#dick gryason

[captainsophiestark]

Unexpected Guest

Dick Grayson x Reader

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Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)

Fandom: DC

Summary: Dating a vigilante sometimes leads to a few false alarm scares, but Dick Grayson couldn't be happier with how well his partner rolls with his crazy family.

Word Count: 1,410

Category: Fluff

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

Crash!

My eyes shot open at the sound of a noise from the living room of the apartment I shared with my boyfriend, Dick Grayson. The man in question still snored peacefully next to me, annoyingly, but a quick glance at the clock told me why. It wasn't quite 5am, and Dick had been out patrolling until one in the morning. I listened carefully for any other noises in the apartment. I didn't want to wake my poor boyfriend up unless I absolutely had to.

After a few minutes of nothing, I heard another crash followed by a tense voice and what sounded like hushed swearing. This time, I didn't hesitate to roll over and whack Dick on the chest, hard.

His eyes shot open and he was half sitting up when I managed to throw a hand over his mouth to keep him from giving away that we were awake. My wide eyes must've tipped him off to something being wrong, because I immediately saw him shift from sleepy to ready for action.

Slowly, I dropped my hand from his mouth and leaned in to whisper in his ear.

"There's someone in our living room. I heard two crashes and someone swearing."

Dick nodded once, then motioned with his hands while mouthing 'stay here'. He hopped off the bed, grabbing his escrima sticks from where he'd thrown them onto the dresser, then stalked towards the door with catlike grace and stealth. After a minute, I decided I couldn't just let him go alone, superhero or no, so I grabbed the bat I kept by my side of the bed and followed after him.

Dick popped out the door, and after a moment without hearing anything, I followed, bat at the ready. I found my boyfriend with one hand on his hip, weapons down, staring into the kitchen. I followed his gaze to find none other than Jason Todd in our kitchen, a mixing bowl and some eggs in front of him and a look with a significant lack of guilt on his face.

"What? I was after somebody and it dragged me all the way to Bludhaven. I needed a place to crash that was closer than Gotham."

Dick and I both shook our heads. As the oldest of a very high number of siblings, his apartment had become a second home base for every single other batkid. When we'd finally moved in together last month, he'd warned me I needed to be prepared for things like this.

"Glad you know to help yourself, Little Wing," said Dick with a sigh, waving one tired hand to Jason before turning and heading back to bed. I squeezed his shoulder and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek as he passed me, then headed into the kitchen with a smile.

"My tax for you making me think I'd have to fight off an assailant with a bat at five in the morning is my own serving of whatever you're making," I said, taking a seat on one of the kitchen island stools. Jason raised an eyebrow at me.

"You're not going back to bed?"

"Nah. Unlike Dick, I got to bed at a somewhat reasonable hour last night, so the adrenaline dump isn't threatening to put me to sleep. I'd rather hang out with you, especially since you're a better cook than Dick and I combined. I'm not missing out on that."

Jason snorted, cracking an egg and resuming his cooking all the same.

"Dick contributes nothing to your combined cooking score," he said. "I'm pretty sure he's burned cereal before."

I laughed. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure you're right. He's gotten better though. We watch the Food Network and look up recipes to make together, and I can trust him with way more than I used to be able to."

"If you could teach him anything it'd be a miracle," said Jason with a snort. I just hummed, trying to pick up some new skills of my own as I watched Jason cook.

"To be totally fair to him, I once forgot what I was doing and strained soup because I was on autopilot for pasta."

Jason barked a laugh, unable to hold himself back, and looked at me with a grin and a raised eyebrow.

"Really?" I nodded. "That's pathetic."

I just shrugged. "Yeah. But at least there's not a lot of places to go but up, after that."

"I guess so."

Jason and I chatted as he cooked and I watched, keeping our voices low so Dick could sleep—although, after the night he'd had, he'd probably sleep through a train in our living room. After breakfast, Jason decided to go down for a nap on the couch, passing out almost as soon as we'd put the last few dishes in the sink. I just smiled, threw a blanket over him, and wandered back into the bedroom to find Dick.

It was late enough in the morning now that my boyfriend was officially up and about, stretching by the bed with his hair still a little messed up from sleeping. I grinned and flopped down against the headboard as he crossed the room to the dresser to pull out clothes.

"How's Jaybird?" he asked. "Still a good cook?"

"Still a great cook. And he's good. He seems a little wiped out from patrols and stuff, though. He's taking a nap on the couch right now."

Dick smiled and shook his head. "I get up and he goes to sleep. Typical."

"Clearly he's avoiding you."

"Clearly."

Dick and I shared a smile, and then he sighed.

"I'm going to take a shower. Hopefully Jason will be up by the time I'm out, because I actually have things to do today."

I smiled, shifting on the bed to pull the covers over myself. "I'm sure you can be quiet if he's not. Wake me up when you're out of the shower, okay? A post-breakfast nap sounds too good to resist right now."

My boyfriend laughed. "Alright, will do. I'll wake you and Jason up when I'm out."

"Mhm. Good luck with him."

"Thanks, I'm gonna need it."

I closed my eyes, getting comfortable and ready for my nap, but before I drifted off I heard Dick's shuffling footsteps crossing the room to stand by my side of the bed. A second later, he sat down next to me, the bed dipping under his weight. I cracked an eye open to squint at him.

"What do you want?"

He grinned at me and chuckled.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to interfere with your nap. I just... I wanted to say how much I appreciate you, and how good you are with my family. They mean the world to me, but I know having vigilantes dropping in at all hours of the day and night can be a little much to deal with. So thank you for being so wonderful about it, and about them."

I sighed, sitting all the way up and propping myself up on my hands to look Dick in the eye.

"Dick, I love you. And I love your family. Sure, it took a little getting used to some of the vigilante stuff, but the longer I know them the more I love them. You don't have to thank me for anything. They're my family too."

Dick absolutely beamed at me, wrapping one arm around my back and pulling me in for a kiss. I immediately reciprocated, tangling one hand in the hair at the nape of his neck. I smiled into the kiss and a moment later, Dick deepened it. We were right on the edge of escalating into something more, but both thought better of it at the last moment.

"I should take a shower," he said, still looking a little reluctant as he pulled away.

"Yeah, and you should stop interrupting my nap."

Dick snorted, rolling his eyes as he finally stood and headed for the bathroom. I grinned after him as he went, flopping back down onto my pillow only as Dick closed the bathroom door.

I took a deep breath and sighed, a smile on my face, as I closed my eyes for the second time. I heard the water start in the bathroom, and a faint smell of breakfast still hung in the air. I was surrounded by people I loved dearly, and who loved me right back. No matter the scare Jason had given me when he'd shown up, I couldn't ask for a better start to my morning than this.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989

DC Taglist: @luv-ghostie

[woowinnie]

💯💯💯 Next month [April 2024] will be the release of Nightwing issue 113 - which is the hero's solo titled Legacy issue 300! Writer will be Tom Taylor with legendary creator of the Nightwing in the New Teen Titans Marv Wolfman contributing and the artists Bruno Redondo and Daniele Di Nicuolo. 🥳

[crimsonkingart]

I found a brush suitable for drawing bruises!! I feel in heaven!! I can draw even more bruises on their bodies!! 🤤🤤

[celaenaeiln]

You've said in one of your posts that Dick was a queer symbol, is there any comics/panels where it's shown explicitly (as explicit as DC can do)

(btw really love all of your post you write so well)

Thank you!! <3333 :>

Nightwing (2016) Issue #105 variant cover!

They have Wally looking real interested in Nightwing's legs.

(Also laughing that Tim is using his brother for views. You’re a cute little menace Tim ❤️)

Nightwing (2016) Issue #81 variant cover

He's apparently bi or more in the Gotham Knights game.

By DC creators who created a list of the most "crush-worthy characters" for DC Pride promotion, Dick appeared the most out of all the characters, appearing on several creators’ lists.

Danny Lore a queer comic writer said, "Obviously we all have a crush on Nightwing. That's just natural."

Dick's considered the winner of that unofficial competition so I'd say everyone in DC, at one point or another, has had a crush on Nightwing.

Grayson Issue #9

He's talking about the tie but istg it took me a full year to understand he's not joking about his sexuality. I was like what? It was so out of left field.

Here he's talking to Tim:

Gryason Issue #13

"...And my charms do work on him."

"That's the birdwatcher I know...wait, did you just say 'him'?"

Devin Grayson, Tom King, and Tim Seeley all said they want to portray him as interested in men and Matt Bomer (which is so freaking weird because when I saw him in White Collar I immediately thought Neal Caffery was real life Dick Grayson) said Dick was a closet gay.

And that's about a explicit as DC will get with him but I'm more than happy with all this :)

[frothing-at-the-mouth]

I have made some new embroidered keychains > : ) I also plan on doing a design for each Robin eventually but right now I have made one of just the first Robin(Dick) and a design of Billy, But I think they turned out cool! You can get them here from my shop if any of you are interested!

(ID: A photo comprised of 4 different photos. There are two keychains featured. Photo one is labeled Grayson Side A and has a keychain with Dick Gryason! RObin on it grinning and waving a hand. Photo 2 is labled Grayson Side B and shows the other side of the same keychain with Nightwing on it, he grins with a hand behind his head. Photo 3 is labeled Batson Side A and shows a key chain with Captain Marvel/Shazam on it, he grins wit his hands on his hips. Photo 4 shows the other side of the same keychain, the photo is labeled Batson Side B, on they keychain features Billy smirking with his arms crossed, a lightning bolt going towards him -ID End)

[woahajimes]

watching yja s3 is basically just

[jinmukangwrites]

Whumptober 2021 - October 1 - Bound

Fandom: Nightwing, Batman - All Media Types

AO3

Warnings: Kidnapping, Panic Attacks, Isolation, mentions of IV/needles

---

It’s been hours since Dick’s woken up… here.

“Here” is hard to describe, yet incredibly easy. He can say for sure that at least within the 180 degrees ahead of him, it’s all white. White walls that, if arranged in a mirrored-image behind him, might make a hexagon. The ceiling above him is bright and unforgiving, LED lights dotting the space above him like freckles on Barbara’s cheeks and shoulders. He can’t see any sign of a door ahead of him, and the gray-speckled white tiles that make the floor aren’t particularly enjoyable to look at.

Yeah, describing what he can see about the room is the easy part. The hard part is that behind him? It’s all guess-work. For all he knew, there could be nothing behind him, or a cliff, or… or something ridiculous. There could be a whole manner of things behind him, but it’s impossible for him to get a look because his head is strapped to the cushioned chair he’s forced to sit on.

He hates this. It’s been hours. The chair, while cushioned, isn’t even that comfortable. The way his arms lay on the armrests and his feet come together near the end of the chair suggests a dentist’s chair and a therapist’s sofa had an evil love-child who was into bondage, considering how many straps were buckled in to keep him trapped down.

He’s going to lose his mind. Did he really just make a bondage joke about a chair?!

Anyway, he’s stuck here, his arms pinned down by the wrists, elbows, and under his armpits. Two heavy straps run over each shoulder and cross in the middle of his chest to connect back to the chair near his hips. And speaking of hips, there’s another strap around them too like an old Volkswagen seat belt. More straps around his thighs, knees, and ankles keep his legs locked together and down. That’s not even mentioning the binds that lock around his neck or the one around his forehead that’s fitted to the headrest that seems designed to not let him even attempt to rotate his chin to the side.

It’s horrible, and awful, and cruel, and unusual, and he’s not even that sure why he’s here. All he can tell is that he has a massive headache, his Nightwing mask is on but his suit is gone—replaced by some sort of nightgown that definitely doesn’t seem friendly, and whenever he tenses his arm he can feel a tug in his wrist.

Must be an IV of some sort? It’s strange though, from what he can see he can’t see any medical equipment hanging around him. But it has to be an IV. With his night job, he’s become familiar with the way his lips go dry and how his fingers tremble when the damn needle gets put in his arm.

But… if it is an IV, it must need changing by now, surely. It’s been hours, and those things don’t last that long.

Hours. Sitting here with the feeling of a needle in his arm, not sure where he is or what he’s doing here, nothing to look at besides those Barbara Gordon freckles on the ceiling and those gray speckles on the tile.

He tugs on the restraints for what must be the thousandth time, and growls when nothing happens, as unsurprising it is. All his attempts to slip out of or break the restraints have left him with nothing but bruising and irritated skin. However, he feels so restless and bored out of his mind that tugging on the belts seems to be the only productive thing his brain can think of to do.

He tugs again, and nothing happens. He sighs. Relaxes back. And… tries to think of how he got into this mess.

It’s just as successful as breaking the straps.

-o-o-o-o-

“Okay, I’ll bite,” he calls out to nothing. His eyes hurt, he’s exhausted, he needs to pee and that’s something he doesn’t want to deal with. “What do you want from me, eh?”

Silence. His hands bunch in angry fists and he pulls against the straps hard enough for him to feel the edge bite into his skin.

“Batman’s identity?” He tries, because it’s always about Batman’s Identity (TM). When there isn’t any answer, he continues. “Police secrets?” Nothing. “Superman’s identity?”

Nothing. He growls and glares at the empty walls ahead of him.

-o-o-o-o-

He’s using the pain in his wrists, focusing on the warmth running down the cuts the straps have finally created, instead of the pressure in his bladder.

It only lasts so long.

Great, so now he’s bored out of his mind, stuck, and the room smells horrible. Or, the room smells horrible until whatever unseen vent takes away the reek and the chair dries, leaving him being the only one who’s smelling.

He hates this. He hates this. He hates this.

He jerks against every restraint and snarls in impatience and restlessness. He can feel the cuts tear more, but he’s close to not caring, he longs to move.

If his snarling eventually fades into howls, then he’s almost positive no one is around to hear it other than himself.

-o-o-o-o-

Bruce’s cape settles around his feet as he lands, launching droplets of questionable sewage water up to his knees. Damian lands beside him, the whites of his domino mask narrowed in fierce determination.

It’s been nothing but a series of long hours since the Riddler kidnapped Dick with the clues to his whereabouts left carved into the pavement with abandoned Wing-Dings. During Bruce’s search, a few things became apparent: Dick was trapped, alone, and Bruce had until Dick died from malnourishment once the crude IV he was apparently attached to ran out. Riddler is already behind bars, has been for several hours, but interrogation wont get him to give up his games, and Bruce may be a vigilante and “above the law”, but he wont stoop so low as to torture.

At least, not until things get desperate and Damian’s not around to see. Dick would never forgive Bruce, and will probably never talk to him even in any kind of afterlife.

But it hasn’t come to that, Tim solved the riddle through emails delivered from wherever he’s located with his Young Justice friends. They’re always changing spots, and even if Tim were to come home and solve the riddles in person, it would probably be too late.

It isn’t too late, he reminds himself as Damian takes off down the sewers. They know Dick’s exact coordinates. Bruce almost kicked himself when Tim revealed them, because of course lead to Gotham’s abandoned sewage system.

The way to Dick’s location is a tough one, one riddled (as Dick would say) with traps. But they’re nothing compared to a worried father and a determined brother. They find the door nudged neatly behind a section of brick, and when Bruce opens it he’s almost blinded by the night vision in his lenses adjusting to the sudden attacks of bright lights.

Bruce sees before he hears. His eyes were always one of his favorite senses, which is probably why Damian—a boy who’s had to hear to save his life many times—ran to the chair in the middle of the hexagon-shaped room before him. White walls, white tile, white LED’s to sit in a white ceiling. The back of a padded chair in the center of the room faces him, revealing nothing of what it contains.

And then Bruce hears the screaming. Weak, clawing screaming that sounds like what sandpaper would feel on dry skin. He knows this scream, the tones to it, and within moments he’s running to the front side of the chair with Damian.

Dick’s there… writhing. Blood stains skin and cloth around almost every strap holding him down from struggling that must have been continuing for hours. As Damian tears an IV—the tube feeding him nutrients disappears within the chair; there must be some sort of mechanism keeping it working within its structure—Dick’s struggles like he doesn’t notice the change. His eyes are squeezed shut, tears drip down his cheeks, and his screams are so so hard to listen to. Does he even know they’re here?

“Dick,” Bruce says, knowing there’s no one to hear him with Riddler behind bars and his goons scattered. Dick doesn’t respond, just continues to yowl like a wounded stray cat. Already, Bruce can see the symptoms of prolonged use of an IV and of exhaustion. Has Dick slept at all since being kidnapped?

Damian begins work on one of the straps around Dick’s jerking wrists. Bruce follows suit, quickly, desperately wanting to get his eldest out of here, but he’s forced to abandon his task when the loosened strap on Damian’s side allows Dick to tug his wrist free and move to hit the boy. Bruce catches his hand before the hit can be met.

“LET ME GO!” Dick screeches.

“Dick, we’re helping you,” Bruce shouts back wearily, but Dick doesn’t listen as he begins to babble all kinds of demands similar to let me go. Bruce gives Damian a look. “He’s exhausted and most likely delusional. Our best course of action would be for me to hold him down, and you undo the rest of the straps. Maybe we can get to him without having to risk drugging him once he’s no longer restrained.”

Damian looks all parts of his age as he takes a second to give a shockingly vulnerable stare Dick’s way. The vulnerability only lasts a moment before Damian’s nodding. “Got it.”

The next several minutes are filled with events that will reveal themselves in bruises with the coming days, even through the kevlar. It’s tough work keeping a Dick Grayson down, especially when it’s a Dick Grayson who absolutely refuses to be kept down in the first place. However, eventually they release the last strap around Dick’s other wrist and soon enough, both Bruce and Damian are jumping back and Dick launches himself out of the chair, stumbling to the floor and then falling to his ass when his knees give out. Dick looks pitiful, trapped between wanting to curl up and cry or stand up and run, yet curling up seems to win out as Dick must have no energy to lift himself back up.

“Dick,” Bruce calls again when Dick’s hoarse breathing calms, and this time, hope flutters into his belly when Dick’s shoulder’s tense in response.

“… B…?” comes a horribly weak response, but a response nonetheless. Bruce rushes around the damned chair to where his eldest still sits, curled up and shaking. He reaches out unconsciously, kneeling down to scoop Dick up in an embrace, but stops when Dick violently flinches away.

“Don’t touch me,” he whimpers, “just- I don’t- I couldn’t move-” he breaks into sobs.

Bruce is almost considering returning to Arkham and breaking a few bones. Instead, he lowers his voice and speaks as calmly as he can.

“I understand. But we have to get you back home. Just your arm around my shoulder, and I’ll support you while you walk. Can you do that?”

It’s proof of just how shaken Dick is when it takes a few moments to get a hesitant nod.

Bruce does his best to ignore Dick’s flinching and twitching while, with permission, Bruce helps Dick up and wraps his arm exactly where Bruce said he would. Damian stands a few paces off, looking torn. Bruce tells him to run ahead and bring the bat-mobile closer to the sewer opening while Dick blinks owlishly and gulps like a fish… doing his best to keep down what must be a pending panic attack. Damian thankfully leaves without much argument, and Bruce is left to help his eldest, hyperactive, always moving, always smiling, always stimming in some way or another son out the blasted room and towards freedom with as much control given over to Dick as possible.

“I scared Dami,” Dick whispers through clenched teeth, halfway through the sewage tunnels.

Bruce hums and resists tightening his grip on Dick’s arm. “It’s not your fault. He will not hold it against you.”

“I scared you.”

“… I was scared for you. But right now the only thing that matters is getting you home. Then everything can return to normal”

Dick nods his head, his voice choking in what must be another sob. “Okay,” he whispers, “okay.”

And Bruce silently vows to punch Riddler a little harder the next time he sees him.

But right now, the only thing he cares about is that Dick’s alive, and Bruce is bringing him home.

[cherrymiko-art]

Jason was very happy that he finally meet Dick senpai

you can tell by the small jump he made

also that fucking song is everywhere now i can’t resist it

[reallyneedmoresleep]

idc what anyone says, this is my new favorite show and I love it

[solace-under-the-moonlight]

Joke's on you

[jonathan-cranes-mistress-of-fear]

II know this isn’t Jonathan, but a mere dummy. And yet I really like this panel. The outfit design is peak Scarecrow.

Scarecrow: Year One || Scanned at 300dpi

[superhero--imagines]

A/N: I liked this request so much, I’m making it into a (short) series. Maybe three/four parts. This is mostly going to be a comedy, so feel free to leave any critiques you have in the comments! If you want to be tagged for the series just lmk!

You met Nightwing first. You were a hostage during a bank robbery that had gone bad. Not that you were worried, you were sure any second now a superhero would come bursting through that door to save the day.

This is the third time this week you’ve been inconvenienced by a villain. You pull out your textbook. All these villains are really starting to get in the way of your study schedule.

If you’re going to be stuck here for a while, you might as well catch up on studying for your test. You can’t have read more than ten pages when Nightwing comes bursting down from the ceiling.

Hooray, at long last your hero has arrived.

You’re about to pack up your things and get ready to leave when you notice someone’s holding a book out to you.It’s Nightwing in all his glory, scanning the cover of you book.

He looks younger than you had thought, in fact you can even see a few dots of acne on the sides of his face. He’s so close you can smell his aftershave too.

“Gotham university? Cool! I go th-“ suddenly his mouth clamors shut. “I-I mean, it’s really good to see more woman getting a good education and developing themselves” it’s a weird compliment, especially considering women in this city tend to be more educated than men considering the Wayne Foundation’s work. But you don’t want to make a big deal out of it.

“Thanks” You take your book back and head on your way. It’s only later that night when you’re about to wind down for the night finishing the chapter you started during the bank robbery, that you notice Nightwing autographed the cover

“What does he expect me to do? Tear of the cover and frame it?” You shake your head, but you can’t help but laugh. What a funny man.

You meet Dick Grayson shortly after. Well, meet is the wrong word. You’d say it was more like Dick Grayson met you.

You always knew of him, everyone did. He’s the school’s golden boy after all. All dimpled smiles, and shiny baby blue eyes, he had a legion of women trailing after him everywhere he went.

A golden boy who, for some reason chose to sit next to you in the 10 a.m lecture course, abandoning his usual spot surrounded by his fan girls.

You usually sit in the middle, not too close, and not to far. An inconspicuous place, for a person who doesn’t want to attract too much attention.

“Woah is that Nightwing‘s autograph?” The golden boy’s grinning as he looks at your text book. You can feel the eyes bore into you. “How did you get it?”

“I was a hostage in a bank robbery” the words leave your mouth in a monotone. It’s only after you’ve said it that you realize you have most of the classes attention now.

Right, inconspicuous.

“Are you okay? That must have been pretty rough.” Another classmate asks, her names Cassie or Cassandra or something. Almond shaped eyes bore into you as you shrug.

“Stuff like that happens all the time in Gotham, it isn’t that big of a deal”

Everyone in class thinks you’re super cool after that.

“Hey (Y/N), you wanna join our study group?” It’s a few of the girls from your class, Cassandra the girl from earlier, and a blonde name Stephanie. You know her name because she’s always getting called on by the professor for not paying attention.

You’ve seen them hanging out together before, and you found yourself a little jealous of their friendship. Maybe the three of you can be friends like that too.

“Sure”

The night air is warm, it’s hard to believe it will be fall in a few more weeks.

“This humidity is crazy” Dick says rubbing his neck.

It’s even harder to believe the golden boy is walking next to you too.

When you showed up at the apartment in the nicer part of campus, you weren’t expecting to see Dick open the door. You should have realized, of course Dick’s friends with the coolest girls on your class. And of course they host their study group out of his apartment. Being Bruce Wayne’s adopted son certainly comes with it perks. His apartment was so fancy, it had a chandelier in the foyer.

Still it was kinda fun. Though honestly calling it a “study group” was going too far. It was basically ten minutes of studying and two hours of chatting. Then all of a sudden Stephanie and Cassandra wanted snacks and alcohol. Frowning as they rummaged through Dick’s kitchen only to find cereal and milk.

And that’s how you ended up here, walking side by side with the golden boy himself. You’re walking on the outskirts of campus in the nicer part of town, heading towards the convenience store.

You’re not really sure why he had to come along, probably because it isn’t safe to walk alone so late at night.

“So you met Nightwing huh?” Dick says to break the awkward silence. You can’t help but raise an eyebrow. He’s weirdly obsessed with that hero.

“Yeah, why are you a fan?” You ask, you don’t miss the slight blush that forms on his face.

“Kinda yeah, what was he like?” His eyes are bright as he looks at you, the blush only creeping onto his face further. You think back, it was a brief encounter, you didn’t really think anything of it.

“He has acne” You can tell by the look on Dick’s face that wasn’t what he wanted to hear.

“Y-yeah and what’s wrong with that? It must be from stress, and it must be hard keeping a good diet when you’re fighting crime all the time.” Dick’s flustered. He’s getting awfully defensive for a complete stranger.

Suddenly it hits you like a lightening bolt. The golden boy had a crush on Nightwing. You totally get it, all those muscles in that skin tight suit, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little turned on yourself just thinking about it. You steal another glance of his blushing face. If anyone has a chance with Nightwing it’s Dick. Who wouldn’t be weak to that smile and charm? You totally ship it.

You place a hand on his shoulder, baby blue eyes meet your own. You’re looking at him with such serious eyes, he wonders if you’re going to tell him something reassuring about acne or how Nightwing is an an amazing hero.

“I support you.” You tell him with a thumbs up.

Richard has no idea what you’re talking about, but he doesn’t want to embarrass you.

Then all at once it hits him, like a lightening bolt. (The sane lightening bolt that struck you a few minutes prior) He must have given away that he’s Nightwing! You’re really smart, he’s noticed you’re name on the dean’s list almost every semester.

But how’d you figure it out?

His hand flutters to the side of his face, fingertips brushing over the few pimples that popped up last week. You must have realized who he was since the acne spot matched the place it was on Nightwing!

He stares at the thumbs up you gave him. this must be you showing support for his vigilante activities!

He feels his eyes water slightly as he nods. He’s always known you were a gentle and kind soul. But he can’t believe you’re supportive as well, he feels himself falling even further in love with you.

“Would you mind keeping it a secret?, it’s good to know I have a friend like you to support me but not everyone does, yknow?” You nod, he’s Bruce Wayne’s adopted son. It makes sense those old-money geezers have narrow minded views on love. They probably want him to be with a nice girl from a wealthy family.

It must have been so painful for him growing up, hiding who he really was. Wishing he could just be loved the way he is, but knowing deep down that there were parts of him those people would never accept. Your heart aches for him.

“Don’t worry, just follow your dreams, I’ll keep your secret!” There’s fire in your eyes, and Dick brushes away the tears that have formed in the corner of your eyes.

The two of you board the miscommunication train without another thought, walking side by side with completely different interpretations of the conversation you just shared.

You excuse yourself to the bathroom when you get back, after heaving two large bags of snacks onto the dining room table.

Stephanie looks at Dick expectantly when she hears the bathroom door shut.

“So how’d it go? Did you guys get closer?” She practically bouncing as a smile spreads across Dick’s face.

“You know, I think we did!” He’s practically beaming, his grin so wide it almost consumes his face. Stephanie lets out a squeal and Dick laughs.

Well you two are closer now, but not for the reason he thinks.

You’re washing your hands, taking in your reflection. You’re not really sure why, but you have this feeling that school’s going to get a lot more interesting now.