk that sent shivers of lust down his spine. “Carbonara, doll.”, his smooth voice rung out easily. She hummed in acknowledgment and sat down on the kitchen stool, chin in hand as she watched the man work. She had to admit, he was a sight for sore eyes. Muscles rippling under his shirt, his hair messily attractive after his bath, and his cologne wafting through the kitchen subtly in a way that almost made her want to kiss and mark him. Almost. But there was another pressing matter at hand, one she’d been dying to figure out.

“Dick.”

“Yes?”

“Is it you?”

Now that caught him off guard. Did she know? Had she seen through his attempts at secrecy? “Is what me?”, he said nonchalantly, a skill he’d adapted over many years living alongside his brothers. “The gifts. Is it you?”, her voice firm yet quiet. “I don’t know what you’re referring to, doll. You’ve been receiving gifts? Should I be jealous?”, he casually shot back as a smirk tugged at his lips and sighed internally as she seemed to have bought it. He prepared her plate, giving her a generous amount of the food he’d made, and sat a wine glass down next to it, pouring only the finest wine he’d come across. A perk of being adopted by a billionaire, he supposed. Being able to decipher and build upon an extensive knowledge of the most refined beverages.

“Cheers, love.”

My very first writing piece! Please let me know what you think or anything that could be improved! I hope you’ve enjoyed! :3

[ecelestia]

nightwing razy x — antologia one-shotów x reader | PL

wattpad.

Rycerz Gotham

[rainydayfiction]

Cold Hands and Christmas

Dick Grayson x Reader

Merry Christmas, everybody!! This is a gift for my best friend, @veonfan

I hope you all have a lovely day, whether you celebrate or not, and I hope you enjoy this little drabble.

I don’t think I like it as much as the Jason one because it feels a little rushed, but fingers crossed you’ll like it anyway.

Word count: 1261

Warnings: None

Christmas Eve in Gotham comes with a snowstorm, and your boyfriend decides you’d be perfect for helping him warm up after patrol.

The fire crackles in the fireplace, illuminating the great hall in a soft, glowing light. The clock in the corner chimes the hour; only one to go until Christmas morning (technically) begins. A few more still before your boyfriend and his family will be able to call it a night. Outside the walls of the manor, Gotham is growing increasingly white and frosty. Initially, you and many others had been excited at the first sign of snowfall in the early afternoon. However, as the day wore on and night fell, the pleasant weather became worrying: the snow had grown from a soft flurry of small flakes, to a low-level blizzard. The wind picked up to boot, blurring the whole mess until it was one big white wall.

This development had worried you greatly when it arose. Jumping off of roofs and hunting down criminals was dangerous enough to begin with—in these conditions, it could be disastrous. When you brought up this point, Dick just laughed and pulled you into a hug, attempting to crush your worries—and you—against his chest.

“It’s snowed in Gotham before,” he soothed, tucking your hair back behind your ear. “We’re all used to it by now. Besides, poor conditions usually make the baddies just as hesitant to go out as we are.”

You raised a brow at this, thinking of several villains and their escapades that could be brought up to prove him wrong. “Oh, really?”

Dick laughed. “Yes, really. Besides, it’s Christmas Eve. Don’t look at me like that—there are at least a handful of rogues who likely have something better to do. Have a little faith, would you?” The grin splitting his handsome face widened, and he wiggled his eyebrows at you. “Where’s your holiday spirit, babe? Don’t you believe in Christmas miracles?”

Your scoff sounds more like a snort, and you have to laugh. Leave it to Dick Grayson to ease your worries with a smile and a joke.

“You’ve been dating me for how long? I thought you’d have figured out you were dating the grinch by now.”

“You’re awfully cute for a grinch, if that’s the case—“

“Tt—Grayson, can you stop your incessant flirting and move already?”

You laughed again, and Dick shook his head. Leave it to Damian to pull everybody back to reality, the little brat.

“What, a guy can’t even properly say goodbye to his girlfriend? On Christmas? What is this world coming to?”

Damian made a disgusted noise and took his leave, deciding he’d rather not deal with Dick’s nonsense.

“Well, you heard him, birdy boy. Besides—it’s not Christmas just yet.” You smiled up at him, smoothing the edges of his domino mask over his eyes before standing on your toes to kiss him goodbye. “Try to come back in time for the actual holiday, alright?”

Dick hummed in response and stole another kiss. “I’ll give it a shot, just because you asked. I love you, (Y/N).”

“I love you too, Dick. Now get going—Damian looks like he’s about to go from nice to naughty.”

And with that, off went your boyfriend and his family, out to save the city. And here you were hours later, watching the fire dance and waiting for their return. Without realizing it, you begin to doze off, lulled by the warmth of the flames and the blanket wrapped snugly around you. Some time later, you find yourself roused by the couch dipping next to you. Something tugs at the blanket you’re cocooned in, and after a moment you find yourself wrapped up in a strong pair of arms, with your cheek resting against something solid but soft.

“Dick…?” You mumble drowsily, a deep breath in answering your question for you when your lungs are filled with his scent.

“Hey, (Y/N). Merry Christmas.”

A smile curls your lips up at the edges, and you sit up to rub at your eyes. Your lovely boyfriend has somehow managed to nestle himself under the blanket with you- not that you’d complain. He’s wearing a faded pair of jeans and the black sweater with blue stripes across the chest and sleeves that you know is his favorite. He looks tired, but just as unharmed as he did when he left. You hum in relief and lean up to press a kiss to his cheek.

“Merry Christmas, Dickie bird… Did everything go ok?”

Dick gives you a lazy grin, and a lazy kiss to match. “Unless you count Jay bitching about the cold, everything was great. No perps out and about, looks like they all decided to be smart and stay out of this blizzard. Just like I told you. B decided we could call it a night early.”

You nod, leaning your head back against his shoulder and getting ready to settle down. “That’s a relief… where are the boys and the big man?”

“Bruce’s still down in the cave with Damian. Tim decided to fix up some equipment to handle the cold and snow, and somehow he roped Jason into helping him. They’ll probably be up soon…”

There’s a smirk in his voice at the end of his explanation, and you lift your head again to give him a suspicious look. He’s plotting something. You open your mouth to call him out on it, but it’s too late. Within the span of a few seconds the acrobat has you flipped over and pinned on the couch, with his still fucking freezing hands under your shirt, tickling you.

“Richard John Grayson!”

Dick cracks up at your indignant squeal, like the gentleman he is, and proceeds to continue torturing you while you laugh and writhe under him. Eventually, he stops, leaving you heaving and panting while you try to get your breath back. His hands are pressed against the small of your back, and he rests his chin on your chest so he can grin up at you. Once your sides aren’t splitting anymore, you find it in you to smack him in the shoulder and attempt (key word: attempt) to glare at him.

“Care to explain that totally uncalled for and unwarranted assault and breach of my trust?”

The dark-haired man just continues to give you that cheeky grin of his that he knows you can’t be angry with and wiggles his fingers lightly underneath you.

“My hands aren’t cold anymore.”

“Dick.”

He laughs and feigns hurt, looking up at you with kicked puppy eyes. “Aw, that sounded like an insult rather than my name. I’m hurt, babe.”

You roll your eyes, but find yourself chuckling again. You can’t seem to do much else with such a goofball around.

“I think you’ll get over it,” you murmur, becoming occupied with combing your fingers through the mess of his hair. The raven-colored strands are slightly damp, but you can’t tell if it’s due to a shower in the cave or the snow outside. The two of you fall into comfortable silence for a while, you playing with your boyfriend’s hair and your boyfriend occasionally rubbing now-warm circles into your back.

Dick lifts his head from your chest. You look down at him happily, brushing his bangs back from his eyes. The smile on his face is softer than it usually is, and your insides melt into slush when he leans up to press that smile against your lips in a gentle kiss.

“Merry Christmas, (Y/N),” he whispers against your mouth. You close your eyes with a smile of your own, forehead pressed against his.

“Merry Christmas, Dick.”

[kimberly-spirits13]

HI!!!!!!!! Your Two Face NightwingxReader was GREAT!!!!!!!!!

Thank you so much!!!

[batfamimagines]

Can you do a fun fluff imagine where reader is dating dick and is close friends with Jason and it's just hanging out with her and her two favorite men. :DDD

Timeline is a bit skewed in this...Dick’s only recently a police officer, idk I haven’t read classic Nightwing since I was in primary school so I’m a little out of it... Jason’s feet were in your lap. “The mini-series version was so much better,” Jason complained about the Pride and Prejudice movie. You secretly agreed but- “You just miss Colin Firth.” Jason snorted but didn’t object. “I miss the extra three hours of plot,” he said instead. You roll your eyes at him dramatically just as your apartment door opens and the very attractive Officer Grayson made his presence known. You can’t help the snort at his outfit though. Your Dick Grayson, a police officer. Your Nightwing, one of the boys in blue, the same men the Bat Family typically were competing against, or at the very least secretly judging and spying on. And in Bludhaven, of all places. Gotham wasn’t messed up enough for him? He gave you a pout. “You’re going to have to stop laughing at the uniform at some point,” he told you. “I only snorted that time!” Dick made a noise and slipped on the couch next to you, waving Jason’s feet off your lap. He sat up too. “At least it’s better than his disco outfit.” “Ooh, yeah,” you agree with wide eyes and a fake shudder. “If he’d been wearing that abomination when we’d met...” You shudder again. “Laugh it up,” Dick said, taking a swipe from the half-empty bowl of popcorn on the coffee table in front of you. “You’re just lucky there’s no such thing as the fashion police,” you tease. Jason scoffs. “What, so he could go undercover as one of them as well?” “I’m not undercover,” Dick tells you both patiently for the hundredth time. “This is my life now.” Jason waves him off with a “Whatever”. “What are we watching?” Dick asked, clearly trying to change the topic as he stretched and slung an arm over your shoulders.“Smooth,” you said flatly. Your gaze turned to the television. “The Pride and Prejudice movie, supposedly. We’ve mostly been trying to plan an intervention about your whole police thing.” Jason grinned lopsidedly at you. “We were going to invite Barbara and Kori, but we thought having them both in the same room might make your red hair fetish horribly obvious.” You tug at your own hair and scowl at him. “That’s how you know it’s true love,” he comforted you. You make a noise. “I don’t have a fetish,” he complains. “It’s alright,” you comfort him. “I have a fetish for attractive non-powered costumed heroes who jump off buildings at a moments notice.” You lean towards Jason suggestively. “Luckily I only really know two of them.” Dick pulls you back closer to him protectively. “Lucky you’re mine,” he finished for you.You grin up at him, interlacing your fingers with the hand around your shoulders. “Lucky,” you agreed in false solemnity. 

I saw a comic where Jason reads Pride and Prejudice and now I will never let it go. Full disclosure. I haven’t actually watched the 2005 movie version of Pride and Prejudice...Is it good? Like I really do prefer mini-series of classics over the movies but idk. Also I totally didn’t type Nightwang for a second there....

Send me Batman/Batfamily prompts, headcanons and imagines!  

[chthonia27]

Divine paradox

Dick Grayson x F!reader.

Content: Two unlikely souls entwined in a sacred affinity, the dance of Life and Death, a romance etched in the skies.

Tw: nudity, suggestive tone implied.

WC: 2k

Yin and Yang, push and pull. Life and death. That was a dance performed since the beginning of time. The balance needed so that the cosmos don’t devolve into chaos, so that all may know the value of life, and the importance of death. Sat on his throne, dressed in the finest of fabrics and engraving of pure gold, a halo of light surrounding his raven hair, was the God of life, Dick. The benevolent ruler of the universe, creator of all life and love, protector of souls. Everything the god touched, life would prosper. His sacred space, the realm to which he resides in, what could only be described as paradise, paled in comparison to his longing for Death.

He ran a thumb over the carved intricacies of his throne, his pink lips curled into a pout as his soul sang in longing for his counterpart, needing her presence always beside him. The god of life was rather.. clingy, to say the least. Such a primordial would be expected to act impartial, however he was absolutely taken by his love. Huffing and puffing, he bridged the distance to her realm without much difficulty. A cold, lifeless interval, wherein his love resided. Death. Such a misunderstood primordial being. She wasn’t evil by any means, contrary to popular belief. Merely continuing the cycle, no matter how intimidating, or outright spine chilling her presence was, she cared for the souls she looked after and justly punished those who have led less than desirable lives, allowing them to atone and relive the pain they’ve caused before their souls may evolve. She was anything but cruel, forgiving in fact. Comforting the souls of the lost, the sick, the injured and the young, a solace for their frayed souls.

Death. So just, so equal to all, so final. It was beautiful, really. How the creations he’d created with his own essence and loved so dearly would always be in her sweet embrace when the time called for it. Almost as if a piece of him would always be with her, cared for in the darkness of the underworld and in her cold yet loving embrace. At least that’s how he viewed it. The God of Life promptly arrived to the gates of none other than the terror of most entities. Calling out to his love, rather obnoxiously, he entered her realm. Death was.. difficult, to say the least. Authorative, hard headed, cold and incredibly standoffish, she was. But hauntingly beautiful, her entire being called out to the god of life’s like no other, akin to the sea nymphs that lured unsuspecting sailors into the trenches of the dark ocean depths. The moon to his sun, the counterpart to his being, his soulmate. The flower to which the beast of his jealousy guards ever so fiercely. None other designed so perfectly for him, and he for her, an indestructible bond so pure shared between the two divinities, a bond so etched into their souls unlike anything ever seen. She was always so curt and dry, never sparing another glance or thought to other beings of the galaxy, never paying any mind to the fruitless dramas that roamed the community of the gods, focusing solely on her duties. He however coaxed another complex faction of hers since the dawn of time, albeit subtle. Wether it was how he’d always pique her interest, her eyes trailing him wherever he’d advance, or the softening of her gaze and even the way she’d pepper gentle kisses to the slope of his nose and the contour of his jaw in the comfort of their realms, he knew deep within his being that he was loved.

”My Death! Where are you, my love?”, he yelled as he passed her soulless garden. Decaying roses, bare and withering trees along the edges of the stream of souls, dried soil and thorned vines covering the masses of the land, but he could only see beauty in it all. Beauty in her. He made his way to her throne room, the very same one to which all beings would enter and be passed judgment upon. His silk, white robes dragging at the stone as he walked to her, his eyes sparkling with sincere, unmistakable endearment as he eyed her form perched on her throne.

“My Death, there you are. I’ve missed you. Still brooding?” he teased, a smirk tugging at his lips as he kissed her knuckles. “No smile for me? Not even happy to see me? You wound me, dear. I shall die by the cold hands of death herself. Poetic, no?” He complained with no real malice, only meaning to rile her up. It’s fair to say he isn’t the only one who draws out a different narrative from the other, as she always brought out his mischief, his inner most chaos, and yet still displayed in ways that were reverential to her.

“Must you always be so boisterous in your arrival?”

A deep, velvety laugh escaped him as his eyes fixed on her alluring face, the softness of her plush lips pleading to be kissed. “I am simply expressing my enthusiasm for finally being in your presence after eons of not being in your graces, beloved.” She gave him a deadpan expression as she replied, “it has only been an hour since you last left.”

“Guilty as charged.”

“You’re hopeless.”

“For you.”

She rolled her eyes, but couldn’t suppress the fond smile that graced her ethereal features, in turn igniting a deep sense of satisfaction in the aforementioned god. She lifted herself from her throne and wrapped her arms around his neck, nuzzling his chest as she inhaled the naturally intoxicating aroma of the earthy and slightly Smokey notes of her beloved.

“Ah, so you do have a heart.”

“Must you always ruin the moment?”

He gasped dramatically, almost shifting his weight completely on her as he feigned faintness. “Beloved! Must you always be so cruel to your husband?!” He bellowed out, his loudness echoing in the throne room in such a way that almost caused him to wince, the weight of his body crushing his beloved and nearly making her loose her footing.

“Ugh! Dick!”

“You remember my name!”

They both knew well she’d intentionally said it with a dual meaning behind her words, but they’d chosen to ignore it for now. He wrapped his hands on the back of her thighs, hoisting her up so that she may wrap her legs over his waist. He pressed a reverent kiss to her collar bone and to the sternum of her chest, nipping lightly at her cleavage before meeting her gaze once more. He simply admired her beauty, one so unmatched and unique, one that plagued his mind and has during his entire existence. A beauty so special he could worship until the ends of time. The look in his eyes could only be described as love-struck, pupils blown wide and his lips parted as he imagined the feel of once more capturing hers in a kiss. She was perfect, the epitome of beauty to him, no other could ever hold candles to his beloved. He closed his eyes and buried his face in the crevice of her neck before setting her down once more.

“Come with me.”

“Oh?”

That piqued his interest, curious eyes searching her face for any inkling as to what she had planned. She took his hand in hers and turned around, leading him from the throne room to her private chambers, and he couldn’t help but notice how hypnotically her hips swayed as she walked. The soulfully tied divinities navigated through the large expanse of the underworld before arriving at her bedchambers, entering the adjoining bathroom. His eyes scanned the area, a large crystal bathtub, that could truthfully be classed as pool due to its sheer size, coated in rose petals, candles situated on every surface of the room. He inhaled deeply, the sweet scent of vanilla tickling his senses.

“What’s this, beloved?”

“I’ve missed you.”

His heart flipped and his chest tightened with affection at her declaration. The love he felt coursing through his veins only sizzled beneath his tanned skin. He gently backed her up on the sink, forehead resting against hers as he kissed the corners of her mouth.

“Let me help you.”

Slowly, he placed his hands on her shoulders, his thumbs gently rubbing the nape of her neck. “Hm, my love, so beautiful..” His fingers found the straps of her dress, slowly slipping them off her shoulders and lowering them down her arms to expose her skin. Ever so gently, he ran his hands over the now exposed skin, admiring her like it was the first time he saw her nude body.

He slowly untied the back of her dress, lowering it further, the soft, silky material falling to her hips. “My beautiful mistress of death..” He gently pulled her body against his, his hands trailing over her bare chest and stomach. He continued to shower her in kisses, his lips moving down her neck and shoulder, his hand exploring her body. His mouth soon found her ear, his breath warm against her skin as he whispered quietly.

“I’m the most fortunate god in the whole universe.”

Kneeling down, he slid the dress completely off of her, gently lifting her legs and pressing kisses from her calves up to her thighs, worshipping her form with the purest of devotions. Once done, the god stood in between her legs, arms wrapped around her waist as he lowered himself to press a chaste kiss to her lips, tongue darting out to lick along her bottom lip, seeking entry into the warm cavern of her mouth. When permitted, the muscle danced with her own, exploring the familiarity of her as he tugged her impossibly closer, the feeling of her soft hands coming to unrobe him sending shivers down his spine. After the soft material of his clothing had pooled at his feet, he hoisted her up once more and slowly sat in the bathtub, his beloved straddling his lap as he continued the kiss, calloused hands palming at the softness of her skin, then moving to cup her face and run his digits through the silky strands on her head. The aroma of vanilla wafted through the room, the gentle flicker of the flames licking divinely on her features, illuminating her beauty even more. He pulled back only to catch his breath, the sensation of her bare body on his enough to make him want to abandon everything and spend eternity in the safety of her arms. He wordlessly pulled her flush against him, her soft curves contrasting with the hard planes of his hard chest and abdomen, lips coming to pepper kisses on her temples as he began to wash her. Skilled fingers massaging at her scalp, rinsing and repeating his steps before applying the conditioner to her strands. He loved to cater to her, his presence in the cosmos was designed for this. To love her, worship her as she should be. He then began to soothe the knots out of her tense shoulders, lips suckling at her neck, leaving evidence of his love in the physical form, gently washing her stresses away.

After completing their routine, lovingly caring for the other in such cherished ways, they simply continued to hold one another, whispering sweet nothings as the worries of their days melted away into the abyss of the forgotten. The warm water washed over the pair as they embraced, their bodies moulding into one, testament of their affections. Their skin slick and smooth from the water, arms around each other, relishing in the security provided within each other, the consolation of their presence a soothing balm to their souls, a comfort only they could find in each other away from the rest of the cosmos.

In the quietness of their moment, in the safety of their embrace and the intimacy thick with their love, there truly is no other place the god of life would rather be.

“I love you.”