#nightwing x reader
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mellotunekitty · 2 days ago
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hey so how do you think the bat boys would deal with them messaging s/o or coming into their apartment late at night to come to bed and the boys are like “I can’t sleep. Can we talk?” and s/o messages back or says after sort of wake up “I can sleep” and they fall back asleep 😂. When s/o does properly wake up hours later, s/o pulls their man in for morning cuddle, but then their mind starts working and they ask seriously, “… did you want to talk about something last night or was I dreaming it?” Or for messaging, s/o remembers and gives their boyfriend a call and is happy to be talking to them and they ask the same question over the phone “I thought I dreamt it, but I just noticed you message me and I sent that back… I was exhausted and in a deep sleep. Did you still want to talk?”? Basically s/o isn’t very good to interact with or function when they’re tired 😂? (It’s all good people staying up all night for their love of their life, but what about a s/o who’s never able too?. They fall asleep in bed and then are woken up by their boyfriend sneaking in. They frequently pass out after their boyfriend sneaks into their bed. S/o Hair a mess. “What?… oh… zzzz” would be how the boys identity probably stayed a secret for the longest time. Wouldn’t even notice the blurry mask and spandex suits in their tired state).
omg yes, as a sleepy person, i LOVE this idea!!!
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Batboys x Sleepy gn!reader
Bruce Wayne
Being home late meant low chances of having an actual conversation with you. He needed help setting up the gala for tomorrow and you guys were supposed to plan it tonight
“My love, wake up for a minute. We have to set the plans, remember.” 
You sat up for a moment, sitting next to him in bed to help him. Unfortunately, that didn’t last long seeing as you almost immediately fell asleep on his shoulder. 
He just sighed and put his laptop away, figuring you guys could plan it later or just use what you had. 
It was a bit funny though, seeing you so out of it trying to stay awake and focus on the plans. 
“And I think we should serve lemonade with the… darling? Are you listening?” “Hm? Yeah…” 
Dick Grayson 
He usually came home to you sleeping after patrol, so he figured he’d have to wake you up if he wanted to discuss tomorrow's date plans.
“Babe? Hey, wake up, I gotta talk to you…” 
It works…for a few seconds. You woke up, but mumbled something incoherent before falling back asleep. 
Dick just chuckled and shrugged it off, figuring he could just talk to you in the morning. The date wasn’t until later anyway, and sleeping beside you seemed more appealing at the moment.
“It’s okay… I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Sweet dreams, sweetheart.” 
Jason Todd
Poor Jason couldn’t sleep at all. He tried everything from warm drinks to meditation, but nothing seemed to work. So, he called you. 
“Hey, y/n? Yeah, uhm… can I come over?” 
He got a half mumbled ‘yeah’ before heading over. Of course when he did, you were tucked in, all cute and sleepy. 
Jay slipped in next to you, snuggling against you and had the easiest time falling asleep. However, in the morning, you looked shocked, not remembering him coming in. 
“...when did you even get here?!” 
Tim Drake
It was always a 50/50 with Tim. Either he slept anytime, anywhere, or he couldn’t sleep at all. Tonight, he couldn’t sleep. So, he called you. 
“Hey, baby, I can’t sleep. Can we just uhh… talk for a while?” 
He got all warm and gushy when he heard your muffled little ‘yes’ from under your blankets. 
But he quickly realized you weren’t the best person to talk to when you were tired. You couldn’t hold a conversation at all and eventually, he found out that you sleep talk. It was a pleasant surprise to him.
“What are you saying now, hm?” “The banana… lost my hat.” “Oh, yeah, I bet.” 
Damian Wayne
The second you opened your eyes when he walked into the room as Robin, he thought he had completely blown his cover. Apparently, he didn’t. 
“Go back to bed… you don’t see anything.” 
He was shocked it actually worked, but he shouldn’t have been too surprised. He knew you’d take any and every opportunity to sleep. 
Damian hastily got out of his Robin suit and got into pajamas, sliding into bed next to you. It was a bit of a funny thought to him, the fact that you didn’t even question Robin being in your room… right? 
“I had a weird dream last night.” “About?” “I dreamt that Robin was in my room.”  
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weebumochi · 2 days ago
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HELLL YEAHHHHHHHHH I LOVE THIS SOSO MUCH OMGGGGGG U WRITE HIM AMAZING
Your new partner is Grayson.
He’s a weird guy.
Not necessarily a bad guy, but a weird one.
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He’s not cold, in fact he’s rather friendly. However, when you really consider it, he volunteered very little information on his personal life. Reasonable, you suppose. So long as he has your back in the field and gets his reports done, you don’t need to be best friends.
Your new partner Grayson is a recent Gotham transplant. You’d never personally been, but you weren’t oblivious to how utterly mad the city was. You could hardly blame him for getting out.
Your new partner Grayson, tenses up whenever someone mentions the Batman, or any of the nutcases he fights. You don’t pry.
You do your own research.
Your new partner Grayson watched his parents die. He’d been taken in by Gotham’s favourite son, a man he seemed reluctant to speak of. He’d had, and lost a brother, to the most deranged man Gotham, if not the world, had ever known.
You stop mentioning Gotham around him after that.
Your new partner Grayson is a weird guy, who seems constantly surprised whenever you demonstrate competency.
At first you’d suspected sexism. It wouldn’t have been your first partner to have that failing.
After a few days though, you catch him being equally surprised when officer Jackson makes a connection on a string of breaking and entries, and realise that perhaps he’s just not used to the cops not being utterly reliant on a very scary angsty furry and a small child without pants.
Your new partner, Grayson, is a weird guy, who disappears sometimes. Middle of a chase he’ll be gone, and you won’t see him again for sometimes as long as hours, before he’s back. More often than not, somehow through some insane luck, the perp will have been taken down by Bludhaven’s new vigilante, and tied to a lamppost for you to find. You both hated and envied his luck.
Your new partner Grayson was a weird guy… and he was a damn good cop.
He made connections like no one else. It was like he had some sort of sixth sense. You’d asked him once, about how he seemed to know all he did. How he seemed to have access to a whole other database of clues you just couldn’t see.
And he’d smiled that cheeky smile of his, and told you he’d been consulting an oracle.
Your new partner, Grayson, moves like nothing you’ve ever seen.
You’d initially attributed it to his past as an acrobat. The way he could simply parkour over and around anything in his way, run faster then he had any right to, chase down a perp like a bloodhound.
It was more than that though. You’d say without hesitation that if you were in a firefight, he’s who you’d want at your side. You must’ve owed him your life three times over by now. Even in those situations though, when no one would have blamed him for the use of lethal force, he never had.
You’d been pinned down by a smuggling ring. You, Grayson, and ten of them - all armed to the teeth.
He’d been incredible. Superhuman, almost.
Someone had shot out the lights. He’d told you one of the smugglers must have missed. You’d never once believed him.
Ten smugglers. You’d managed to knock out and cuff one, unwilling to risk taking a shot blind.
The other nine? Those had been your partner. He had them unconscious in a heap by the time your eyes had adjusted.
No bullet wounds. He’d done it hand to hand.
You didn’t know exactly what he was hiding, but you knew he was hiding something. You decided not to call him out on it. Not as long as you trusted that whatever he was using his … inexplicable skills for was good.
And trust you did.
Grayson was a good man. Even knowing little about him
Which was why this betrayal hurt so badly.
“Say again?”
You’d sat in relative silence in an unmarked police car for about half an hour on a stakeout, and Richard Grayson had just said the worst sentence you’d ever heard. You’d never been so utterly horrified.
“Peeps popcorn.” He says, holding up the tupperware containing an atrocious biohazard, grinning from ear to ear.
“One more time please?” you fight to keep up your faked anger, but fail in the face of that fucking smile.
Honestly, it should be some sort of crime to smile like that. Like everything would work out in the end, so long as you could keep him smiling at you.
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“Peeps. Popcorn.” He says it a third time. He’s trying and failing not to laugh at her, at the way her mouth twists and flails to maintain a frown.
He was tempted to tell her it was in vain. He’d broken Batman, and he’d make her smile too.
Honestly, she had such a pretty smile. Not that he’d say that, she was his partner, and they needed to keep things professional.
“It’s my turn to provide stakeout snacks, and so,” he lifts the lid of the peeps popcorn balls.
“Peeps popcorn.”
She rolls her eyes, and looks out the window of the passenger side. But she’s smiling. “It is one of life’s great injustices,” she huffs “that you can eat like that and maintain your… impressive physique.”
Dick feels his chest puff out a little. While he had been able to tell all along that she had a crush on him, but he’d never risk acting on it. Still, it felt nice to be complemented by her.
“Seriously, do you clock off and just do the ninja warrior course all night or something?” She muses, her head against the window, looking at him out of the side of her eye.
“Not exactly,” he replies, sitting back in his seat, bringing his foot up onto the cushion. “Try one.” he presses, poking her side with the container.
She takes one, rolling her eyes and nibbles at the neon cluster of popcorn.
“No. no.” she gags, “oh that's nasty. Oh, it's so sweet. Why? Why Grayson. Why would you do this to me?” she asks, setting the sticky concoction on the divider between their seats.
Dick just laughs “I am determined to make you a peeps convert.”
“Never, regular marshmallows are fine.”
“Peeps are rainbow.”
“How old are you?”
“There is no age too old to enjoy whimsy, Detective.” he responds, biting into his own.
“Besides, are you implying that rainbow marshmallows are irregular? In this day and age? Tut tut.”
“We are not making me out to be a homophobe over peeps!” she protests, still laughing, slightly taken aback at the audacity.
“If you say so.” he says, stretching his arms over his head and into the backseat. Stakeouts were terrible. He was not built to sit still in a confined space for hours at a time. However, this one provided a useful opportunity he cannot afford to waste.
Not to torment her with his war of attrition for peeps supremacy - though that was fun.
He needed to be sure of something else.
“Well. You being wrong about peeps aside. I … wanted to check back on a file from a few months ago. You uh… you didn’t move the Holt murder file, did you?”
“Holt.” she clicks her tongue in thought “the guy with…” she gestures to her chest.
“That's the guy.”
“Not knowingly. I haven’t had cause to reopen it. No new leads. I tried to track down the kid… He didn’t want a bar for me. Guess I can’t blame him. I offered the help I could… but well… the last time someone helped him his dad got brutally murdered. He’s staying in the tent city by the docks, best I can figure.” She seems to feel guilty as soon as she says it, but Dick doesn’t blame her.
He had paid for that room. If he hadn’t… who knows what might have happened?
“But if someone moved it?” he prompts, not wanting to dwell on that gnawing guilt.
“Wasn’t me.”
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Your new partner, Grayson, was a weird guy who ate strange and terrible foods.
He blames himself for what happened to poor Mr Holt. Because he was good to the core, and somehow that had led to something utterly twisted.
He’s also standing on your balcony. On the 20th floor.
And it all makes sense now.
Your apartment isn’t particularly nice. It was small, and frequently disorganised. Especially when you got overly invested in a case.
You’d been texted many gifs of the conspiracy board meme by friends over the years.
Work life balance? Not something you’d ever seen much value in.
And now, your unfairly attractive new partner Grayson was in your apartment, in full vigilante getup.
You need to find a way to be normal about that in ten seconds or less, because he’s staring at you, and you're staring at him, and it's starting to get awkward.
“Hello.” you eek out.
He greets you as Detective, followed by your first and last name.
Unusually formal, for him. Unless… unless he somehow thinks a few inches of fabric in the shape of a wingding is going to fool you.
Unless he thinks he’s got you hoodwinked.
“Nightwing… to what do I owe the pleasure?”
He leans in the doorframe, his hands braced against its top, so he is leaning into your space without touching you, and giving you plenty of ability to step back if you so chose. You don’t.
“I have reason to suspect there’s a serial killer moving though Bludhaven. And that whoever they are, they have someone in your precinct on the payroll.”
You fold your arms, bristling.
“Not sure I appreciate the accusation.” Sure, the bludhaven police department was ridiculously corrupted. But you’d hope that your partner would have at least the trust in you not to think you’d help a serial killer.
“No accusation.” he reassures “a request for help. I need someone I can trust inside the department. And my source says that’s you, sherlock.”
His source? Was he kidding?
No. No he wasn’t.
Oh this was madness.
This was hysterical.
He really, truly thinks that you can’t know him outside of his streetwear. And he’s trying to pass it off like he doesn’t know himself either.
Perhaps you should tell him you know.
But… Grayson and his peeps tomfoolery isn’t the only one who can have fun.
“So… you’re asking me to… what, exactly?” You prompt, unfolding your arms, willing to give him a chance.
Nightwing offers you a smile. It’s slightly different from Richard Graysons.
It’s just as sunny, and it makes you feel just as warm and fuzzy and giggly inside. You have to fight even harder to stop yourself blushing, given how much less this getup leaves to the imagination then his usual dress pants, shirt and tie.
But it’s a little more … brazzen. Flirtatious. More… cocky. Sure, He was always at least a bit of a show off, but as nightwing? He was one of the most capable, incredible people alive, and he wasn’t shy about it.
Oh, you were doomed. But that was a problem for later.
“I’m asking you to keep an eye on the ‘heartless’ case. Holt… he’s not the only one and I think there’s going to be more. And, to be blunt?”
He stands up straight, and puts an arm on your shoulder.
“It’s a big request. But you might be the only person in that station who I have real confidence in.”
You wonder what that says about his relationship with himself, but like so many things with Richard, you don’t ask.
“I can do that.”
“And I understand that it’s dange— I’m sorry, did you just agree?” he cuts himself off, staring at you.
You laugh then, just the once.
You owed him your life many times over as his partner. But as nightwing?
Since he’d come on the scene, you’d actually felt like something mattered. Like change could happen.
Like someone was willing to help the people of Bludhaven not to reap a profit, but because the system you’d once hoped to help restore was broken at its very core, and restoration wasn’t the solution - reformation and fundamental change was. And you didn’t know how to do that.
But then Nightwing had come onto the scene, and started kicking the asses of the worst of the worst, and you had felt like you had when you’d joined the force, bright eyed, bushy tailed, and determined to make a difference.
Before the incident. And every other day, when you’d felt that optimism slowly being crushed to death, into a fine powder and blown away in the wind.
“Yeah.” you say, and agreeing to help is one of the best feelings in the world. You get to help. To make a real difference.
“Bludhaven owes you a hell of a lot, Nightwing… seems like the least I can do is tell you if anything weird comes up.”
“Right. Thank you.” he clearly wasn’t expecting this. Maybe he’d thought it would be a harder sell.
“If I do… have anything for you, how should I alert you?”
He passes you a wingding. “Put this in your window. I’ll check in every few days.”
You raise an eyebrow “all your fancy tech and you don’t have a phone”
He shrugs “phones are traceable. Plausibly just something you picked up on a case as a trinket that you ‘forgot’ to log in evidence left on a windowsill? Lot harder to trace.”
“Fair.” you acknowledge.
“Besides.” he steps backwards onto your balcony once more “your place is on one of my main patrol routes. Can’t let anything happen to the best looking detective Blud’s got.”
You scoff, without any real offence. You know he’s only playing, and that he does, as Richard, respect your intellect more then your appearance - but you suppose as ‘nightwing’ he doesn’t know you that well.
“I think you mean best detective full stop.” you respond, and he gives a small bow of playful deference.
“But of course, sherlock.”
And then he’s gone.
That night, you don’t sleep.
You felt so stupid. He’s nightwing. He’s been nightwing the whole time.
The skills. The disappearing. The way he seemed to just… know things.
The way he tensed whenever someone mentioned Gotham.
… the timing of Robin reportedly becoming a child again.
Had your new partner, Grayson, been Robin?
Had he been using the Batman's archives to solve cases? Was that his so called oracle?
… wait.
Was Bruce Wayne the FUCKING BATMAN?
You screamed into your pillow. You were laying awake, face down in your bed, because now you had realised far too many things in one night.
The first: Your new partner is Nightwing.
The second: Bruce Wayne might be Batman.
The third: you, enchanted by that fucking perfect smile, had agreed to help track down a serial killer stealing hearts.
The fourth: Your new partner, Richard Grayson, between his stupid snacks, the Alfred Pennyworth foundation he’s been working to get off the ground, and his work as Nightwing, will save Bludhaven, you know it to your core.
And the fifth. The worst, and scariest part of your night: You may very well have fallen in love with him.
If you read this far, reblog?
Divider credit: @strangergraphics
Tag list:
@jasontoddproblems
@sunnie-angel
@stormz369
First time writing Dick! Feedback is welcome.
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mixingandmelting · 12 hours ago
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You Know Other Men Meme HC
Summary: when he gets randomly jealous while cuddling on the sofa and you tell him he’s the most jealous man you know feat. Dick, Jason, Tim, Duke, and Damian
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Dick
“You know other men?”
He’s offended. Shocked. Insulted. Disappointed. 
Like who are the other men??? There were other men???
Snaps his head up and looks at you with either eyes that can probably beat Batman’s when he’s angry or the saddest, puppies eyes you’ll ever see on the planet though the grip on your waist says otherwise
Starts questioning you who these “other men” are and goes from wanting their information including address to phone number to since when you started knowing them or where you met them
But when you tell him “I know only one man and it’s you”, he’ll quickly melt - getting all dopey with a silly smile on his face as he peppers kisses all over you
Cuddles into you more though asking for you to look at something else. If not, he’s going have to use a different method to get you to listen ; )
Jason
“Yeah and you better remember it.”
It’s not confidence in himself that makes him say it - rather, it’s knowing that you chose him and would always choose him over anyone else
Like, what is there to compete? All the other guys (cough Bruce and Dick cough) are already sucking it since he’s winning with having you, the best thing in his life
Plus, since you made him yours, you’re stuck with him for eternity whether you like it or not 
Does playfully pull you into a suffocating bear hug, enjoying the warmth of your body seeping into his
Chuckles if you play along and tap his biceps, shoulder, or chest, spouting “uncle”, “I lose”, or something that’ll show you surrender
Gives you a kiss on the lips or cheeks before going back to critic and rate whatever you were looking at earlier
Tim
“You do realize I’m the only man you know?”
Rolls his eyes and pretends your comment isn’t bothering him - after all, knowing you inside and out, there are no “other men” other than him
He’s awful at hiding it though when he starts to nuzzle into the junction where you neck meets your shoulder to hide his disgruntlement
Shuffles and pulls you closer to him, trying to “imprint” himself on you. Whether it’s conscious or subconscious that is yet to be decided
Play with his hair and tell him “yes and you’re the only man I also love” will earn a warm grin from him
That or him hiding his face into your shoulder with the tip of his ears burning red as his Red Robin suit
Either way the arms around you won’t loosen up for a while, going back to cuddling in his embrace. This time with him not minding what you’re looking at making a comment here and there, mostly jabbing at your taste
Duke
“I thought I was your man?”
He’s so confused by what you just said
What do you mean “most jealous man I know” - you know other men??? Is he not your only man???
Literally will start overthinking and confront you on whether you actually have starting seeing people behind his back
Has his head-up with an “excuse me?” written all over, needing to confirm you aren’t hiding anything based on your expression
Only to feel silly and embarrassed when you give him sass e.g., “are you not the only I’m dating?” or “do I look like I have another man besides you?”. Especially if your eyes are deadpan
Poor guy ends up hiding his face, becoming the smaller spoon. Dies but appreciates if you snuggle closer to him and pat him
Damian
“You know other men?”
Does the same thing as Dick but much angrier and more hissing
It’s going to take a while to calm him down especially when he’s ready to end things there and then with plans to also take down and ruin those “other men’s” lives
Listen. You are his and only his. How dare you have other men besides him???
When you tell him “you do realize you are the only person i’m dating?” that gets him to put the katana down
He’ll ask you who these “other men” are and realize they weren’t there from the start. Not when it’s his siblings and father
He just grumbles about how you should’ve said that from start and expect you to go back cuddling with him, head pats and all other expressions of affection to comfort him
Will succumb and completely “forgive” you if you give kiss on the top of his head 
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Reunion - Aftermath
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Masterlist
Pairing: Dick Grayson x (f)reader
Tags: slight NSFW, angst, toxic, you cant fix him, smut, grad school, halloween, Dick is the reader's friend's ex's best friend, reunion, oral, penetration, praise, heartbreak, heartbroken reader,
It took some time to get over your initial jealousy after seeing Dick with the girl at the bar. You excused yourself and left your things with your friends, then headed to the bathroom. You held it together surprisingly well, that is until you saw yourself in the mirror and let out a quiet sob.
Damn you. You fell for it again. Visions of that night replayed in your mind. His kind words, the gentleness of his hands on your body, of his lips on your neck, the way his eyes geld yours - it all meant nothing!
You wished you were a like that. Wished you could indulge in intimate activities without being emotionally attached or vulnerable. That you could just have fun and feel nothing the next day.
"Asshole," you cursed under your breath.
Your mascara was smudged at the sides, giving you away despite your attempts to calm your emotions. You ripped a couple of pieces of paper and tried your best to wipe off the tear smudged eyeliner and bring yourself back to normal.
A knock at the door interrupted your thoughts.
You sniffled, calling out, "Just a minute!" And collected your things.
Opening the door, you questioned if the universe was testing you today because you came face to face with the same girl you had just been mentally cursing. She was pretty, dressed in a simple sweater and skinny jeans, tucked into high leather boots. The outfit slapped. It actually mirrored yours, and you almost laughed at the thought that Dick had a type. Speaking of, he was right behind her, his face nuzzled between her ear and her shoulder as the couple giggled to each other.
His gaze registered you, and then a look of surprise took over his face. His smile dropped, and he straightened up, clearing his throat.
You blinked, partly in surprise, partly to clear a fresh wave of tears threatening to spill. Swallowing uncomfortably, you moved out of their way, pressing yourself against the wall in the narrow hallway and trying to escape.
"Honey," the girl took you gently by the wrist. You squeezed your eyes shut at hearing her kind voice. "Are you okay-"
"I'm fine, thanks." You rushed without meeting her gaze. Then you made a mistake. As you walked past Dick, your shoulder nudged his - more aggressively than it needed to, for a random stranger passing by.
You knew your evening was positively ruined. To avoid ruining the mood of your fellow interns, you offered them a made-up excuse about a headache and took your bag on your way out.
"Y/n," the last voice you wanted to hear right now called our behind you.
You didn't turn around, instead holding your eyes closed and sniffling quietly under your breath. "Why, god?"
"Y/n," Dick prompted behind you. "What happened?"
"Oh, shut up." You said, stopping yourself too late.
He paused in front of you, leaning back as if ti assess you. "You're mad at me..." He observed.
Too tired to argue, you took out your phone and checked the bus schedule.
"Why are you mad at me?" He asked.
What a stupid question. You glared up at him from your phone. "Dont you have a face to suck on in there?"
A knowing smile spread across his face, and he shook his head. "I see."
"Good for you." You snapped, murmuring to yourself, "Go after her." You said, feeling your cheeks heat in embarrassment and began walking towards the bus stop, grasping at your coat as you shivered.
"She can wait." He took you by your hand and turned you to face him, nearly dislocating your shoulder in the process. You tore your arm away, only to be backed up against the wall of the bar, caged in by his frame.
You lifted you chin, challenging him with your red eyed gaze. You sneered, "Aren't you worried she'll see us?"
"Not really." Dick gazed back at you with equal challenge. This close you could smell the mix of his skin with his cologne, a painful reminder of how close you let him get to you. "At least she knows the meaning of 'no-strings-attatched'."
"Oh yeah?" You shot back at him "Well at least -" Your shoulders rose and fell as you searched for a retort, only to come up empty-handed. "At least..."
Giving up, you felt your shoulders sag along with your gaze as you let out another sob you'd been holding back. You sniffled, too ashamed to meet his gaze.
Something in him shifted. The vision of you crying? He never saw that, nor had he wanted to see that again.
He let go of you, feeling his own shame rise in his throat. His voice lowered to an apologetic tone. "I'm sorry. That was... uncool. Had i known you would see us... I would never have done anything in front of you."
Shaking your head, you admitted between sniffles, "I wish I was like you."
His brow furrowed. "Why?"
"I wish I could..." He swallowed. "Not get attached."
"I don't... not get attached -" he attempted half heartedly.
"Please," you rolled your eyes, taking out a napkin to wipe them. "I'm still covering up hickeys you left two days ago -" You pulled down your turtleneck to demonstrate "-and you're already shmoozing with someone new."
"I..." He swallowed thickly, studying to purple marks on your neck. Ones he left there. They had even begun to fade. It was like he branded you. But now that brand was disappearing. That image summoned a possessive flash to course through him.
You noticed his expression shift. Nostrils flared as his breathing begame heavy, and his gaze was scorching, you could almost feel where his eyes looked on your neck.
Quickly, you covered back up, putting some distance between the two of you. You didn't know what that look meant, but you knew you were just going to end up sad again. "I have to go,"
"Wait," he said, you stood, waiting for him to speak. "This isn't right."
"What?"
He ran his hand through his hair, the action causing his leather jacket to lift, revealing the gun and handcuffs on the belt of his jeans. Your eyes narrowed. Was he out on the field today? Was that how he ended up in the bar?
"Damn it, y/n," he let out in a quiet frustration. "I dont like this, you being mad at me. Our night was good. It was fun. I didn't ever wanna see you hurt. Please believe me."
"I believe you." You said, grasping at the strap of your back.
He met your gaze, searching.
"I believe you." Air left your mouth in a cloud as you repeated yourself. And you did. Truly. You didn't think his actions were in any way deliberate to hurt you. That was just... the way he was. "I'll see you around."
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Yeah... he fucked up.
Not in his decision to have sex with you. That was great.
No, what he fucked up in was not picking up on the clues that you were not the kind of girl who had casual sex. The women he usually slept with were all looking for the same as him. No attachment, no feelings, just a good few rounds.
And you had him convinced. How early you got up and got dressed the next day, ready to leave quickly. You didn't even wake him up. So he'd assumed you two were on the same page.
He assumed wrong.
No, he had you all wrong. Back in sophomore year, you'd always carried yourself with nonchalance. You underreacred where others overreacted. You prefered to listen rather than speak. You always appeared so... conservative of your energy. That's what made seeing you cry for the first time, which is much more shocking. Dick felt like he'd ended years of inner peace.
What was worse is that that night when he brought home the girl from the bar, he'd closed his eyes, imagining he was with you he was in bed with.
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"Hey, I'm not like a... bad person, right?" He asked out loud, eyes wandering off behind his mask as he finished dragging a perps unconscious body to the corner of the hangar.
"Who cares?" His youngest brother, Damian, spoke into his comm unhelpfully. The kid had just started the eighth grade, and his voice began to drop. Sometimes, when he spoke over comms, Dick found himself asking who that was.
"What?" Jason asked behind his own mask a meter from him, kicking the limp body of another henchman.
"Where's this coming from?" Tim asked over the comm. He was currently on lookout on the warehouse roof. "Also, you got two perps coming into the warehouse - no, hold on, one."
"Copy that." Dick nodded. "And for the record, I care, you heard me, and -" Dick put up a gloved finger as he listed his answers, then shrugged. "Just curious."
"Nightwing," Jason sighed in annoyance. "There is nothing you could do that would make you a bad-"
Another henchmen ran in, just to be knocked out with a single punch from Nightwing.
"-person." Jason finished.
But Dick wasn't so sure.
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The morning rain poured against the gym’s windows as Dick landed another punch against the bag, harder than necessary. He gritted his teeth, trying to focus, on his stance, his core, anything except the remnants of that night that kept slipping into his mind.
The memories were relentless. Flashes of you beneath him, the feel of your skin on his hands, the way your breath hitched when he kissed a path along your collarbone - they crept in despite his efforts to shove them away. The warmth, the breathiness of your voice, the way you looked at him like he was more everything to you. He shook his head, forcing himself to snap out of it.
He threw another punch, this time more controlled, as if he could hit the memory right out of himself. But even now, he couldn’t ignore the way his stomach twisted, that irritating rush of excitement mixed with something he didn’t want to name. You’d thrown off his rhythm. All it took was a couple of tears. And he hated it.
Hell, he was Dick Grayson. He was supposed to have his heart compartmentalized by now - no strings, no lingering thoughts. Just one night and done. So why did the thought of you keep pulling at him, driving him back to those damn memories? It wasn’t like him to get distracted. Yet here he was, haunted by the way your lips had felt against his skin, the softness of your touch. Fuck.
A curse slipped from his mouth as he gave the bag one final hit, feeling the pain in his knuckles. He’d have to get over it, right? But no matter how many times he told himself he’d forget you, he knew the way you’d laughed, the way you’d looked at him like he was worth something real, had left its stupid mark.
Yeah, he fucked up.
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fablehaven-rulez · 1 day ago
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I love your writing so much, it was so worth waiting for this fic
Kinktober day 28
Dick Grayson + Markings (hickeys, bruises, tattoos)
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Insert that one dove meme that’s like “gazing lovingly at his gigantic angry wife” but its Dick and the Reader whos a former criminal. I eat up all size difference, so, big reader :3c.
I may have had tom hardy in the back of my mind during this.
2024 kinktober masterlist
Dick loved a lot of things about his lover, the list was way too long for him to state right then and there. Hell, he could probably go on for hours about how much he loved you. He loved your personality, how you always acted grumpy and mean, but you cared so much under all the walls you had to build during your life.
He loved how big your hands were, and how they dwarfed his, and Dick wasn’t a small guy either. He loved how some of your teeth were chipped or slightly crooked from how many fights you have been in, or that one of your ears if permanently bigger than the other because of fighting. He loved how you saved your smiles for him, your real smiles and not just the crooked smirks you gave others.
He loved your muscles and how big you were, well, everywhere. From height, to width, to just bulk in general. You may not be the most flexible, but Dick is flexible enough for the both of you, so you don’t need to bend your legs or arms too wildly when you guys are together.
And most importantly, he loved your tattoos. They were kinda cheesy, in your words anyways. They clearly screamed “I got these tattoos when I was 17 and started gangbanging”, at least the first ones you got did. The ones you got later on as well as coverups have a sense of taste, at the very least they look good on you.
Dick couldn’t forget about your strength either, and how easily you left bruises on him. His all-time favourite is the shape of your fingers on his hips, knowing how easily you could move him around, fold him in half or spread his legs until you got what you wanted.
It was against all his bat training, but Dick had started wanting tattoos too because of you, something he regularly whined about just because he could. Every time he saw you wandering around the apartment in your baggy basketball shorts, or worn thin sweats, muscular tattooed torso on display. Well, Dick always made sure to whistle and appreciate the sight a little, before he would slump against your back, grope your pecs and whine about the ink in your skin.
You didn’t care much about what he did, if Dick got tattoos or not. Part of you understood the whole identifying thing about it, having been caught by cops multiple times based on the fact that you had tattoos all the way up your neck. But if that’s what he wanted, then who was Batman to stop him.
Maybe you were a bad influence, as some part of Dick always wanted to defy Bruce in one way or another if he could get away with it. And its not like a little tattoo would be hard to hide or anything, he just needed to get it done a place that most people wouldn’t look.
You weren’t a real tattoo artist, having never gotten the title or anything. But you had done enough tattoos on yourself and others to know what’s up and how to care for them, so it should be no surprise when Dick wanted you to be the one to put the tattoo on him.
All you needed to do was sit back and wait for Dick to put the stencil on and lay down on the spot you prepared. You hadn’t expected him to choose your initials for his stencil, or for him to place it on his inner thighs, near the crevice where the thigh became his hips. It was a nice spot to hide it, sure, but it was also so close to his… everything. You had a feeling hed put it on his taint if he could, and part of you almost asked only to hold yourself back.
Instead, you two got to work, Dicks leg draped provocatively over one of your broad muscular shoulders, your love rubbing his foot up and down your shoulder blades as you did quick work of the tattoo. It wasn’t anything big or difficult, what distracted you the most was Dicks twitching and squirming, or the tiny huffs and hums he let out.
“What?” Dick huffed as you looked up at him with an unamused raised brow, seeing how hard he had gotten from something as small as a tattoo. “It’s a normal bodily reaction” your lover pouted, only for you to shake your head and stand up to clean up the things you used to tattoo him, as well as wash your hands.
“Its really not. But you aren’t normal babe” you grunt, shooting Dick another unamused look as you hear the slick noise of him touching himself. Vigilantes truly had crazy stamina from your experience, even if your experience was only Dick, but he got worked up so easily and never knew when to control himself when it was just you two.
“Really?” you snort out with an upwards pull at your lips, as you pat your hands dry on a towel. “You… take your shirt off” your partner demands, his voice a tone higher than usual as his hand works himself in quick short flicks, as Dick gropes at his pecs with the other.
“Oh? I’m a dancer now?” you jab, even if you don’t mean it to sound confrontational, taking your shirt off in the meantime. You didn’t need to do more than flex and stand there, Dick seemingly putting in all the effort as he worked himself into a panting groaning mess.
Having someone so attracted to you was always a bit of a humbling and flustering experience. You knew you were attractive to certain people, but that was mainly those people into the whole “big dangerous criminal” look you had going on, even if you didn’t mean too. But it never felt the same as what Dick seemed to see in you.
He just needed to see you to get off to you, hell, some days he didn’t even need to see you and thinking was enough. If you had left bruises and hickeys on him the days before, then Dick always just needed to press at them and think about you to push himself over the edge.
Some may call it unhealthy to be so obsessed with his own boyfriend, but Dick could care less. You treated him well, fucked him so good he cried in pleasure just thinking about it, and you loved him because you wanted too and not because someone ordered it, or you wanted to use him.
It did annoy you a little to see him cumming all over his own torso, abs flexing, and jaw clenched, right after you had just cleaned him up. At least he got none of it on his new tattoo, even if you feared the sweat he must have been producing would bother it.
“You just have to help me keep and eye on it” he snickers as you lift his leg to make sure everything is as it should be, and put a cover over it so it can heal a little before Dick can walk around with it. “You can help me with something else first” you snicker, easily picking Dick up and throwing him over one of your broad shoulders, your lover picking up on where you were going quickly.
And yeah, maybe tattooing your partner was hot, or maybe it was all the hickeys and bruises you left on him, or just the fact that Dick could get off just looking at your tattoo covered body flexing. But it had gotten blood pumping for you too, and maybe you couldn’t fuck him or his thighs for a while, but Dick always seemed more than willing to offer up his mouth or pecs.
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dehydrated-turtle · 2 days ago
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Vampire!Dick Grayson
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//warnings// +16, mdni, transmasc!reader
//a/n// I SHOULD HAVE POSTED THIS FOR HALLOWEEN UGH but anyway this spawned in my brain when i saw this post so thank them for this
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Vampire!Dick Grayson who actually loves to cuddle because you're warm. He loves to be little spoon, feeling your warmth emanate from your chest onto his back, he may be dead but he has to know that you're alive. he loves that he can feel himself getting warmer against you
Vampire!Dick Grayson who loves the fact that you're nipples stay hard under his touch because of his lean fingers being cold. rolling them perpetually in his grasp without them going soft, if anything they get harder.
Vampire!Dick Grayson who loves to nip at your skin. he won't actually suck your blood because he loves you too much but he will definitely leave bite marks, more often than he would leave hickeys. leaving his mark on your neck saying "my boy" in your ear as he fucks into you.
Vampire!Dick Grayson who can smell the blood when you're on your period and begs you to let him eat you out. he practically gave you a slideshow presentation on why he should, one of the reasons being it helps with cramps
Vampire!Dick Grayson who would drink the blood from your menstrual cup (if you use one) and help you take it out every night before eating you out on the edge of the bathtub to "help clean up", mhm sure
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your-local-simp-writers · 2 days ago
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Ghosts and S’mores
Word Count: 1743
Warnings: None
Dick Grayson x Fem! Reader ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
The pumpkin patch was a vibrant tapestry of fall colors, a lively spectacle filled with families and friends enjoying the crisp autumn air. As you and Dick wandered among the towering rows of pumpkins, laughter and chatter surrounded you, weaving a tapestry of joy that was infectious. The sweet scent of hay mingled with the spicy aroma of cinnamon from nearby stalls selling warm apple cider and baked goods. It was one of those perfect October afternoons that felt like a scene from a movie, and every moment felt imbued with magic.
Dick was clad in his favorite leather jacket, the one that seemed to radiate his effortless charm. His dark hair tousled in the gentle breeze, he flashed you a playful grin as he strolled beside you. “Look at this one!” he exclaimed, dropping to his knees beside a pumpkin that was surprisingly large and oddly shaped, with deep grooves and a slightly crooked stem. “This one’s perfect for carving! Just imagine the scariest jack-o’-lantern in Gotham with this bad boy!”
You laughed, shaking your head as you picked up a smaller pumpkin, perfectly round and smooth. “As much as I love your enthusiasm, I’m not sure Gotham is ready for a pumpkin that terrifying,” you teased, turning the smaller pumpkin in your hands, contemplating its carving potential. “I think we should aim for something a little more charming. You know, something that reflects our style.”
Dick stood up, brushing off his knees, and approached you, his mischievous glint unmistakable. “We should do matching costumes this year. How cute would that be?” he suggested, leaning in closer, the excitement in his voice palpable.
You raised an eyebrow, holding the pumpkin to your chest, feeling your heart warm at his enthusiasm. “Alright, Mr. Grayson, what are we dressing up as this year for Halloween?” you asked, a smile dancing on your lips.
Dick’s grin widened as he dropped his hands on his hips, striking a goofy pose. “How about this: I’ll be a graham cracker, and you’ll be a marshmallow! Together, we can be a s’more!” His laughter echoed in the air, infectious as he picked up a pumpkin and held it up to his face like a mask, the playful absurdity of the idea sending you into a fit of giggles.
You couldn’t help but laugh at his antics, shaking your head in disbelief. “I love you, I swear I do, but there’s no way I’m dressing up as a marshmallow. I have my dignity to think about!” You teased, though your heart danced at the thought of being a couple in matching costumes.
“Oh, come on! Just think of the photo ops!” he insisted, doing a little twirl with the pumpkin as if it were a trophy. “Imagine it—two adorable treats, making everyone else jealous with our cuteness!”
Rolling your eyes but unable to suppress your smile, you responded, “Fine, fine! But we have to come up with something better than that. You’re the horror movie expert. What do you think?”
Dick glanced at the pumpkins around you, mock-serious as he crossed his arms. “How about you dress up as Sidney Prescott and I’ll be Ghostface? I can totally pull off the scary vibe!” he suggested, his eyes sparkling with excitement.
You laughed, nodding in agreement. “That’s actually a great idea! I could even carry around a fake knife to chase you with!” The thought of him running away from you, feigning terror, made you giggle even more.
He feigned a look of horror, eyes wide and hands up in mock surrender. “You wouldn’t actually stab me, right? I’m your boyfriend, not your victim!” he exclaimed, stepping back dramatically, making you laugh even harder.
“Just saying, it depends on how convincing you are in your role!” you replied, your playful banter making the atmosphere even more cheerful. The two of you continued to explore the patch, debating over which pumpkins would serve best for carving.
After a bit more wandering, you finally settled on a pumpkin, holding it up triumphantly. “What do you think? This one has the perfect balance of cute and spooky!” you announced, turning it slightly to show off its unique shape and texture, your excitement bubbling over.
Dick nodded appreciatively, his gaze softening as he looked at you, then at the pumpkin. “I think it’s perfect! But if we’re doing Ghostface and Sidney, we have to go all out. I can’t just wear a mask and call it a day.”
You grinned at his determination, leading the way to the checkout area with your chosen pumpkin in tow. “Agreed! We should definitely take the time to make our costumes look awesome. This is going to be the Halloween to remember!”
Once you paid for your pumpkin, Dick insisted on carrying it back to the car. “This baby is all mine! I’ll guard it with my life,” he joked, cradling the pumpkin like a precious trophy. As you made your way to the car, the sunlight bathed everything in a warm golden glow, and you couldn’t help but glance at him, feeling your heart swell.
Later that evening, you found yourselves in your cozy kitchen, the soft glow of fairy lights illuminating the space and creating an inviting ambiance. You spread newspapers across the table, lighting pumpkin spice candles that filled the air with a comforting scent, crafting an atmosphere perfect for a cozy night in. Dick set the pumpkin down with exaggerated care before turning to you with a playful gleam in his eye.
“Alright, I’ll get the carving tools!” he declared, bounding to the kitchen drawer. You watched him rummage through the utensils, his enthusiasm contagious. As he turned back with a small carving knife and a spoon, he struck a dramatic pose. “Prepare to be amazed by my pumpkin artistry!”
You leaned against the counter, watching him work, the way his brow furrowed in concentration making your heart flutter. “Just don’t mess it up too badly. We need to impress the other partygoers,” you said, a teasing lilt to your voice.
“Mess it up? Please!” he scoffed, pretending to be offended. “I’m the king of pumpkin carving! This pumpkin is going to be the talk of the party.”
You smiled, moving to your own pumpkin as he continued to sketch his design, a mix of horror and humor. The rhythmic sound of carving filled the kitchen, punctuated by laughter and playful jabs at each other's artistic choices. You shared stories about past Halloweens, recalling funny moments and childhood costumes, the atmosphere light and filled with joy.
“I remember one year, I tried to be a vampire but ended up looking like I had a bad case of toothpaste on my face,” you said, laughing as you recalled the memory. “My mom still has pictures of me, and it’s one of the most embarrassing things ever!”
Dick burst out laughing, putting down his carving knife to clutch his stomach. “That’s too good! I can’t wait to see that picture! I can totally picture you with a little cape and fangs that are too big for your mouth,” he teased, moving closer to get a better look at your pumpkin.
“Shut up! I was only eight! I thought I looked cool!” you retorted, trying to sound indignant but failing miserably. His laughter was infectious, and soon you found yourself laughing along.
“Okay, but let’s be honest. You were probably the cutest vampire ever,” he said, leaning in closer to inspect your work. “And I’m not sure what’s scarier: my pumpkin or the thought of you with a cape.”
You felt your cheeks heat up at his compliment, a flutter in your stomach as he leaned in to examine your pumpkin closely. “Thanks! I’m going for spooky-cute, you know? The perfect balance,” you said, focusing on carving the jagged smile.
After a bit more back-and-forth, you both paused to admire each other’s work. Your pumpkin had turned out beautifully, the jagged smile and piercing eyes giving it a menacing yet charming look, while Dick’s creation was… well, unique, to say the least. It featured a goofy, lopsided grin that was more silly than scary, and you couldn’t help but burst into laughter.
“I think yours might scare off all the trick-or-treaters!” you teased, pointing at his pumpkin. “It looks like it just got done running a marathon!”
Dick chuckled, feigning a pout as he crossed his arms. “Excuse me, but that’s exactly what I was going for! The ‘scary but adorable’ vibe.” He gestured grandly toward his pumpkin. “This little guy is going to steal the show!”
You shook your head, still grinning, but then your expression softened as you looked at him, your heart swelling with warmth. “Honestly, I love it. It’s so you—full of fun and unexpected charm.”
His gaze met yours, the playful energy shifting into something more intimate. “And I love you,” he said softly, moving a little closer, his expression sincere. “I love how you make everything more fun. You’re the one who keeps me grounded, even when I’m pretending to be a horror icon.”
Your cheeks flushed at his words, and you leaned in closer, playfully nudging him with your shoulder. “Well, I’m glad to keep you on your toes. Just remember, I’m still the one chasing you down at the party!”
“Only if you promise to keep it PG-13,” he said with a laugh, leaning back against the kitchen counter, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “I’d like to leave some mystery for the next Halloween party, after all.”
With the room filled with laughter and love, you both settled into a rhythm, finishing up the carving and lighting candles to place inside the pumpkins. The flickering flames illuminated the room, casting playful shadows and filling the kitchen with the warm, cozy glow that made everything feel perfect.
You admired your handiwork, the warmth of the candles reflected in Dick’s eyes, and you couldn’t help but smile. “I think we make a pretty great team, don’t you?”
He nodded, a soft smile playing on his lips. “Definitely. Here’s to many more adventures and memories together. I wouldn’t want to do this with anyone else.”
You both leaned in closer, sharing a gentle kiss, the world outside fading away as the glow of the pumpkins surrounded you in a cocoon of warmth and love. In that moment, everything felt perfect, the bond between you deepening as you embraced the spirit of Halloween together.
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delusionsofgrandeur13 · 6 hours ago
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Omg I love the bf instagram pages, can you please do one for Dick Grayson if it’s not already in the works?
oh trust.. (he’s my fave)
(…….so he got a few more posts sorry not sorry)
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your boyfriend, dick grayson’s instagram
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taking requests!
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three-unspoken-words · 2 days ago
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It’s easy to realise that they’re not good for you anymore. The life and energy they use to give you with every interaction now switching to simply draining you.
It takes a lot of courage to step away from the situation. Despite how painful it is.
You have to acknowledge that the longer you hold on. The deeper the wound will become.
Let go of them now and let yourself heal.
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pricetagofficial · 2 days ago
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The Little Merman -D.G. Part Four
Warnings: Language, some angst, heartbreak, I didn't really proof this so Im sure there are errors but I don't care, Dick is an absolute dork
Masterlist
Pairing: Merman!Dick Grayson x Reader
Word Count: 3.4K
A/N: Hello it's me, ya girl. I've had this written for a while but I finished this part not too long ago and so I decided to post it. It's been a long few days for me, with tornados and shit but I'm all good and everything is good. Big thanks to @offendedfishnoises for helping meeeeee
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The next morning when Dick woke, he felt lighter than air. Having spent the day with you yesterday, it put him in a really good mood. His heart was aflutter and all he wanted to do was stare at the ceiling above him as his thoughts were plagued by your smile and laughter. 
The sheets were comfortable, and he never wanted to leave them but eventually, he would have to. He only had one more day left with you, his time was running short. 
Running a hand through his hair, Dick looked around and saw Alfred asleep on the pillow next to him. Even when he was being ridiculous, Alfred still stayed by his side. As he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, Dick slowly sat up and looked out the window. 
The sun was rising beautifully above the horizon, dusting the sky in shades of orange, blue and yellow. Today would be the day, Dick had to get you to kiss him. He didn’t want to think about what would happen if he didn’t. The thought made a shiver run down his spine. 
Roy didn’t show up at all this morning, neither did Kyle or Victor, to help him out. Maybe they all were busy with their duties, they were your royal guards after all. It was a good thing Dick learned to dress himself, if he was going to stay a human he would have to learn eventually. 
Pulling on the boots provided for him, Dick slipped Alfred who had woken not that long ago and gave him pointers on how to fix his shirt. 
“Now Master Richard, remember. You need to be patient, Y/N is still a young lady and there are rules for her to abide by.” 
Dick nodded absentmindedly, listening but not really listening to what he was saying. The only thing that was on his mind was getting to see you again. 
Walking down the hall with a spring in his step, Dick heard voices mutter around him even giving him an odd look, but he paid no mind to it. 
Dick searched for you in the library, the kitchen and even tried knocking on your bedroom door, to no avail. When he checked your study, Dick knew something was off. Those were your favorite places, so where were you? 
Hearing voices down the hall in the foyer, Dick’s face broke into a smile as he made his way to the stairs. You had to be there with everyone else. 
As he got closer, Dick heard your voice and that spurred him to go faster. His heart was already beating wildly, just from the mere thought of getting to see you. 
It was when he turned the corner and stood at the top of the staircase when he saw it, or rather him. 
You were in the foyer, with Roy, Kyle and Victor that much was true. But someone else was with you, someone who looked suspiciously familiar. But that wasn’t what made his stomach drop to the floor. 
It was the way you were looking at him, like he held the world in the palm of his hand as the man towered over your smaller form. Your chin was held between his finger and thumb as he brushed your bottom lip ever so softly, and a charismatic grin on his face. 
“Who’d have thought it’d be love at first sight?” the man grinned, pulling you closer by the waist making your hands rest on his solid chest. 
Love? 
No, that couldn’t be it. Dick was sure you loved him, you had to! But, everything about what he was seeing told him the opposite. Was he nothing more than just something to pass the time? A charity case for you to take in? 
“I felt something pull me to the beach, and there you were.” you sighed dreamily, “I’m glad I made it when I did.” 
“Me too,” 
What happened next made Dick’s heart shatter into a million pieces. If he listened close enough, he could hear the crack as it did. He watched with watery eyes as the man tilted your head up further and pulled you into a kiss. 
Not able to watch more, Dick held back his sobs before turning and running back down the hallway. How could he have been so stupid? Wiping the tears threatening to spill, Dick ran to his room and slammed the door only to fall to his knees letting out a defeated sob. 
He was wrong, he was wrong about everything. You never loved him, and Dick was a fool for thinking you did. Now, he had to live with the mistakes he made. It was a mistake to take Slade up on the deal, it was a mistake coming here, and it was a mistake to follow his heart. 
If he had just stayed home and had gotten married like Bruce wanted, maybe then he’d be spared the worst heartbreak he’s ever felt in his life. 
Alfred looked at Dick with a heavy heart, after all he had given up for something he was so sure about, to see you in the arms of another man broke his heart. Something wasn’t adding up, after seeing the two of you together the night before, Alfred was almost convinced himself that it was genuine. 
He needed to figure this out. 
As much as he wanted to stay and comfort Dick, he needed to find the truth. 
Quietly, he sidestepped under the door and made his way down the hall. Following the sound of voices, Alfred made his way back to the foyer and watched as you and the mysterious man disappeared through the doors to the dining hall, with Roy, Kyle and Victor staying behind. 
“What the hell was that?” Victor asked, looking between his two friends. 
Kyle only shrugged, “You’ve got me, last I checked she was making googly eyes at Dick. I don’t even know who this guy is, do either of you?” 
Victor shook his head again, before looking at Roy. 
“What do you know?” 
Alfred moved closer, eager to hear more. 
Roy ran a hand through his hair, and let out a sigh. “I have no idea. I talked to her last night, and she made no mention of this new guy, Bruce or whatever his name was. I–” he sighed again. “I was convinced she was going to–” 
His voice trailed off, as he looked towards the door to the dining hall. “Whatever is going on, I don’t like it and I definitely do not like the new guy.” 
“What are we going to do with our friend upstairs? Do you think he knows about this?” 
Roy shook his head, “We can’t let him find out, it would break the poor guy's heart.” 
Alfred shook his head, it was too late for that. 
“Before we do anything, we need to find out more about Bruce. Who he is, where he is from, and see if there are any discrepancies in his story.” 
Kyle and Victor both nodded, Alfred agreeing with their plan. Good thing he was small, and could hide easily. Watching the three guards divy out jobs, they all went their separate ways.
Before he went down the steps, the doors to the dining hall opened and out you came with Bruce on your arm. Giving you a kiss, Alfred watched as he muttered something in your ear that made you fluster before he made his way up the stairs alone. 
Hiding behind a pillar, Alfred watched as he made his way down the hall almost swaggering in his walk. Following behind as quick as he could so he didn’t get lost, Alfred managed to keep up and slip his way through the bedroom door he disappeared behind. 
What surprised Alfred was seeing young Terra waiting in the room. Slipping behind a vase, Alfred stayed out of sight. 
“When you said you would be coming here, this wasn’t what I expected, Slade.”
Alfred’s eyes widened, Slade followed them to the surface world? But how would he know when and where to go? Was Terra working with him the entire time?
“You should know by now that I always follow through with my plans, and deals, kid.” 
Terra narrowed her eyes. “Now that you’re here, what is your plan with Y/N?” 
“Since you failed me with that bad luck potion, I decided to change up my plans. Instead of getting one kingdom when princey boy fails to get that kiss, I can still marry that princess brat and get the literal keys to this place. Then I can get rid of those brats and good old Bruce, and then there would be no one around to stop me.” 
Alfred watched the look on Terra’s face, she looked conflicted. 
“What are you going to do to them?” 
Slade casted Terra a side look as he looked at himself in the mirror, “What’s it to you? I’m not the one who sold out my only friend to a sea demon for revenge.” 
Terra clenched her fists, giving Slade a dirty look. 
“Listen, all I’m saying is that if you want to stick around, I suggest you stay out of my way.” With that, Slade slicked his hair back once more and stepped out of the room, leaving Alfred and Terra alone in the room. 
Everything made sense, Alfred knew Slade was up to something. Why else would he give a deal like that to Dick, when there was a possible chance he’d uphold his end? He had to find a way out of here so he could warn Dick, and get him that kiss and save not only his kingdom, but this one as well. 
Looking around, Terra seemed to be out of sight so Alfred made his move. Creeping out from behind his hiding place, he quietly made his way to the window. Climbing up the bed, and to the windowsill, Alfred could see a clear path into a neighboring window that would get him back on track. 
Before he could make a move, a hand grabbed Alfred and turned him around. 
Terra looked at him with a skeptical look, “Looks like we have a little spy.” 
Alfred stayed still, trying to play dumb crab. It seemed Terra didn’t fall for it. 
“I know what the advisor to the king looks like, and it seems he was spying.” she hissed. Alfred wiggled to get out of her grip. “Master Bruce will stop you, and you will not lay a hand on Master Richard!” 
Terra rolled her eyes and placed him under a cup on the dresser, “We’ll see about that.” Placing a heavy book on top of the cup, Terra fixed her appearance before opening the door. 
“You should know when you’ve lost, after sundown today it won’t matter what you do.” 
With that, she disappeared. 
Alfred hit his claws on the dresser. Now how was he going to get out of this? Dick needed his help, and he was currently stuck. Taking a look around the room, his options were limited; not only was he trapped in a glass but there was a massive book on top of it. 
Running into the side of it, his little crab body only bounced off the glass before he plopped back onto the wood. So that wasn’t going to work it seemed. 
Lifting his claws, Alfred began hitting the glass hoping to make enough noise or break the glass even. Time was running out, with the new knowledge of Slade and his involvement things were getting complicated. 
After what felt like forever, Alfred let out a sigh of defeat. He was truly stuck, and no one knew where he was. Dick was still in his room to his knowledge and no one else was aware of a talking crab that didn’t trap him. 
“What a mess this has turned out to be,” he sighed. 
No sooner did he speak those words, there was a flap in the air and he turned to see a seagull wander its way in through the open window. This gave Alfred an idea. 
Waving his claws in the air, he jumped and shouted trying to get the bird’s attention. 
“Hey! Hey you!” he shouted, banging on the glass. “Look at the tasty red crab!” 
Alfred watched as the bird’s head twitched, watching him dance around. “Come and get me!” 
The seagull paused for a moment before it flew towards Alfred, and as it came into contact with the glass and book Alfred ducked hoping to avoid its claws and beak. 
There was a crash, and Alfred was suddenly on the ground watching as the seagull panicked, flying around the room in circles before it finally found its way out of the window once again. 
Letting out a breath, Alfred relaxed before making his way towards the door. Scrunching in his shell halfway, he slid under the door and quickly made his way down the hallway. He had to get to Dick, and he had to tell him what was going on before it was too late. 
Squeezing his way under the door, Alfred saw Dick sat on his bed as he stared out the window. His eyes were red and puffy, cheeks tear stained from what seemed to be hours of sobbing at the thought of his unrequited love. 
Dick was a fool, thinking a girl like you would ever love him. 
“Master Richard,” Alfred started. “Things may not be the way they seem.” 
Dick slowly turned to look at the little crab, hoping his expression gave off the words he couldn’t speak. If he was going to try and tell him that things  could still go in his favor, Dick would have to refuse. He saw you kiss that man with his own eyes, and he knew Alfred did too. 
“I think our Lady Y/N has been put under a spell.” 
Dick turned his head away, refusing to listen. He couldn’t give himself any more hope, hope that you could still love him in return. 
“Didn’t that man look familiar to you at all? To make matters worse, I heard the lady-in-waiting talking to him and they confirmed it for me.” 
Dick still refused to look. 
Alfred was not going to continue putting up with this. Banging his larger claw against the ground, Alfred huffed and crawled his way up the bed and sat on the window ledge in Dick’s view. 
“Master Richard, I did not almost get eaten by a seagull for you to sit here and sulk about a lovely woman who is in love with you. Slade wouldn’t have to play dirty and use magic if he thought you were going to fail.” 
Dick’s attention finally turned to Alfred. 
“You are going to break that spell, and you are going to get your happy ending.” 
Alfred could already hear the words on the young master’s mind. 
“You and I both know that Slade is playing dirty to prevent you from getting that kiss. So we need to pull a page from his book and make sure you get your happy ending.” 
Dick wasn’t sure what to think, he was a little apprehensive. Slade was evil and twisted, and doing things the way he did was never good. But he was about to lose you to him, and he wasn’t going down without a fight. 
Sitting up, he wiped his eyes and looked at the crab in front of him. 
“To start, we need to get the rest of the guard on our side. From what I heard, they already are. I believe Master Roy will be a good place to start.” 
Dick nodded again, rising to his feet and straightening out his shirt. He had to find Roy and somehow convince him that he was not only human, but that a sea monster was trying to marry you to take over the land and sea. 
Seemed easy enough, if he could talk that is. 
Picking up Alfred, Dick set him on his shoulder and made his way down the stairs. This was his only chance, not only to help you but to prevent everything from falling into the hands of the wrong person. 
It didn’t take long for Dick and Alfred to find Roy, catching him on one of the balconies watching you and Slade promenade through the gardens. 
Roy was watching from afar, cause he didn’t like this new guy at all. Something felt very wrong about him, like every word out of his mouth was crafted to try and lure him into a spell. Roy knew magic existed in their world, he just never thought it would be used in such horrible ways.
Hearing shuffling behind him, Roy turned to see Dick there with a suspicious looking crab on his shoulder. 
“Oh, Dick. How can I help you?” he asked, trying to hide the scene below with his body. 
Gesturing him closer, Roy raised a brow and followed Dick to a private corner. “What’s going on?” 
Alfred nudged his chin, “You must describe Slade to him, he won’t understand me. You have to do this yourself Master Richard.” 
Letting out an exasperated huff, Dick motioned to his eye and covered it up. 
Roy just stared at him, confused. “You’re a pirate?” 
This was going to be a lot harder than Dick thought. 
After what felt like hours, Dick with Alfred’s coaching had given Roy a small grasp at the situation. 
Roy watched as Dick once again gestured to the crab on his shoulder, before making a sawing motion with his hands. He then followed up with the sign they created for this new guy, Spade, or something, as he pretended to be a pirate with a sword. 
“Your crab saw Spade,” he recounted. 
Dick nodded, before waving his hand as if he was casting a spell and then made the motion for girl. Spade wasn’t entirely correct, but Dick didn’t want to put in the extra effort to get the right sounds for the monster’s name.
“Cast a spell on a girl, Y/N?” he paused. 
Dick nodded again, before waving his arms around like an octopus. 
“Because he likes to dance?” 
Dick shook his head, he held up eight fingers before pointing at his legs. 
“Eight legs? What the hell does that mean? The man’s an octopus or something?” 
Roy jumped back seeing how excited Dick was that he guessed it right. “How do you know that he is an octopus, or that your crab can talk unless–” 
Dick nodded quickly, before pointing out the window to the sea and then to himself. Was Roy finally getting the hang of it? If he could just get him to figure this out, so many issues could be solved. 
“Unless you’re from the ocean too,” he concluded, his eyes going wide. “But that would mean you’re a–” 
Again, Dick nodded, getting excited. He was so close, so close to someone knowing the truth. There was no way he could stop Slade on his own, and Bruce was too far to get help from in a timely manner.
“Wait, are you the one she kept meeting out in the middle of nowhere?” 
Roy chuckled at the thumbs up. “Well, that explains a lot actually. But why can’t you talk? Y/N said you would tell her stories.” 
Dick made the sign for Slade again, before pretending to rip out his voice box. 
“Spade cut your throat? No, you’d be dead. He took… he took your voice?” 
Dick was about to cry, someone finally understood him and knew the truth and it only took an hour of their day. 
“So we have to find a way to stop the wedding, and that will help you somehow get your voice back?” 
With another enthusiastic nod, Dick smiled. 
“Alright, sounds like a plan. But we really need to teach you how to read and write English, not merperson.” 
Even Alfred couldn’t hide his laughter at that one. 
Even though Roy couldn’t understand him, he knew the crab was laughing too. 
“Alright, let’s find a way to stop the wedding.” 
Roy and Dick turned to head down the hall when they were stopped by Victor, Kyle and several other members of the guard. 
“You two aren’t going anywhere,” Victor kept a hand on the hilt of his sword, and watched the two of them. 
Immediately, Roy and Dick could see that something was wrong with them. They had a hazy look to their eyes, and almost a sickly look to their skin. If either of them had to guess, Slade spelled them too. 
“Aw come on, Vic? Why not?” 
“We are under order from Master Slade to keep the two of you away from Y/N at all costs.” 
Roy and Dick shared a look, “Well, I guess this complicates things.” 
TAGS: @niggxrette @littleredwing89 @offendedfishnoises @bluejay-the-geek @udiudijaye @restwellsoon
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devotedlyandrogynousyouth · 9 hours ago
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BestFriend! Richard Grayson
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Bestfriend! Richard Grayson who's always there to talk on those lonely nights where you just need somebody with you after a long day of work. His voice is just so comforting and he almost always has something useful to say or put into the conversation.
Bestfriend! Richard Grayson who's always your shoulder to cry on whenever you get dumped or stold up on a date. The way his hands move across your back as you cry into his chest honestly feels more useful than your therapist, sometimes.
Bestfriend! Richard Grayson who takes you out on friend dates as often as he can because you desperately need to get out of the house. He would buy you a $300 steak, if it made you happy and like the person he grew up with in high school.
Bestfriend! Richard Grayson who sees how stressed you are almost every day and just wants to make it better. To be fair, his massages are the best and far better than any masoose you could book (especially on your salary).
Bestfriend! Richard Grayson who calls you a petname out of the blue as you rest your head against his shoulder. The movie in the background had honestly faded into white noise as you let yourself drift off, nuzzled into his side.
"Dont go falling asleep on me, sweetheart. I won't be able to make myself move to go out on patrol tonight."
His tone is joking, of couse but it makes your cheeks heat up, nonetheless.
Bestfriend! Richard Grayson who lets his hands wander across your thighs while he massages your sore hips from walking around at work all day.
Bestfriend! Richard Grayson who doesn't even noticr how his hands wander right in between your legs, rubbing softly at your sensitive nub through the layers of your shorts and panties.
"Dick-"
"Shh... Just let me take care of you. You said your muscles were all tight from work, right?"
Bestfriend! Richard Grayson who absolutely goes to town as soon as you give him the go ahead to have a small taste of you. And, god, does he eat like a starved man having his first meal.
"Taste so good, pretty girl..." He mutters through the obscene sounds of him practically making out with your pussy, tongue delving into crevices you could never reach by yourself.
Bestfriend! Richard Grayson who is getting off on your taste alone, rutting his hard on into the plushy cushions of the couch for an ounce of relief but won't ask for help, since you were far more stressed and pent up than him.
Bestfriend! Richard Grayson who doesn't immediately agree when you ask to return the favor, but eventually gives in to your begging. He absolutely loses it as soon as your tongue trails overntue dark vein on the underside of his flushed, leaky cock.
"Oh, fuck-" he cuts himself off with a soft groan as soon as you hollow your cheeks around him. "So good... You're so fucking good for me." He's a babbling mess as you suck him off, trying as hard as he can not to blow it early like a horny prom date.
God, does he love it when you eventually swallow down all of his pearly ropes of cum.
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redr0sewrites · 2 hours ago
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THIS IS SO AMAZING I AM SCREEEEEEECHINGGGG THE WAY U CHARACTERIZE HIM IS TOP TIER AUDGSJDGDHD
False Accusations (You know I KNOW right? Chapter Two)
Let me first say thank you for all the kind reception part one received. It was … a surprise, and a welcome one.
Also, a massive thank you to @sunnie-angel for beta reading. If you haven’t read their work… Do yourself a favor and check out their masterlist!
This Chapter takes place over a few days in two mini stories., and I would appreciate being told if at any point this causes confusion. Currently how I’ve done it is as tilted segments. Content warning: this chapter has themes of sexual harassment in the workplace up to the point of groping (from an OC), and corruption. Proceed with caution. Be safe.
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The morning after. You are going to murder your partner, Grayson. Perhaps with a gun. Maybe your own two hands. Or maybe you just need coffee.
It's probably the coffee thing. Coffee, then you’ll decide if you're going to kill him and how. As you sit at your table, surrounded by notes you’d made at 4am, the urge to throttle Grayson slowly subsides. You hadn’t slept a wink. You’d had a weird night. But if you were going to do this, help him find this killer… you’d need a plan for if it all goes to hell. A diversion. A plan so that if you’re made, maybe the killer will think you’re on the wrong track. A dummy investigation. But simultaneously one that you won’t overthink, so that you can devote your time and brainpower to the truth. Luckily for you, you have the perfect person to pretend to accuse. After all, your partner, Grayson, is an incredibly weird guy. 8:55 am finds you walking into the station sipping your third coffee of the morning, only to find Grayson sat at his desk. Shirt pressed, tie perfect, hair shampoo commercial glamourous yet slightly messy. The urge to murder your partner returns, just a little. How dare he be so… normal? So unaffected? How dare this man fight crime by night, and be smiling at you as he is now, chipper and bright and perfect, before 9am? The nerve. Maybe you could hit him with a patrol car and claim it was an accident. “Morning detective… Long night?”
Oh.. This fucker. Your partner, Grayson, is the most annoying man alive. You hate how badly you have to fight the urge to grin at the sheer audacity.
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She looks exhausted, the poor thing. Dick remembered the feeling, but at some point he’d adapted to running on less sleep than was by any means reasonable. He hoped she wouldn’t need to. That this would be over in a few weeks and she’d be back to getting a full eight hours. “Morning Detective… Long night?” She glares at him like he’s caused personal offence. He raises an eyebrow at her to prompt a response. Inside though, he panics. Had he done something wrong? Could she suspect? No. no of course not. But whatever she said next would surely be important. It was a test of sorts. What would she say she’d spent the night doing? Would she betray his alter ego? Could she sell the lie if she didn’t? “Just had a night in, had a little too much to drink,” she shrugs, opening her bag and removing a notebook. Casual, calm, partially true and nearly impossible to disprove short of a blood test or breathalyser, and even then there was deniability. Dick nods, and looks back down to his computer to hide the grin that splits his face in half. He knows he can’t dwell on it, knows he can’t act on it, but it’s completely unfair that she was that smooth. That helpful. She’d agreed to help him - as Nightwing - instantly. Her words about how Blud owed him a debt had played in his mind on loop for the rest of his patrol. He knew what it felt like to fly. To flip through the air at dizzying heights, gravity a mere afterthought. It was cruel, frankly, that he’d found someone who made him feel even better than that, only for her to be someone he couldn’t be with out of principle and professionalism. It wasn’t that he objected to her as a partner - short of his family, she was possibly the best he’d ever met. Frankly, if she was transferred to Gotham, the bat signal would be turned on far less frequently. And he didn’t object to rules about dating fellow officers, especially one’s partner. Objectively it made sense. But it didn’t change the fact that her smile was the best part of his day. That on the rare times she laughed he could swear he heard an angel just straight up quit its position in the heavenly chorus out of pure envy. That when she’d said she’d help he’d wanted nothing more than to grab her face and kiss her till she was breathless. But he can’t. Or at least Dick Grayson can’t. A new voice breaks him from his spiralling thoughts. “Detective Grayson.” The man standing behind his partner's desk has a hand on the back of her seat, preventing her from swivelling around. 
“We haven’t met yet, I’m Sergeant James McElroy. Seems you spent most of my first day back stuck on a stakeout.” “Pleasure.” he responds, with all the charm he’s learnt to use at galas and parties, forcing down the venom incurred by the way his partner had seemed to lose a gallon of blood at the sound of his voice, and the way she had seemed not to breath since the name was spoken.
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He's not touching you. Of course not. He knows better than to do anything so blatant. It's how he’d gotten away with it for so long last time. He doesn’t touch you, or say the things he was so clearly thinking. He would masterfully walk the line between making you feel unsafe, alone, and naked, while never crossing over into anything actionable. Till one day he had. It had been in a crowded lift where he’d used the crush as an excuse to grab and to feel, whispering something vile in your ear. 
He’d figured he’d gotten away with it when you tried to tell your captain and he’d asked if you had a witness. You’d thought he’d gotten away with it too. Till a uniformed officer, Janet Rodwell, had stepped up to have your back. You should have known, really. For the second time in 24 hours you feel like a fool. But while the first time it had been accompanied with a dizzying realisation of love, this time the realisation is dark and chilling to your core. You’d thought you’d won, that it was over. But he’s back and he’s not touching you, but you feel the ghost of his hands all over. You can’t win. He’d been sent away and you thought you were safe again, but he’s back and he’s a sergeant now. Because Bludhaven, as it is, rewards men like him. You can’t bring yourself to look over your shoulder at him, so you look straight ahead, across your desk and to your partner’s adjoining one.
It's not Dick Grayson’s eyes you meet though. They aren’t cheerful, carefree and beautiful. Well, they are beautiful. But they are angry, intelligent, and fierce. You meet Nightwings gaze, and you feel the claws around your lungs relax, even if they do not recede. 
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His partner did not rattle easily. Did not panic unnecessarily. 
Pinned down by the Penguin’s smugglers, he’d thought their goose had been cooked unless he could work at his true capacity, so he had shot out the lights and gotten to work. He’d taken out nine, but been unable to find the tenth, until he’d heard the struggle. 
She’d taken him down blind, without drawing her gun. When he’d asked her why she hadn’t, she’d told him she’d lost sight of him in the chaos, and was unwilling to risk it. He wished he hadn’t shot the light out so he could have seen it. 
Still, he had been oblivious. It had hit him like a batarang to the face last night, in that moment where she agreed without hesitation to help him find a serial killer. He’d known she was beautiful, and brilliant. That he had a crush. 
He’d realised last night he was in far, far deeper trouble than that. So, if she was frightened and upset by the presence of this man, then Dick would take his looming over her as a serious threat. He trusted her gut. “You haven’t introduced yourself to my partner, Detective—-” He’s cut off with a dismissive wave that boils his blood. “Oh we’ve met. In fact, she was my partner first. Until the misunderstanding.” There are many ways to snap someone out of a panic. He’s seen sheer rage do it many times. As it does now. “There was no misunderstanding,” she says, her voice firm, her teeth gritted. “Well. I want you to know-” he moves from directly behind her, to her side, leaning down over her, invading her space. Dick wanted to hit him. “I understand that what I did could have been seen as invasive, and you may have felt that I overstepped. I have completed a course, as demanded by HR, and will attempt not to cause you to feel that I have been inappropriate again.”
She takes a deep breath. He can practically hear her count in his head. He stands, moving around the desk to stand beside her, not quite a barrier but a comforting presence, or at least he hoped. “Well. Whatever occurred, we have work to be getting on with, if you don’t mind.” It takes a great deal of the restraint his training has given not to add the words ‘you bastard’, or something far more creative. “But of course. Detective. Detective.”  
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Your hands shake as you sit back down in your seat. Your partner, Grayson, returns to his own, his gaze - Richard’s gaze, never leaving your face, crumpled in concern. “I don’t want to overstep… but are you alright? What … did he do?” “I…” you want to tell him, in part. Or maybe you don’t, and you want him to know without having to go through the ordeal of rehashing it all. Maybe by consulting whatever ‘oracle’ he used as nightwing. But you can’t right now. So you don’t. “I… need some air.” Your partner just gives you a comforting smile, a nod, and lets you leave without question. Wingding in the window 
It's five days later, on his patrol, when he notices it. The wingding left in her window. He stops on the roof of the building adjacent to her. As far as city roofs go, this one’s relatively nice. Someone’s placed some potted plants around, in an eclectic attempt at a rooftop garden. Some of these pots contain small pebbles as cover for the soil from the wind. Grinning to himself, he takes a handful. 
Was this a good idea? No. 
Was it deceptive? Well, no more than anything else he did as Nightwing… well, maybe a little more. 
But it hurt, holding her at arm's length, when a part of his soul he tried to ignore yearned to be as close as she would allow. He knows it’s not good. He knows it’s a violation of the utter trust she seems to hold in Nightwing. Really, it would only make things even more messy for his chances as Dick. But he wants to make her smile. Blush, even. He knows she finds him attractive, and in both contexts, but he wants more than that. Over the last week he’s realised just how much he wants to have with her, and it terrifies him. 
If it was simple lust he could deal with it.  But it wasn’t, and so here he was, about to attempt the cheesiest move known to hallmark films, just to see if it would make her laugh at him again. 
He’d managed to be professional while surrounded by highly capable, badass women in skintight clothes for most of his life. He’d had crushes before and gotten over them. He wanted everything with her. And that was not something he knew how to handle, given the mess of their situation. Dick shakes his head, snapping himself out of his doom spiral. He had a detective to meet, and a serial killer to find.
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Bap. Bap. Bap. You look up from your book. You’d been getting ready for sleep, wearing your cosy pyjamas, curled up in bed with a book and a hot chocolate. You go still, listening. Bap. Bap. A pause. Then, the rap of knuckles on glass. “I ran out of rocks”
You know that voice. “With you in a moment.” You pull on a dressing gown, and take a moment to curse the fact that your slippers are rabbits before pulling the curtains aside. Nightwing is crouched on your windowsill. You lift it, stepping back as he enters through the window with all the grace of a cat. You know that you shouldn’t be embarrassed to be in your pyjamas, it's late, you had no means of knowing when he’d arrive. But he looked divine in that suit. An adonis. And you're in your old bathrobe and bunny slippers. Truely, you must have done terrible things in a past life. “Nice footwear.” Nightwing says with a smirk. Curse him. Curse his cheekbones and the way his lips look so damn inviting. “You picked up what, five rocks?” you sass right back. Nightwing makes a noise you suspect was supposed to be a scoff, but is more of a squeak. “Do you see a lot of pocket space on this?” 
“Fair.” you say, leading him out of your bedroom and into your living room. He sits on your couch, one leg spread wide, the other’s ankle resting on its thigh, as you open a drawer on your coffee table and produce your masterpiece. Nearly five metres of red string. Names, photos, dates, all studded with pins so pressed so tightly in they haven’t a prayer of accidental removal. You prop it up on the coffee table. 
Maybe your friends were right. Maybe you did need to touch grass. A line of thought for later. You look at Nightwing, who’s no longer relaxed and laying back on your sofa like he owned the place. 
Its years of maintaining a poker face in interrogations and more recently, dealing with his shenanigans that prevents you from grinning. 
He's as pale as you’ve ever managed to see him, and leaning forward now, elbow on knee and chin in hand. “Well, this is… impressive.” He sounded like he’d inhaled helium. “Shall we start with Sergeant McElroy?” you offer, smiling your best ‘there’s nothing wrong’ smile, enjoying making him squirm. “You seem to have … a significant amount of evidence against Detective Richard Grerson?” You fight the urge to roll your eyes as you take a ruler, poking your picture of him between the eyes. You hadn’t planned to do him first, you’d hoped to discuss evidence that would actually lead somewhere. 
This was still going to be fun though. You take a deep breath, and pause for a suitable level of dramatic effect, and begin your game. 
“Detective Richard Grayson. He’s my partner. He’s an excellent detective, and a good man. You might have heard of the charity he founded.” Nightwing makes a noncommittal humming noise. “But is it all too good to be true?” you ask, moving to your first notecard. “Exhibit one. He asked about the file. On its own, innocuous. But then, exhibits two through four. He’s prone to frequent disappearances on cases. He often knows a little too much about the criminal underside of Blud. Things that I have triple checked are not in any police database.”
You run a hand through your hair. “He’s a highly trained combatant. I once saw him take down nine men armed with guns, in the dark. They don’t teach that at the police academy.” “No? No.” Nightwing says, clearing his throat. “I mean yes. That is… suspicious.” “Incredibly. Which brings me to exhibit five. Now I’m no behavioural analyst or shrink. But I know my basics. Childhood trauma and instability can have… lingering impacts. I… don’t feel the need to dredge up his past, but I did look into it… and it’s grim. He was then taken in by Bruce Wayne. His relationship to his father, whatever it is, is something he’s even tighter lipped about then… everything else honestly. It’s not on the board because it’s circumstantial at best… but he has this skill of being able to hold long conversations and yet you come away not having learnt anything deeper about him.” 
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He was pretty sure he’d been nodding for a good thirty seconds at this point.  
It would be funny if it didn’t hurt so much. 
The worst part was that it was all well reasoned. Practical. He had done everything she accused him of. She had just drawn a far more down to earth conclusion, that he was a corrupt cop, rather than Nightwing. 
It made sense. Too much sense. How could he shut this down without seeming invested in his own innocence? 
That isn’t what causes his lungs to burn though. No. The root of that was that even if he’d forced himself to maintain a professional - if friendly - distance from her, he would have hoped that she trusted him. 
But in this moment, looking at the evidence, looking at her holding that ruler to his photo’s face like a judge's gavel ready to condemn… he knows. He knows that she will never look at Dick the way she does as Nightwing, happy to see him, believing in his mission, ready to help as soon as he’d asked. Even if he clears himself of this crime, she would surely suspect him of others. 
He’d known it, at least on one level, ever since he’d first met her. He knows it now all the deeper, and he wants to scream. Dick Grayson will never get to tell her how truly wonderful she is.
How highly he regards her. 
How she is one of the reasons he keeps fighting for Bludhaven. 
Dick Grayson will never get to tell her that he loves her. 
But… perhaps Nightwing could have something. Because if she was his north star, then the way he’d felt when she agreed to help him had been like being engulfed by a supernova. 
If she was water, then seeing her cosy and ready for bed and smiling as she let him in through the window had been an oasis in the Sahara. 
If music was the food of love, her attempts not to laugh and stifled giggles over his peeps popcorn had been a symphony orchestra. 
But he’d never have her as himself. Not at all. Nightwing though? She at least found him attractive. Aligned with his ideology. No, he’d never feel that warmth of 10,000 stars directed at the real him. 
No, he’d never be able to be quenched by her life saving presence. 
No, he’d never feel her laughter shaking his bones as if in a musical crescendo.
But even the dimmest and most distant star gave off some light.
Even the last drop in an empty water skin was better than nothing.
Even the memory of a melody could be sweet. True, he would only ever have scraps of her affection. True, he could flirt, and perhaps go even further… but he’d never truly be with her. 
But who was a starving man to deny scraps of sustenance? He’d take what he could have and try to ignore the lingering hunger. 
“Perhaps we should discuss… another suspect?” he prompts, realising how long he’s been silent. How long she had been too, watching him with a strange, concerned look.
She nods, and moves on to their Captain.
Dick is almost relieved when some ten minutes later Oracle calls in a robbery downtown. “Well - sorry Sherlock.” He takes a picture of her board for further study. “I’ll be around next week to continue this discussion, and look over this in my own time till then. Duty calls.” “Be safe,” She says softly, as he’s halfway through the window He looks over his shoulder. “As you wish.”
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If you would request to be added to my taglist, please reblog the fic. Honestly please just reblog it anyway? I worked hard on this. Nothing more demotivating than a fic getting only likes. If you want part three, reblog part two. 
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liivzen · 10 hours ago
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As a woman in America today I feel so defeated
If you have an recommendations for fluff or anything soft, please send them my way that’s all I ask🫶🏻
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mixingandmelting · 2 days ago
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No, Between the Two Of Us - None of Us Are the Sane One
Summary: Childhood to lover trope feat. Dick Grayson where you were best friends with him since the start of his Robin days which was also when he first having a crush on you
Words: 2.7 k
A/N: First time posting in the DC fandom, so please be gentle with me! Also there will be a version for Jason and Tim. ; )
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Being besties with Batman and the first Robin is an experience to say the least. Many fantasize how it might go, romanticizing the prospect and excitement the friendship may bring. For you? Zero out of ten, would not recommend. The public masses claimed them to be heroes, but only you and villains know how unhinged they were. You did not appreciate playing the middleman when the two gave each other the cold shoulder or being the center of their amusement. Especially with Robin. You swore on your nonexistent Aunt Patty’s grave that boy was chaotic evil, the agent of all chaos. You grew paranoid for months having been pranked by him every time he swung by so you wouldn’t do “something stupid”. Or so he said only to get you to scream at the top of your lungs whenever you were hanging around on your apartment’s roof, creeping silently towards you and whispering the most random fact he found. He would then cackle with glee and proceed to rub on the wound by reminding you how the first meeting between you three which led to the constant check-ups  (a whole, another story you rather not remember involving a much younger you and Robin, Santa Claus, and pajamas printed all over with I <3 Batman and Robin).  You tried to get back at him multiple times. You never once won. 
However, there were times when he wasn’t pranking you. Moments like those, he’d simply sit and brood next to you, waiting for you to ask what’s wrong before starting his rant about Batman. With little to no knowledge said man, himself, would visit you and ask about him a few minutes after he leaves. Yes, you did question why they thought it would be a good idea for a kid younger than themselves to mediate between their fights only to give up  when you found yourself going in circles as to why you still chose to be friends with them. Way too complicated and big of a headache for your small head. It didn’t seem like Robin cared either, as he would tell you everything on his mind, not a single thing held back. Hands being held or a head leaning on a shoulder was a must when he talks. When that tradition started you genuinely had no idea but you never thought about it. More like you can’t when you saw the expression he wore. 
What started when both of you were merely children continued on to high school, where you discovered his identity. The way you found out was disappointingly anticlimactic. After the many years you hung out with him, of course you would recognize him right away. The same gremlin laughter, the corny jokes he shared with his fellow peers. Oh, and the fact his hairstyle stayed the same as both Robin and Dick Grayson. 
Dick, on the other hand, obviously hadn’t thought through that. At all. Okay, sure, you were on the more observant side but still, you shouldn’t have been able to piece all that together within a semester. He wasn’t even at school often because of all the missions to the point the school had been frequently calling Bruce and Alfred about his many absences. There were plenty of guys who sounded, talked, and looked like him, including his height. He was careful. Shouldn’t have been a “dead give away”, whatever that meant. So when he came over to comfort you after a mission, hearing how you got stood up at the school’s dance, he wasn’t prepared for you calling him by his name. Worse, he couldn’t even play dumb or pretend to not know what you were saying. Not when you gave him the same eyes you always did that held comfort and support he always seeked, as if understanding everything he was going through. 
With the cat out of the bag, he soon had you meet Batman as Bruce Wayne. He enjoyed the mini meltdown and sense of horror you were having, realizing just who exactly you’ve been chummy with all those years. Maybe he shouldn’t have gloated how you should've treated them better when you gave a mean, actually painful jab to his ribs. Still was worth it. So was the impromptu meeting with his team, Teen Titans, when you started working part-time at the pizza place they always stopped by to eat when celebrating a mission gone well. You didn’t know how silly and adorable you were acting, not as bad when meeting Bruce, but definitely shy and frazzled from being star struck. Well, for a bit that was. An hour later, you were sitting and laughing with them about a mission that involved Condiment King. The way you smiled and brightened the room had him thinking for a moment that he had a shot. After all, you practically met everyone he considered family. It had to be a sign for him to seal the deal. 
It stopped and ended as a thought. When you all started talking about love, he didn’t know as much as how he didn’t know which hurt him more; you saying you weren’t going to be in a relationship ever or you, not friendzoned, but bro-zoned him. You don’t notice the way Wally stiffens or the worried glances Donna shot at him. Starfire voiced opposition to your decision to stay single. Raven, not knowing anything, gave you her support. He most definitely did not appreciate Gar feigning disappointment only to get snapped at for going over the line by Vic. 
He didn’t know how to act around you afterwards when he escorted you home. He knew he was making you worried,  more so when he kept telling you he was fine when you asked if you had done anything to make him uncomfortable. He wanted things to stay the same. Retain the precious relationship that led to his love for you. There was no intention to make that night his last night with you. Yet, how was he supposed to act when he found out he never had a chance from the start? As crazy as it sounded, he once even thought about you being a Grayson. Of course not in high school; when the two of you got much older. It filled him with guilt when he heard from Bruce how you were asking about his well-being. It felt like a knife was being twisted in his heart when letters you wrote were slipped between his homework whenever he had gone to school to get them, belatedly realizing he never gave you his number. All he could reply back was the same, lousy excuse of being busy with missions. 
You, on the other hand, waited, hoped, prayed that Dick would visit you again. You knew somehow it was your fault and you wanted to apologize, make things right. Every night you stood on the rooftop, doing homework or simply reading. The nights you don’t, you left his favorite candy with a note. Batman was the only one who visited you then, though his visits were becoming rare from the increase of crimes occurring all over the world. It was through him you learned about Dick’s decision to leave the state and go to some college in New York by the end of the school year. You ended up rejecting the invitation to go with him to the graduation ceremony, knowing there was no point in seeing Dick again.
So really, Dick should’ve seen it coming when he learned from Alfred that you were leaving on the day of. As if to one up him, you weren’t leaving New Jersey.  You were leaving the states. It didn’t help that he had been forced to hand over Robin’s mantle to Jason not too long after the rejection. He had to face another heartbreak, as he mourned over the Robin who first met you, the body wonder who was your best friend, was no more. He naively thought he had time. To debut and cement his role as Nightwing, leader of Teen Titans while getting himself back together, all to come back to you. It was apparent enough to know he didn’t. Finding out on the day of, his hands fumbled with the keys to his motorcycle, rushing to get to the airport on time. Despite breaking every traffic law in Gotham (which he ended up owing Babs on not getting taken to jail or paying a big ass fine), he arrived too late. He couldn’t call out to you, his eyes taking in the glimpse of your hair  through cracks of the closing gates to TSA. 
Years passed and he tried to get over you. First with Starfire, then with Babs. Zatanna, Helena, Bea, Lori, Clancy, mixing one-night stands in between. But none of them ended up working for him. None of them were you. They didn't have the same humor you had. They didn’t give him the same warm hugs you gave him without him ever having to ask because you simply knew. Hell, the whole reason for things to end with each of them was because they called him out for it. His whole team did. Even his whole family including Bruce, Steph, Duke, Tim, and Damian. He’s not going to talk about what happened with Alfred, Jason, and Cass. He still gets nightmares for what they put him through. 
As he continued failing on nurturing a permanent relationship, you found yourself frequently buying magazines or skimming on the webs on the latest news and gossip covering vigilantes and heroes during your study abroad. You had brought with you newspaper clippings you kept on the Robin you still missed and cherished. You could count the number of times Robin changed, recognizing none of them were Dick. Yet you never found the heart to ask Bruce what had happened, if he was okay. Nor would you have been able to when you left without ever getting some sort of contact information to stay in touch with him. 
Now, he’s in his early thirties and you’re in your late twenties. So much has happened during your lives but you still think of each other. All the what-ifs playing in the back of each other's minds, regret and hope constantly raging back and forth. But not once have either you met even when you came back a few days ago. 
Currently, you’re sitting on the ledge of the same roof of where everything began. Gotham glows beautifully without the stars, its artificial lights so bright it makes the city shine as much as it does in the day. Kicking your legs, you hum mindlessly enjoying the scene. That is until someone calls out your name. 
Your grip slips and you scream, nearly falling to your demise. Or about to until a warm arm quickly wraps itself around your torso and pulls you over to safety. Gently the person places you on the concrete floor, a few seconds passing afterwards as your mind registers you’re still alive. Guess they weren’t expecting you to get angry, two hands quickly in the air and sputtering apologies when you stand back up and rage why no sane person would ever scare the living daylights out of a person sitting on a roof along with profanities that could shame Deathstroke and bring pride to Red Hood. You’re panting in the end and reach towards the can of soda you had placed when you were sitting. And when you take a sip, it then hits to who you had raged on. 
He looks away, a hand covering his face from holding back the laughter that threatens to spill out when your face matches a tomato. You’re barely whispering when you apologize for the profanities, of course you aren’t going to apologize for everything else you both know you’re very much right on that part, horrified and embarrassed that you had done that to a very famous vigilante. Out goes his self-control when you go absolutely silent and start to fidget from the lack of response. He bursts at the face you make from mortification. 
“You haven’t changed one bit.”
You freeze at those words. 
“Do…I know you?”
Immediately he stops. The air turns tense, you looking at him with wariness as he slowly turns himself completely towards you. Gently, he calls out your name. When you continue to look confused, he does it again, taking a step closer and pulling off his mask. 
He can see so much denial in your shaking eyes. The desire of you wanting him to say the person standing in front of you isn’t him. He’s quick to grab both wrists and root you on spot, keen and trained eyes already noticing your feet turning to make a run for it. His grip on you is firm but soft, enduring all the words you thoughtlessly, recklessly say while tugging to get him to let go. 
Eventually you stop, acknowledging there isn’t going to be a chance again in the future for you to speak to him or him to you. In fact, you both most likely would  evade each other for the rest of life if not for now. When he’s sure that you won’t escape, slowly, he lets go and takes a step back.
“..Why?”
There’s a tremor in your voice, the area of concrete in front of your feet becoming bi-colored. You don’t scream. You don’t raise your voice. Dick can feel himself break, his throat and chest constricting, dawning on him how not once you fault him for ruining the friendship between the two of you while listening about, for the longest time, all you desired was to apologize. When you weren’t even in the wrong. Too soon your words start to mesh and trip over each other. He takes the opportunity to open his mouth. 
“I love you.”
Your head snaps up, eyes meeting a smile fill with bitterness and self-loath. Your heart initially refuses to accept everything he tells you, how long ago he started to have a crush on you to how it ended up turning into love. You can never relate how his love for you ruined him where all his relationships with others never lasted for long when it’s him. The gremlin child that held confidence to defy everything on Earth, the gremlin child you developed feelings for. Silence hangs in the air once he’s done. All of a sudden you’re livid. Offended. Dick doesn’t notice, going from rubbing the back of his neck to shifting his weight from one foot to the other, wanting to give you the space to soak everything in. When he finally can’t wait anymore, he rushes to think of something, even resorting to begging for your forgiveness. Not looking down at your hands that slowly reaches for his collar.
“Please, all I really want to say is that I'm sorry. I know I was a dick to you so I don’t even deserve to have chance to ask you to be f-”
It takes Dick a hot minute to realize what’s happening before melting in. His hands make their way towards yours, pulling them up and placing them on his cheeks. He tilts his head to deepen the kiss without crossing a nonexistent line that you probably aren’t ready for. It ends up being the right call when you end up breaking it, lack of oxygen in your lungs from having no experience.
“Next time, just ask instead of assuming things.” You growl, pinching the flesh on both sides of his face.
He doesn’t reply or lets you say another word, his soft and warm lips placed right back on yours where they belong. Where they should’ve been since back then. Too bad the second kiss doesn’t last longer than the first, all of sudden hearing wolf-whistles around the two of you. Everyone from the Bat family and the Titans reveal themselves on the roof, some clapping, most teasing on how long it took for you two to get together. You quickly duck your face into his chest while Dick chuckles and pulls you into a tight embrace. 
Later on, a ring adorns his and your left hand. Never once getting taken off, no matter the reason. 
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vinamari · 3 months ago
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How it feels going to bed after reading some words
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It was angst
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Reunion
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Masterlist
Pairing: Dick Grayson x (f)reader
Tags: NSFW, future angst, toxic, you cant fix him, smut, grad school, halloween, Dick is the reader's friend's ex's best friend, reunion, oral, penetration, praise, heartbreak, heartbroken reader,
The last time you'd been at a party like this was in freshman year. Now, in your twenties and in grad school, you were surprised to be at a Halloween house party - on Greek row, no less.
What was the harm? You were dressed in a Men in Black costume with your best friend, Jo, which made you look like a duo rather than a lone target for the inevitable creeps. Plus, you knew a bunch of people here, so it could actually turn out to be a fun night. In your black leather skirt and white button-up, you had chosen an outfit that was both fun and flattering. The fitted blazer - which you borrowed from your sister - accentuated your figure well. Your outfit had been recognized on the walk over by people calling out, "Men in Black!" From across the street.
As you stood with Jo on the front porch while people amoked around you and music blasted from inside, you were waiting for the host to reply with the text containing the entry code. Suddenly, Jo called out, "Dicky!" before being pulled into a hug by someone. You looked up just as “Dicky” turned toward you, and in a heartbeat, you found yourself pulled into an unexpectedly warm embrace. Lean muscles pressed against you through the thin fabric of a black button-up, undone just enough to reveal a glimpse of toned chest.
A low, teasing voice laughed in your ear, “Bet you don’t remember me.”
Your voice was small as you murmured, “No…” but then you caught sight of his face - and your heart skipped. Athletic build, sharp jawline, flawless blue eyes, and a smile that could probably melt glass. Oh, you remembered him.
“It’s Robert’s friend,” Jo grinned at you, helpfully filling in the details.
Right. Robert’s friend, Dicky. Dick Grayson. The eldest Wayne brother. That Dick Grayson.
In your periphery, you caught eyes of party goers following your exchange. A mix of intrigue and excitement shown in them. A few people nudged each other, whispering, but Dick didn't seem to notice. Holding himself with indifference, as if used to it.
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Three years ago.
You’d just finished celebrating a friend’s 20th birthday, and as the night wound down, the pub your friend group frequented started emptying as people were heading out for the night. Your group gathered their coats and stumbled into the crisp night air, chattering and laughing.
Your friend, along with her boyfriend, Robert, stopped you at the door. “Hey, girl, you got a ride?”
“I’ll catch the bus,” you reassured them, gesturing at the stop down the block.
“Don’t take the bus,” a new voice interjected. “I’ll drive you.”
“Oh-” You turned toward Dick as he flashed his keys. The sound of his Subaru unlocking accompanied his offer. “You don’t have to.”
“C’mon, you don’t live that far from me anyway.”
And that’s how you ended up in a car with him.
You’d asked, just to be sure, “You didn’t drink, right?” caught for a moment by the way his eyes turned to catch your gaze. You tried to keep your cool, but your blush gave you away. You blamed the booze.
A glint sparked in his eye. “What, you don’t trust me?”
Your fingers fidgeted nervously. “If you drank… then, no.”
He smirked, showing perfect teeth. “I can be dangerous when I’m sober, too.” With a mischievous look, he sped up just slightly, the engine roaring. “Do you trust me?”
Your breath hitched, but this time, not with fear - with excitement. You tried to tell yourself, 'Pull your dumbass head out', especially since he had a girlfriend. Or... a friend he was making out with. Who didnt leave with him...
Still, your body didn't listen, as the thrill of his speeding up made you grip the seat belt tighter.
“Maybe you shouldn’t…” you whispered.
“I think I should.” His grin widened, and the car sped up even more.
You couldn’t help laughing to yourself. There was something irresistibly reckless about him, and he obviously knew it worked in his favor. Something that made your pulse race. Your backward, illogical pulse.
You hadn’t noticed your thighs pressing together. But he had.
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You blinked, bringing yourself back to the party, back to the present. You smiled up at him. “Yeah, I remember you.”
“Good." He grinned, slipping his hands casually into his pockets. Those blue eyes, with their signature teasing glint, roamed over you as if he were taking mental notes and enjoying every reaction you made. "Men in black?"
"Y/n's idea!" Jo grinned at him. "Costume took us all of five minutes to put together... something like that, right?" He turned to you for confirmation.
"Yeah," you said absentmindedly.
"And what are you?" Jo turned back to Dick. A dark angel?"
You took in his outfit. Black button up, undone at the top, black feather wings on the back, and a black halo held by a headband around his head.
"Lucifer," Dick corrected.
"Ah, nice!" Jo gave a slow clap.
Dick smiled a cocky smile, and then his gaze shifted to yours. "It's good to see you."
There was a new air about him. He was taller, his frame still lean but solid with muscle. He looked every bit the man you once knew, now more rugged. Hed changed, but so had you. Back then, you’d been easily impressed by boys. Now, after a serious relationship resulting in awful hearbreak followed by a handful of flings, you knew the game better. Experience had a way of tempering those old thrills.
“Nice to see you too,” you said, trying to play it cool, though a flicker of heat crossed your cheeks.
“Waiting on your friend?” Dick asked, noticing you glancing at your phone.
“Yeah,” you muttered, a little annoyed. “My friend Penelope’s one of the hosts, but she’s not answering my texts.”
He didn’t hesitate, stepping away and speaking briefly to the guy at the door. A moment later, he came back. “Give him the cover, and you’re in.”
“Thanks.” You smiled up at him, grateful.
“Anytime.”
Before you could say more, a voice cooed from the side, “Oh, Lucifer…” A girl in a Hogwarts costume sauntered over, pressing herself against Dick's side with her hands running up his torso. “Come corrupt me.”
You offered a polite, close lipped smile as she gave you a once-over. Yep. This was the Dick you remembered. Never alone. Always surrounded by admirers.
“See you inside?” he asked, eyes already on her, a grin on his face.
“Yeah,” you nodded, hurrying past them.
Inside, the party was in full swing. The house was packed, music thumping, and you wove through the crowd, recognizing friends and catching up with the occasional shouting match over the blaring speakers. Finally, a hand grabbed your shoulder, and you turned to see Penelope in an American Psycho costume with the plastic raincoat covered in blood. “Girl, you made it!”
“Yep!” You hugged her, laughing. “Cool party! How’s it going?”
“Chaos,” she rolled her eyes. “People have been sneaking in without RSVPs, and we’ve been chasing them out all night-"
Suddenly a ring came from her phone and she brought it up to read the screen, then offered you an apologetic look. "Someone just broke the fridge door, I gotta go-"
You waved off her apology, pulling her toward the dance floor. “Let someone else deal with it. Lets enjoy your party, bitch!”
She gave up fighting and pocketed her phone, then began to dance to the music. The two of you fell into the rhythm of the crowd, and as the drinks started kicking in, you let yourself melt into the music, eyes closed, the bass pulsing through you.
A low voice murmured behind you. “Didn’t know you could move like that.”
You turned to see Dick, grinning as he joined you on the floor. “I used to do ballet.”
His brows rose. “How did I never know that?”
You shrugged. “Guess it never came up.”
His hands settled lightly on your waist, pulling you toward him. “Well, I have to say,” a mischievous smirk played on his lips as he leaned in close, his voice soft and warm in your ear. “It did wonders. You’re damn sexy when you dance.”
You felt your cheeks heat. “Where's your girlfriend?”
Dick laughed to himself. There was a thrill in making you flustered, a satisfaction that came from knowing he could draw out that blush. He shook his head, amused. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”
“What about Miss Gryffindor?” You raised an eyebrow.
He laughed, nodding in realization you meant the girl from earlier. “Ah, yeah. I just met her here. Don’t even know her name.”
“Oh?” You felt the tension ease only slightly, though a quick look around made you oddly self-conscious. The music, the people packed around, the way he was looking at you-all of it made it feel like you two were too close.
Dick caught sight of a phone camera aiming his way, likely hoping for a candid. He turned slightly, hiding your face without you noticing and giving them a polite but distant nod. He was used to this game.
There were too many people here, he dicided. He leaned close to your ear. “Wanna go somewhere a little quieter?”
Your brow quirked, your rational side already on alert. Of course. Dick Grayson might look like a dream, but he was still a guy. “And do what?”
He smiled, something mischievous glinting in his eyes. “And have some fun." He grinned, undeterred by your unimpressed expression.
Part of you longed to lean into the proposition. But another part screamed at to be cautious, to remember that opening your heart again could lead to more pain. You had decided a while ago that, at least for now, you weren't ready to commit your time and energy into a relationship. "Look, I appreciate the offer. But I'm not really looking to get tied up in something -"
"I'm not offering to get you tied up in something." He smirked. "I'm offering we fuck. Just one night. Between two grown ups who know what they want."
You blinked, and suddenly, the proposal became appealing. One night? No strings attached and, more importantly, no heartbreak? And as far as guys at this party went, you could do a lot worse than Dick Grayson.
"No strings attached?" You looked up at him
"You have my word." He make a show of putting his hand on his heart.
Fuck it, You thought. Let him show you what everyone was gushing about. Timidly, you nodded up at him. "I'll just tell my friends know where I'm going."
"Let them wonder." He waves off, careless. Truth be told, you realize you don't really know how to deal with your friends' reactions to you leaving the party with a him. Instead, you pull your phone out and send your group chat a quick text.
Ditching. Going home with someone )) see y'all tomorrow.
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"You still drive the same Subaru?" You said, making yourself comfortable on his leather seat. He even had the same seashell decoration on his rearview mirror. Your hand rose to touch it.
"You remember Morticia?" Dick asked from behind the wheel, turning the engine on.
You couldn't help the snort that ripped out of your mouth. "Right, Morticia. I forgot."
"Yeah, how could I trade off my baby? She's seen me through thick and thin." His fingers tapped at the wheel as he pulled up out of the party.
You nodded, rolling your eyes at how predictable men were. Boys and their toys, or however the saying went. "So, what are you up to? School? Work?"
"Police academy." He flashed you a signature charming smile.
You blinked, and your brows rose in surprise. "Oh wow, just like you wanted."
"I had a plan." His gaze was on the road ahead. His voice took on a serious tone.
"Thats great, Di-" you began to say.
"What about you? How's law school going?"
It was your turn to face the road. "It's... okay."
He hummed. "Doesn't sound like it,"
You huffed. "I dint know. I guess I idealized it too much. Turns out studying the law has a lot to do with getting away with crime rather than preventing it."
He didn't respond at first and you turned to see him grasp at the wheel, knuckles white. "Yeah... Tell me about it."
You swallowed, wondering what his reaction was about. "Is it like that at the academy, too?"
"There's corruption everywhere in this city." He said with a tone of disappointment. "And anyone can be bought."
You were surprised at this new side of him which you've never seen before.
You cleared your throat, then, in an attempt to lift the mood, said. "Well, here's to hoping idealistic dreamers manage to stay on the good guy's side. Hmm?"
He grinned at tyat, blue eyes still studying the road. "I like the sound of that."
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Dick still lived in the same apartment building you once visited two years ago. He pulled into the familiar parking lot and shifted into the park. As you walked into the unit of his medium-sized livingroom, taking in the humble decor, comfortable furniture, matte colored wallpaper. What stood out the most was the sheer mess of books tossed and scattered around the place. You remembered Dick to be pretty messy. You didn't remember him being so studious.
You walked over to his coffee table and picked up an open book, flipping it to read the cover.
Forensic Pathology Throughout the 21st Century by-
You nearly dropped the book when you felt his lips on the back of your neck. Dick's frame was so much bigger compared to yours, his arms easily framed you from the back as you felt his body heat on your back. You sighed softly as his lips trailed down your neck, his hand coming up to brush your hair aside.
"Wanna know something?" He whispered in your ear, the warmth of his cooler scented breath tickling your sensitive skin.
"Yeah," your voice was just above a whisper.
"I had a bit of a crush on you when we first met." His voice lowered with the confession.
You smiled a melancholy smile to yourself. You had trouble believing that. In your experience, guys always said what they knew would get them into bed. "Really?"
He turned you to face him. His eyes studying you with amusement. "You don't believe me."
You grimaced at being caught. "You realize that I'm already at your place, right? You don't need to say anything to get in my pants."
He made a show of looking down at your outfit. "You're not wearing pant-"
"Dick," You smacked him lightly on the shoulder.
He caught your wrist and lowered his face to meet your eye to eye. "We were at Richmond's pub. You, me, Robert, Laura, and I think... yeah, a couple more people. Your friend came over to visit you from another state, and you invited her to join."
Your eyes switched between his as he spoke, remembering exactly that night you talked about.
"And we all had a bit to drink. And everyone was talking so fucking much. And laughing. And shouting. There wasn't a moments peace that night. Except," he said, cupping your chin. "Except for your corner of the table."
You raised a brow, prompting him to continue.
"You just sat there." He went on. "Quietly, and observed. But every time someone said something , you gazed at them as if it was the most interesting thing on earth. There was wonder in your eyes that I just..."
"You just...?"
He shrugged, then lowered his lips and met yours in a heated kiss. You sighed into the kiss, and he deepened it, his tongue swiping past yours. You stood this close for a long time. When you pulled apart, Dick looked like he physically yearned for more. "I just wanted to kiss you so. Damned. Bad."
Your breath sped up by that time, catching up on the breath you'd lost to the kiss, your mouth dropped slightly in astonishment. "You still remember that?"
He nodded, pulling you back into the kiss. As you leaned into him, he unbuttoned your blazer, followed by your blouse, then loosened your tie, trailing kisses down your collar and breasts until he reached the hem of your skirt, asking. "Take a step back for me,"
"Okay," you nodded, obeying until your back hit the wall of his living room.
The scenario was so random. You never thought you'd end up liek this tonight. Backed up against the wall of Dick Grayson's apartment, clothes disheveled, strands of hair falling on your face as the eldest son of gothams, the wealthiest dynasty kneeling at your feet. You'd be amazed, but in truth, you were still processing what he told you earlier. He remembered a very specific moment. That even you didn't think of as significant. And yet... it had meant something to him. You suddenly felt your heart warm.
You risked a glance down, seeing him lift up your skirt, pulling down your panties.
His blue eyes focused on yours as his tongue slipped past his lips, and he leaned closer, swiping it through your folds. Unable to handle the intensity of the view, you bit your lip, wanting to shift your gaze away, but... you couldn't. It was like his gaze physically locked yours in. His lips wrapped around your core, tongue quickly finding your clit with enthusiastic licks.
"Oh," your hand shot to cover your mouth as your head rolled back against the wall. Shaking fingers combed the black locks of his hair as you moaned his name, begging for more.
His hands wrapped around the back of your thighs, and he pulled them further apart, opening you up for better access. His tongue dipped into you, licking that sensitive nerve inside, making your back arch against the wall.
"Please," you keened as your core began to spread a warm, exciting sensation, making your body shake against him. "Please, please, please,"
Your knees buckled, nearly giving out. He stood up, catching you around your waist, pressing your foreheads together. "Hey," he gasped, grinning at you.
"H-hi" you panted against him.
"Not quitting on me, are you?" He winked at you.
You laughed. "No."
"Brilliant," he smiled, pulling you into a kiss that was eagerly returned.
You don't remember exactly how, but you were picked up one moment and then lowered onto his bed the next. This was a part of his room you were seeing for the first time, but you barely gave a fuck to look around as you were too busy getting up off the bed, surprising a stripping Dick.
He eyed you questioningly until you brought your hands up to where he was in the middle of unbuttoning his shirt and replacing his. Carefully you discarded his shirt, kissing your way down his impressively chiseled chest and torso. You were surprised to see a mapping of scars and marks along his skin, but refrained from asking. The less you two knew about each other, the better. You kissed your way down, reveling in the sounds he released as you did, and the way his hand came up to cradle your head.
At last, you reached the top of his jeans, sitting comfortably on his narrow waist. You undid his belt and lowered the layer of pants and underwear until his hardness was in front of you. You tried to hold back your wide-eyed reaction, but holy... Dick's Dick was big. We'll, it was bigger than any you've ever seen. All three.
"Like what you see?" He asked above you with a knowing smile.
You realized you were staring, then you looked up at him and nodded eagerly before taking him in your mouth. You watched his brow furrow in pleasure as he gasped, hand still cradling your head. He drawled, "Oh baby, yes. Just like that. Good girl."
You moaned around him at the praise, eager for more. Licking and sucking, you thought to yourself, this was the most eager you've ever been to give someone a blow job, not sure why - I guess the right ones just have that effect.
"Baby," He moaned. "If you want me to fuck you, you should stop."
Reluctantly you pulled away, watching his face, studying his expressions. You got up slowly on wobbly legs and fell back onto the soft, cushion of the bed, backing up to give him room.
Dick tisksed, shaking his head. You wondered what that was about, but then he grabbed you by your ankle and pulled you towards himself. It barely took any effort for him to do that. Your breath hitched, more so when you two were now met torso to torso as he leaned over you, lining himself up. He grabbed one of the pillows on his bed head, lifted you by the small of your back, and placed the pillow under it. Then, he rolled on the condom. You were surprised, usually having to do both those actions yourself.
When he thrust into you, the two of you gasped in unison. His pupils were wide as he gazed down at you before drawing you against him. You clung onto him as he trusted into you again and again. "Ah, ah, Dick-"
"So tight." He bit his lip. "God, baby. You're so perfect."
"Dick, I'm - oh," you stuttered. "Please, more, please,"
He sped up his rhythm, brushing your sensitive spot with each thrust, moaning as he did. "So, fucking tight. Feels so good, baby."
"Yeah," you gazed up at him with those glassy eyes, and Dick felt like he won. He hadn't lied when he said he wanted to kiss you. We'll. He did lie. In truth, he wanted to do so much more. But having you beneath him, moaning his name, and gazing up at him like he was all that mattered made something spark within him. Something powerful. Possessive. He wanted every guy who you've ever been with to see you this way. His. For all intents and purposes, in this perfect moment, you were his.
Dick pressed his hand to your lower belly, feeling himself slide in and out of you. The action resulted in a sweet pressure inside you, building up and making you write under him.
God, did he know what he was doing. It was refreshing. Truly.
Your nails scratched down his back to grasp as his hips needing him closer, as close as possible. Your orgasm hit like a wave, making you cry out as your whole body shuddered.
Your shaking hands cradled his face. He shuddered and leaned into your touch, making each eager thrust count.
"Come for me," you wispered, eyes pleading. "I wanna see you come."
Oh god, yes. He grunted, pressing against you. He would do anything, everything. All you had to do was ask in that breathy, cute voice. Please.
As if obeying an order, his orgasm shot through his entire body. Your arms snaked around him, pulling him down to you for a kiss, and he lowered himself to indulge you.
You were so sweet, so vulnerable in his arms. So different from the composed, confident girl he'd remembered. He held you as close as he possibly could, nearly crushing you. But you didn't mind. Welcoming his warm embrace.
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You had class early the next day, a weekend course that was unfortunately mandatory. So you dressed quickly, hoping not to wake him. Thoggh, you realized you failed when you heard stirring from the bed just as you picked up your discarded shoes. You turned to see him blinking away sleep. He looked cute with his hair still messy, bare torso and arms covered by a messily draped bed sheet.
And you enjoyed waking up in his embrace too. His arm resting as a pillow under your head as you slept on your side, as his other arm was draped around your waist.
"Going somewhere?" His voice was a low rasp, rough with sleep.
You managed a small, apologetic smile. "I’ve got a nine a.m. lecture every Saturday."
Dick’s gaze narrowed slightly, the hint of a frown on his lips. "It’s six."
"I know," you murmured, glancing down at your clothes—a crumpled, half-worn version of last night’s outfit. "But I’ve got to go home first. I can’t exactly show up like this."
He pushed himself up, revealing the full view of him in the early light, looking both effortless and undeniably inviting. "I’ll drive you."
"You don’t have to," you said, shaking your head quickly. "I already called an Uber-"
"Cancel it."
"It’s...already here," you replied, lifting your phone. "ETA one minute."
A flicker of something - was that disappointment? - crossed his blue eyes, but he only shrugged. "Alright."
The silence that followed felt heavy, pressing against you as you avoided his gaze. "Thank you for yesterday," you said finally, your voice quieter. "It was... fun."
His lips twisted into a teasing smirk. "You know, you could’ve woken me up for another round."
You let out a soft, half-sarcastic laugh. "You looked peaceful. I didn’t want to ruin that."
He snorted, leaning back, the look in his eyes lingering as he watched you slip on your shoes.
"See you around," you murmured, already halfway out of the bedroom, the words feeling less like a promise and more like a polite exit.
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Twice in one week. You hesitated the moment you stepped into the bar with your fellow interns, their laughter and voices fading as they moved toward a round table further in.
You knew better than this. You were an adult, and when you’d agreed to that night with him, you both understood it was just that - one night. But try as you might, logic hadn’t stopped your body from betraying you. Your breath hitched, and an ache tightened in your chest as your gaze fell on a too-familiar face.
There he was, leaning casually against the wall, lips pressed to someone else’s in a way that was both effortless and intimate. His hands traced her back with the same warmth you’d felt only nights ago.
And suddenly, that story he told you about the pub became just that, a story. Just like any other man had told you to get in your pants. A means to an end. You mentally admonished yourself, disbelief at falling for yet another one.
You swallowed hard, feeling the sting of something you couldn't quite name. You’d told yourself it didn’t mean anything. But here, watching him so easily entwined with someone else, you couldn't help but feel discarded. Hurt.
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