#Titans dick grayson x reader

[urrockstar-xe]

Valentine's Day with Dick Grayson :)

posted feb 11th, 2024 1:19 am

I'm so behind on V Day fics omg!! so while I write the ones I've missed, here's a sweet little headcanon I thought up :) - xox xe

If there's anything Dick Grayson is known for, it's that he's a total Romantic.

My personal headcanon? Valentine's Day is his favorite Holiday.

You can expect every big gesture you could think of, I'm talking big beautiful bouquet, the fancy box of chocolates, rose petals on the bed. All of it.

he takes you to an overpriced fancy restaurant just to give you the chance to dress up together.

Dick easily convinces you to go dancing, you blame the charisma of course. and that damned smile.

"C'mon, sweetheart, for me?"

you folded like a lawn chair.

Not that anyone blamed you, all those Wayne Gala's did the man some good, you two would be the center of attention the entire night whether you liked it or not.

Though it was hard to dislike anything that came with days like this.

Dick was always so affectionate to you but on Valentine's day? You had received ten times the affection you typically did and that was just by breakfast.

hand kisses, soft touches, stolen kisses any chance he could find, touching your waist every time he passed you, anything if it meant touching you.

Did I mention he'd buy you flowers? I mean like, a bouquet for your nightstand, "So you can see something almost as stunning as yourself every morning and every night."

A bouquet for your table, "for an energy boost during meals together, of course."

And you couldn't forget the one needed for the coffee table, obviously. "To focus on when our trashy reality TV nights get too overwhelming."

I mean seriously, some of those reality show fights could be solved so easily with communication.

Dick spends the entire night before on patrol talking through his comms about "the big V-day" (that Jason so lovingly refers to as "Virgin Day") talking on and on about his plans to surprise you.

It never takes long for Jason and Tim to get sick of it but Barbara thinks it's sweet.

and though he'd never admit it, Bruce can't help but think so too.

masterlist

#dick grayson x reader #titans dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x you #dick grayson x y/n #dick grayson x female!reader #dick grayson headcanon #dick grayson fanfiction #dick grayson fluff #nightwing x reader #nightwing x you #titans dick grayson x you

[stararch4ngelqueen]

Quick Maintenance

Time Written - 11:42 p.m

(Idk where I was going with this, so it isn’t proofread.)

—

Your heavy eyes blinked, slipping in an out of mental focus from the soft snip snip near your right side. Minor tufts of wet hair trickled down your shoulder, sliding along your freshly washed graphic shirt.

“Stay still, baby,” he murmurs, tilting your chin up to keep a level field as focused eyes squinted to study his work.

Calloused hands held thin, little shears he pulled out from the bathroom drawer, snipping away at little uneven pieces of hair he left unchecked.

Work, school, the sheer stress of wondering what kind of person you were in this world would get to you. You weren’t always like this, priding yourself on not caring what the world thought, meanwhile beaming like a ray of sunshine to all those who knew you once you stepped out the door.

One of the toughest enemies you could ever face in your lifetime, who knows every gruesome detail of your agony, every weak bone in your body, holding each detail of your flawed skin to memory, was the teary eyed person that stared back at you in the mirror.

Some days you barely had the strength to get out of bed, brush your hair, or get some water.

If you didn’t have a bodyguard of a worrisome, golden retriever boyfriend leading you towards the bathroom for a haircut, bedrotting would’ve remained a much easier task.

Dick didn’t force you to cut your hair, the idea came to you before you took a shower. Maybe a minor change was needed, something new within your control to make you feel a little better. You came to him after your long, hot shower with said offer, the man slouched on the couch with brow raised.

“Can you help me cut my hair?” You asked, presenting him with some old scissors you fished out from under the sink.

What an offer to receive on such a late evening. Dick never felt happier to see you out of bed, hair wet and changed into a pair of fresh clothes. All anxiety for you melted off his shoulders, sparing his thumbnails from being chewed on a second longer.

“Of course,” he rises from the couch, said old scissors now in his hand. Now, he sat you ontop of the toilet, gently tilting your head side to side with care to make sure every cut was as clean and even as possible.

A favor for a favor, he thought. You helped him cut his hair when it looked way too outgrown to your liking, way past ‘sexy mullet,’ in obvious words. Nowadays, keeping his hair at jawline was both for preference and convenience, though maintenance would’ve been a pain if not for you.

You offered to cut it for him the first few times, he always questioned why. Gotham cuts hair starting at at least twenty five dollars, which he could obviously afford, but having your pretty fingers run through his locks? He’s trusted no one else since.

“Twenty five bucks is twenty five bucks.”

“Twenty five bucks could be spent on dinner for your stylist,” you’d muse, cute brows bowed in deep concentration on getting the length just right. Your prized perfectionist skills left him feeling in good hands.

“I’m proud of you, y’know,” he says to you, voice lowered to a concentrated level that soothed your ears. Any accomplishment you do on one of your bad days was a gold star in Dick’s book.

His support of soft, comforting words of praise acted like a chamomile balm on a soothing ache. Your mind eventually would be soothed, lulling you into a state of affection he provided so well, sometimes reducing you to tears.

“Though, I’m a little disappointed you didn’t use my body wash.” He mumbles, now using some smaller, much thinner scissors to catch the tiny wisps he missed, taking after your perfectionist tendencies.

A trickle of a smile lasted a few seconds on your lips. “Today didn’t feel like a ‘sea salt and cedar’ day, Richie.”

“Guess that’s fair, least you’re wearing my shirt,” his cheeky grin was contagious, your heart warming at the joy that erupted in his eyes in witness to your gorgeous smile.

“There. All done, beautiful.” Dick concludes, brushing remnants of hair off your shoulder before his thumb stroked along your cheekbone, planting a kiss on your forehead.

A short two step to the bathroom sink left you staring at yourself in the mirror once more, your desired length now becoming reality.

In all honesty, you didn’t exactly like the length of the haircut. Picturing it differently in your mind had you assuming more grand expectations on the outcome.

It wasn’t all new, but it was different, a good different. A good, new you, one you’d appreciate and cherish, because that’s what you always deserved.

Besides, Dick Grayson, your puppy eyed golden retriever would make sure you were satisfied with the outcome. How could you say you didn’t like it to such a handsome face? Impossible.

“How’s takeout sound?” He questioned, watching your hands busy themselves by brushing through your new hair, feeling visibly softer along your fingertips.

“I’m thinking … something spicy.” He slips an arm over your front accompanying a soft squeeze, gifting you a smile through the mirror’s reflection. “It feels like a spicy day, yeah?”

“Anything Sounds delicious,” you admitted, your body recognizing and remembering what hunger felt like after hours of feeling numb under soft blankets and pungent silence.

“Gotcha, I’ll call up a place.” Dick steps to the side, allowing you room before reaching for the sink drawer.

“Where’d you get these scissors, anyway? They’re so tiny.”

“Oh,” you quickly recall the memory, an event quite a long while ago while on an essentials stop at a local corner side pharmacy.

“Accidentally forgot to pay for them,” you hesitantly admit, recalling the particular day. Maybe you’d forgotten to pay for an eyebrow kit that came with an adorably small pair of gold trimming scissors.

“My girlfriend, the thief,” Dick repeats with feigned surprise, shaking his head in mocked disbelief.

“Ima have to report you for this,” he smirks, glancing at you out the corner of his eye. “How much were these, anyway?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “Like, seven bucks?”

“Huh,” Dick clicks his tongue before plopping said scissors back into their designated drawer, promptly sliding it shut.

“Seven bucks is seven bucks.”

#dick grayson x female!reader #titans dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x reader #dick Grayson #gotham knights dick grayson #dick grayson x you #dick grayson x y/n #richard grayson x reader #richard grayson #interesting way to announce I was hella sad and cut my hair but here we are

[calliesadeckis]

Hi! Love your work, could you write a dick Grayson fanfic abt him and a quiet female reader warming up to each other (set between season 1 and 2)?

yes, of course!!!! god, i've wanted to write for titans on here so bad i just didn't have the inspo so thank you<333

—

talk to him

titans dick grayson x fem!reader

sunmary: you weren't exactly much of a people person. especially since you were 1 of 2 adults living in a huge tower in san francisco, watching over 3 kids you don't really talk to outside of training. and the only other adult being closed off so who knows what'll happen when he decides to talk to you out of no where

cw: not much, there's just some fluff with a teaspoon of angst because of communication issues (they both suck at small talk and beyond)

a/n: idc what anyone says about this show, it's given me so much comfort and a lot of fun and likable characters. so i'm so glad i can write for them as long as you guys send requests for them. as well as other characters from other shows like yellowjackets and etc. also i love dick grayson, even though he can be a bit annoying in this show (that i can admit) but he's hot so ajsjfndmfmf. also, i'm sorry it took sooooo long, writers block got to me badly these past few months, so i apologize if it's cringey and awkward. but i do give the benefit the doubt here because this story is suppose to be like that (also the fact i'm projecting my "bad at small talk" trait here). two grown adults that can't seem to have a normal conversation, like at all

masterlist

after the trigon incident you were dragged in by circumstance, you were the only other adult to volunteer to help dick with... whatever he was doing. you didn't have any life to go back to anyways, and you made a connection to everyone else so why part ways and it be unlikely to see them again. sure, you weren't particularly close with the kids, but, what are you supposed to do in order to bond with them? so that left dick in titans tower, but he wasn't as much of a talker as you outside of training.

everyday for the past few weeks have been, eat, train, sleep, repeat on a loop, no 'how was your day' questions, because the days are always the same so there wasn't any point of asking. and you could tell the kids were getting bored of it, very fast, and you could not blame them. being stuck in a repeating pattern with nothing else happening started getting old after the first couple weeks. so, you didn't really know how long it would take til something changed, it couldn't be like this forever.

during this time, you admired the grayson from afar, he was attractive, what else could you say? you weren't an idiot. and you also were aware of his previous entanglements with kory and you didn't wanna be involved in that. and, well... you felt like a teenage girl having a crush on a guy who was going through some shit, so it was better not to bother him.

and not being much of a talker doesn't make the conversation about feelings be any better. like, maybe this was attraction and nothing more? you were aware of the difference between liking someone physically and liking them emotionally (specifically in a romantic sense). but even as you admired him, you learn things about him, paying attention to the little things. deep down, he cared for other people, if he didn't, he wouldn't have taken rachel in and helped her, and he wouldn't have done the same for gar or jason either. people just have their own way of showing their love and care.

but your admiring wasn't exactly subtle. rachel had noticed it when you were looking at dick from across the room, talking with jason. the roth wasn't sugarcoating anything when it came to this, "you keep staring, you're probably gonna be capable of shooting lazers from your eyes." and you knew she was joking around but she caught you by surprise, making you face the young girl. "why is it any of your business?"

"because it's kind of sad seeing you pine for him like this." she points out, "and also, gar and jason made a bet whether or not you'd confess. we have eyes, you know?" and she lightly bumped your shoulder with hers with a smile on her face, "and i'm sure dick feels the same way, though he's not very good of showing it."

"that is ridiculous." you shake your head, "one, i don't like him. not like that. i just think he's cool."

"are you sure about that?" the roth rose her eyebrow, "talk to him." but you were not moving from where you were so rachel decided to take matters into her own hands, she then gave you a push (a literal one) towards him, and now you couldn't run away. all you could say was, "hey..."

"hey." he responded. jason just stood there awkwardly in between the two of you, "okay, well uh—" he pretends to look at a watch that's not even on his wrist, "look at the time, i must be going." and he had immediately ran out of there before dick tried to stop him. there was an silent pause and you were trying to figure out what to say, but before you could, he asks, "do you want some coffee?" all you did was nod. after that, there was even more silence, you two haven't had a conversation that wasn't training related in like, a while. it just felt like you were both strangers who didn't know each other nor were you fond of one another.

"you're just as bad at small talk as i am, huh?" you finally had spoken up. and dick just shook his head, "i don't know what you're talking about, i know how to make small talk."

"oh really?" you rose up your eyebrow, "okay mr. 'i know how to make small talk', what do you wanna talk about? and please, don't let it be training related. because if i have to hear you talk about that one more time, my head is gonna explode." you tried to look irritated, but he could notice a small smile on your face. then he immediately went into the 'deep, emotional' stuff, "you never told me why you came here. you just did, and i'm surprised you stuck around as long as you have."

you answered it anyway, because why not, "well, it's not like i have anywhere else to go." you set down your drink, making direct eye contact at him, "besides, the second i got here, and realized how big this place is and i have my own room... what, did you expect me to pass it up?" and you ended up making him laugh, which was surprising, "what is so funny, i'm just being honest." you were unsure why he was laughing, so you just took a sip of your coffee. he explained, "your honesty is refreshing, that's all."

"really?" and he nodded as a reply. you just sighed, taking your coffee and leaving. it's not like you had anything else to talk about and just sitting there would make it more awkward, so you just left. does it make it any less weird? absolutely not.

you guys didn't talk much after in the next few days, up until you decided to play hero on solo when you see a woman getting mugged by this guy in a mask. it was like one of the many movie cliches that you see brought into reality.

too bad it didn't turn out like expected, where you got shot in the leg. thankfully, the kids were able to track you down and bring you to the infirmary, gar was trying his best to patch you up and rachel was there for emotional support. as for jason... there wasn't much else he can do than just stand watch, up until dick had walked in with a worried expression, and the three teens immediately rushed out of there as soon as he walked in the room. you could've left if you wanted too but, obviously you couldn't.

"jesus fuck, you could've gotten yourself killed, what were you thinking?" all of his emotions were being let out in that moment, it was the most emotion you've seen him express towards you in like... ever. yet you couldn't help but be a bit sarcastic, "yeah, keep yelling... it's not like i'm literally a few feet away from you or whatever."

dick sat on the edge of the bed and started to explain, "sorry, it's just... when i heard what happened, i didn't know how to feel, or express it correctly." he gently set his hand on your injured leg, softly, "just if anything happened to you, i—"

"i'm tougher than you think, grayson." you reassured him, and you noticed a tiny smile creeping up on his face.

"i know it's just... i don't wanna lose anyone else."

you lean up a bit to set your hand on his shoulder, "i'm not going anywhere, dick." you then stopped for a second as you come to realize, "and we just had a conversation that didn't involve small talk. maybe i should get myself hurt more often." you were obviously joking at that last part, but dick's reaction to it was priceless, "i'm kidding. you are just... not what i expected."

"the feeling is mutual."

a part of you wanted to kiss him, that it felt right, but another part was saying how the timing of it all wasn't. and maybe these feelings you're having are actually real. because now, there was something in your heart that was growing that wasn't just admiration, and it felt weird, but a good weird.

maybe when the timing is right, they'll get to it, but until then, your growing friendship in the moment is enough for now.

#titans #dc titans #dc titans x reader #titans x reader #dick grayson x reader #titans dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x you #dick grayson x y/n #dick grayson imagine #jaiden writes things #maydayforus

[cipheress-to-k-pop]

Tell Me Something (Drabble)

Pairing: Dick Grayson as Robin x Reader (Drabble)

A/N: Daddy's getting hot at the daily bugle body shop

"Tell me something." Dick murmured, hands grazing over your thighs as you climbed into his lap, knees on either sides of his hips. You hummed and leaned in to kiss him lightly.

"I can tell you a secret." You said, remembering a particular bit of juicy gossip you had been waiting to tell him. When you were reminded, you couldn't help the giggles that began leaving you.

"Alright, go ahead."

Your eyes raised in mock offense, "What? No payment? Even the thugs in Gotham get paid better for information."

He chuckled, cupping your cheek with one hand and pulling you in for a long kiss. You sighed happily and gently threaded your fingers through his hair, overwhelmed by the scent of his shampoo.

When you pulled away, he was giving you a lazy smile which you returned, softly capturing his lips one last time before pulling away.

"Are you gonna tell me now?"

You nodded, readjusting yourself in his lap and resting your hands on his chest, "Remember that internship I did at the Daily Bugle?"

He chuckled at your bright grin, "Those three weeks where you were so far away from me I could feel my heart breaking in my chest with each passing second? Hm, not at all."

Your eyes softened at him. He was always so cute, it had your stomach turning into knots. He was rewarded for his sweetness with another kiss.

"Well, I got a piece of juicy gossip about a certain reporter while I was there."

"Are you gonna tell me? Or are you gonna keep dancing around the topic when it looks like you're clearly going to explode if you don't—"

"Clark has a reputation for being the office slut!" You exclaimed happily, bursting into flurries of giggles after that and he was so dumbstruck that he couldn't even respond for a good second.

"What?"

Your giggles trailed off as you nodded, "Well, he's always having one on one interviews with so many heroes and famous people like Wonder Woman and Oliver Queen. And they've seen him come out of his office with messy hair, buttons done incorrectly on his shirt and some even ripped off." You explained, smirking at the implication and double meanings that only the two of you would understand.

He was laughing hard, gripping your thighs as he leaned his head back on the couch. You smiled at him, leaning in to place a warm kiss on his neck before you pulled away again.

"It gets better."

"How could it possibly—"

"They think he's having an affair with someone." You began, pursing your lips to try and control your giant smile and Dick felt butterflies erupt from his stomach at the sight of you. You were so gorgeous, smiling brightly at him while you tried to make him laugh.

"With who?"

"Well, who does he meet very often? Someone who always seems like they're hiding something? Someone who is painfully single because of the unrequited love with a married reporter?"

His eyes widened and an evil smirk spread on his face, "You don't mean—"

You cackled, slapping your hands on his chest, "Superman's having an affair with your dad!"

#dick grayson #dick grayson fanfic #dick grayson fluff #dick grayson headcanon #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x you #titans dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x y/n #Young Justice #young justice fic #young justice oneshot #young justice x reader #young justice imagines #young justice imagine #robin x reader #robin headcanon #robin #nightwing x reader #yj x reader #batfam x reader

[your-local-simp-writers]

Stepping Outside the Box

Word Count: 1218

Warnings: None

Dick Grayson x Fem!Reader ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Happy Harbor High School buzzed with excitement as the final performance – a culmination of months of hard work – approached. Among the students, you stood out as a star dancer in the drama department, your graceful movements and captivating performances earning you a well-deserved reputation.

Dick Grayson, equally well-known, exuded an infectious energy that attracted attention wherever he went. With a sanguine personality, he easily charmed his peers with his humor and charisma. While not particularly known for his dancing skills, Dick's willingness to take on challenges and his ability to turn any situation into a memorable one made him endearing in his own way.

On an ordinary day, you found yourself in class, focusing on your notes as the teacher called your name, along with Dick's. You had been paired up for the final class project, a performance that held immense weight in your final grades. The task was to create a performance that masterfully blended dance and drama, leaving the rest of the class to watch and learn.

"You and Dick are up first," the teacher announced, her voice cutting through the chatter.

Your heart raced as you and Dick made your way to the front of the class. This project marked a new level of collaboration, and a mixture of excitement and apprehension coursed through you.

As the teacher explained the project, you exchanged a surprised glance with Dick. This was an opportunity for both of you to showcase your strengths and create something unique together.

"You're the star dancer, Y/N," Dick whispered, a hint of nervousness in his voice.

"And you're the charismatic charmer," you replied with a small smile. "Together, we've got this."

With the explanation over, the two of you got to work. Brainstorming sessions and rehearsals became part of your routine, and it was during these moments that the dynamics of your partnership truly began to emerge.

"I'm thinking we start with a graceful ballet routine," you suggested one day, your enthusiasm evident. "Then, we transition into a contemporary dance that captures the emotions of the scene."

Dick leaned back in his chair, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "How about this? We start with a jaw-dropping acrobatic sequence, something that instantly grabs everyone's attention. Then, we transition into a dance routine that's a mix of humor and heartfelt moments."

You blinked, taken aback by his suggestion. "Wait, seriously? You want to start with acrobatics?"

Dick's grin widened, his eyes alight with excitement. "Absolutely. Acrobatics, then dance. Trust me, Y/N, this will be unforgettable."

You hesitated, not entirely convinced. "I'm not sure, Dick. Acrobatics aren't exactly my strong suit."

He leaned in playfully. "Come on, Y/N, you're an incredible performer. And I promise I'll help you nail the acrobatic part."

With a sigh, you realized that Dick's enthusiasm was hard to resist. "Alright, fine. But remember, if this backfires, we're both in trouble."

Dick laughed, his laughter infectious. "Deal. But I promise you won't regret it."

As the days turned into weeks, you found yourself navigating the challenges of blending acrobatics and dance with Dick's vibrant energy. Your grace clashed with his audacity, leading to moments of missteps and laughter-filled attempts that echoed through the school's gymnasium.

"I swear, if I have to attempt one more somersault, I might lose it," you declared one afternoon, collapsing onto a gym mat with a mock sigh.

Dick plopped down beside you, his shoulders shaking with laughter. "Hey, it's all part of the process, right?"

You rolled your eyes, a reluctant smile tugging at your lips. "I suppose so."

As the performance date drew near, the most critical decision you faced was the transition from acrobatics to dance. This moment held the potential to elevate or derail the entire performance.

"I still think we should start with ballet," you insisted, your voice full of conviction. "It's a classic way to set the tone."

Dick shook his head, his grin playful. "And I still believe a jaw-dropping acrobatic display is the way to go. Trust me, Y/N, it'll be a showstopper."

You stared at him incredulously, your competitive spirit ignited. "Are you trying to out-charm me into submission?"

He laughed, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Okay, maybe a little. But seriously, Y/N, we need a strong start to capture everyone's attention."

With a sigh, you begrudgingly agreed, acknowledging the strength in his argument. "Fine, but you better deliver on your promise."

Dick's grin widened, his eyes brimming with confidence. "I promise, you won't regret it."

The day of the performance arrived, bringing with it a mixture of excitement and nerves. Backstage, you and Dick stood side by side, dressed in your performance attire, your hearts racing.

"Dick, are you sure about this?" you asked, a hint of apprehension in your voice.

He turned to you, his blue eyes unwavering. "Absolutely. Trust me, Y/N."

And so, the moment arrived. As the lights dimmed and the music began, you and Dick took the stage. The acrobatics and dance flowed seamlessly, a mesmerizing blend of skill and charisma that left the audience captivated.

The performance reached its climax, and as the final note hung in the air, the crowd erupted in applause. You and Dick stood side by side, breathless but triumphant, sharing a knowing smile that spoke of the shared journey and success.

Backstage, amidst the cheers and congratulations, Dick turned to you with a grin that radiated pride. "Y/N, that was incredible!"

You laughed, a mixture of relief and exhilaration coursing through you. "You were right, Dick. It worked."

As the celebrations continued, you realized that your journey with Dick had been about more than just a performance. It had been a lesson in collaboration, in embracing differences, and in forming connections that transcended expectations. But above all, it had been a lesson in friendship – a friendship that had been born from challenges, laughter, and a willingness to step outside your comfort zones.

As the sun began to set, casting a warm glow over the horizon, you found yourselves on the school's rooftop – a place that had become a symbol of your journey.

"Who would've thought that the popular dancer and the charismatic charmer could make such a great team?" Dick mused, his tone light.

You smiled, leaning against the railing. "Funny how things turn out, right?"

He turned to you, his blue eyes filled with a mixture of gratitude and sincerity. "Thank you, Y/N. This whole experience... it meant a lot."

You met his gaze, warmth spreading through your chest. "You're welcome, Dick. And thank you, too. You reminded me that sometimes, stepping outside our comfort zones leads to the most amazing discoveries."

He grinned, a playful glint in his eyes. "Who knows? Maybe next time, we'll tackle the trapeze!"

You laughed, shaking your head. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves."

As the sun dipped below the horizon, you realized that your journey with Dick Grayson had been about more than just a dance performance. It had been a lesson in collaboration, in embracing the unexpected, and in forming connections that defied stereotypes and expectations. But above all, it had been a lesson in the power of friendship – a friendship that had blossomed in the most unexpected of places and had left an indelible mark on both your hearts.

#dick grayson #dick grayson fanfic #dick grayson fluff #dick grayson headcanon #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x you #titans dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x y/n #Young Justice #young justice fic #young justice oneshot #young justice x reader #young justice imagines #young justice imagine #robin x reader #robin headcanon #robin #nightwing x reader #yj x reader #batfam x reader #bman #batman #batkids #x fem!reader #x female y/n #scenario #fluff #wholesome #x female reader

[websterss]

𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐘𝐒𝐎𝐍

𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐒: ‣ Lacy @arkhamknightz​​ ✻ ‣ Patching up Dick Grayson would include @herstarburststories​

​𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐒:

‣

𝐉𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐎𝐃𝐃

𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐒: ‣

​𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐒:

‣

𝐉𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒

𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐒: ‣

​𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐒:

‣

‣ 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐓𝐎: 𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐒

#dick grayson imagines #titans dick grayson x reader #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson x fem!reader #titans dick grayson #dick grayson oneshot #jaime reyes imagines #jaime reyes x reader #jaime reyes imagine #jaime reyes oneshot #jaime reyes x fem!reader #jaime reyes #jason todd #jason todd imagine #jason todd imagines #jason todd x reader #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd oneshot

[spidernuggets]

Dick: "Why is Jason sobbing in his room?"

Tim: "Jason cries?"

Damian: "Todd has emotions other than unnecessary rage?"

Jason shouting from his room: "Y/N BROKE UP WITH ME"

*all heads turning to y/n

Y/n: *sighs* "No, I didn't. I just told him I can't read Pride and Prejudice with him today"

Jason: "THAT'S WHAT I JUST SAID"

#jason todd #red hood #jason todd is my life #jason todd x reader #titans jason todd #dick grayson #dc titans #jason todd titans #red hood x reader #i love jason todd #damian wayne #tim drake #robin #red robin #nightwing #batfam

[angelskvll]

#VENOM!

pairing: dick grayson x chubby afab!reader

word count: 800+

summary: dick comes home from a very long night, after encountering poison ivy, he can’t seem to think straight when all he can smell is you…

warnings: HEAVY SMUT!! sex pollen, dick has a big.. erm well.. dick, BREEDINGGGG, slight degradation, pet names (princess, sweetheart, baby, etc.), dom!dick, sub!reader, dick calls reader a fleshlight (lovingly ;p), dick's lwk a lil' mean in this but it's ok he loves you ;3

authors note: lawddd hold me back this man is bouta make me combust like all over his face SOMEONE HELP ME

“Fuckin’ hell-” Dick groaned lowly as he gripped your hips tighter, pulling your plush body back into his harsh thrusts. 

Nights like this would normally have this outcome. Dick would come home, late at night after a patrol, looking and being frustrated as anyone would be, leaving you to be his relief.

But tonight.. Wasn’t one of those nights. This wasn’t calm, or half assed thrusts into your sopping cunt as you both lay half awake in bed, no. Dick wasn’t frustrated.. He was hungry.

“Dee! S-slow down baby-!” you squealed as your manicured hand reached back, your nails lightly brushing over his toned abdomen. 

He’d been so overcome with lust that he hadn’t even fully discarded his suit, only zipping it down the middle and off his shoulders to leave it pooling at his waist, with his mask still tied around his eyes. The white, chalky glow around his eyes hiding his irises from your view. 

He roughly grabbed your hand into his and intertwined them, a sweet gesture compared to his brutal pace he was keeping up with at the moment. 

“Mine, mine, mine..” you heard him mumble as he leaned down, cooing into your ear as he pounded you from behind, the smacking of your ass against his upper thighs echoing throughout the room. 

He moaned softly at the squelch of your cunt swallowing him, a creamy white ring surrounding the base of his cock every moment he pulled out.

“D-Dick, p-please baby-”

“Gotta breed you baby.. Show all these fuckers that you’re mine and get you pregnant. You’d like that huh? All full with my baby, my cum deep inside this needy lil’ pussy, hm? You want that princess?” You felt him smirk against your skin as he never faltered, his cock reaching so deep inside you–fuck this man would be the end of you.

He may have seemed like a sweet guy, and he definitely was.. Him in bed on the other hand, he was dirty, disgusting, nasty with the way he talked. 

“You’re my lil’ fleshlight aren’t you? Just a wet little hole to stick my dick into, huh? S’all you’re good for?” 

Tears pooled at the bottom of your eyes, your pussy throbbed at his words, no matter how offended you really were from them. 

“S-S’mean Dee..” you cooed before he lifted you up to rest your back on his chest, groping your tits in one hand as the other trailed down your plump stomach and towards your pussy. 

“Mean? I would never, baby. How could you accuse me of such a thing? All I do is treat you so fuckin’ well, don’t I?” Dick mumbled as his fingers started to toy with your clit, his middle finger rubbing the sensitive nub in circles as he continued his brutal pace on your weeping cunt. “F-fuck..” he whined as he pulled away for a moment to look down at where the two of you were connected, his cum from earlier rounds already starting to pool onto the bedsheets and trailing down your thighs. “S’good to me, ya know that? Such a good girl..” Fuck it was starting to become too much for him, but it felt so fucking good..

“G-Gonna come, Dee–fuck!” you whimpered as you fell back into the sheets with your face squished against the pillows, gripping the blanket into your hands tightly. 

“F-fuckin’ come baby, come all over this cock..” He coos through clenched teeth, his nails lightly digging into your plush skin as his thrusts sped up. 

Whiney breaths leave your throat as your climax starts building, before the coil in your tummy finally snaps, your juices gushing around him as he let out a whine and threw his head back. 

“C-Come inside me, Dick–please!” you squeal with your face squished into the pillow to muffle your needy whines as his cock twitched inside you. 

“I know baby, I know–fuckk!” he groaned as you felt him release inside you, thick ropes of his cum painting your walls a creamy white, giving a few shallow thrusts before stilling inside you, pants and heavy breathing leaving both of your lips as you sat in silence. 

Despite your best efforts and hours of him being inside you, he was still.. Unnecessarily hard..

You whine as you try to crawl away from his needy hands before he grabs you by the waist and pulls you back to flip you onto your back, a few pieces of his hair stuck to his forehead as he looks down at you with a grin painting his plush lips. Gosh it’s like he was trying to kill you.

“P-please my love, let’s rest.. M’sensitive..” you whimpered as he chuckled lightly before grabbing the back of your thighs and pushing your legs towards your chest.

“Said ya’ wanted to help me..” he cooed as he leant down with his lips ghosting over yours. 

“So, help me..”

#synful talkin’ ⛧ #dick grayson smut #dick grayson #richard grayson smut #dc comics #titans dc #dc titans #richard grayson #dick x chubby reader #chubby reader #plus size reader #pacific islander reader #brenton thwaites #dick grayson x chubby reader #x chubby reader #x plus size reader #chubby!reader smut

[kimjun]

Y/n: What are you doing here?

Damian: I could ask you the same question.

Y/n: I live here. This is my house.

Damian: I should probably ask you a different question.

#reader insert #x reader #incorrect quotes #dc x y/n #dcu #damian wayne #dick grayson #damian wayne x y/n #damian wayne x you #damian x reader #damian wayne x reader #robin damian #batfamily #incorrect batfamily quotes #batfam x reader #dc robin #dc titans #batman

[dxckgrxsonx]

Just be Quiet

Pairing - Dick Grayson x (F) Reader

Words - 0.6k

Warnings - SMUT 18+ - Graphic Sexual Content - Mean!Dick - Forced Quiet Sex - Kinda Public Sex - A little bit of Name Calling (Disgusting, Pathetic, Crybaby) - Crying - Swearing

Notes - Um hi. Let's ignore the fact I was supposed to post this last week. I drank a little too much wine, passed tf out, and then work kicked my whole ass. I simply do not vibe with being employed smh.

MASTERLIST

**

“Be quiet.” Dick snaps, his voice bordering on the lethal edge of an order and not a request. Your skin positively bristles when he shoves his hand over your mouth to muffle the desperate, involuntary noises escaping from between your chattering teeth and he growls, thoroughly fed up with your shit. “Shut your fucking mouth.”

Your thighs tremble, trapped between Dick’s firm, unyielding body and the wall. He snaps his hips forwards, forcing the full length of him into your weeping cunt with one stroke and your eyes roll straight back into your skull, body shuddering through the stretch.

“Don’t you make a fuckin’ sound.” He demands when you inhale, words vibrating in your throat, chest aching with how much you want to moan and whimper. Forcing your thighs wider with his knee he drags his cock almost all the way out before sinking back into your soaked pussy. “You just can’t help yourself, can you? I tell you not to make a sound and here you are, whining through my fingers like a brat.”

You didn't even notice you were moaning and keening and whimpering loud enough for him to hear–but you are–and it makes Dick ground out your name in a low, dangerous snarl.

It's a warning.

“I can’t fuck–I can’t help it!” You try, nearly in tears from the effort it takes to stay quiet for him. Your words are muffled against his palm and a particularly harsh thrust has you gasping his name, a long, drawn out whine chasing. “S’too good.”

Dick kisses the back of your neck then moves so he can speak directly into your ear.

“Yes you can. You’re just doing this on purpose to piss me off. Why won’t you be fucking quiet?!” Fucking into you at a rougher pace you can’t stop the desperate little noises from slipping through his fingers. “It’s almost like you want people to know I’m fucking you. Is that what it is? You want everyone to know you’re a desperate whore who likes being fucked where anyone could see you? You’re disgusting.”

Your body tries to flinch away from his punishing pace but Dick tuts disapprovingly and presses you even more firmly against the wall with his strong hips; forcing you to take every rough stroke and scathing comment from his smart mouth. He nudges your thighs apart again when you try to close them and your pussy throbs and creams against the base of his cock in desperation.

Dick scrapes the blunt edges of his teeth against your neck and you can feel the smirk pressing at his lips.

“I can feel you squeezin’ at me.” He says, sinking balls deep into your cunt and stopping just to feel you convulse around him. “You like being fucked by your Team Leader, huh? With the way you act, it’s no surprise you like this. What? You think I don’t notice. You’re more pathetic than I thought.”

Moaning into his hand you blink against the onslaught of tears and Dick feels them slide warm over the backs of his knuckles.

Your pussy is aching.

“Oh fuck. Are you crying right now?” He grunts, cock swelling and twitching inside you. “I can’t believe how sensitive you are.”

“Please!” You beg, sniffling and trying to stop yourself from crying. “Dick–plea–stop being so mean to me.”

“No.” He replies, pressing his hand over your mouth even harder so every word is barely audible. “We’re not stopping until you’re dripping with my come. And you better be fucking silent, do you hear me? My poor little crybaby. I want you to be a good girl for once and shut the fuck up because if you think I'm being mean to you now, you're in for a shock if you can't follow simple orders.”

**

The post that inspired this is -

#dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x reader smut #dick grayson x you smut #dick grayson smut #dick grayson fanfic #dick grayson fanfiction #nightwing x reader #nightwing x reader smut #nightwing smut #titans smut #titans fanfiction #mean!dick x reader #mean!dick x reader smut #ella writes

[urrockstar-xe]

some things about me! :)

I go by xe and I'm 18 in April! My pronouns are she/her, I am pansexual, and I have another account (@hugmetightlyx) that I'm inactive on.

I'm a reality shifter (shifting acc is @lovingxe)! I'm a Slytherin! and I am currently trying to fall back in love with writing fanfiction! so, here are some people I write for over here! here's my masterlist

Steve Harrington

Peter Pettigrew

Sirius Black

Remus Lupin

James Potter

(all harry potter characters will be written as they are in my desired reality!)

tasm!Peter Parker

Frank Castle

Dick Grayson

Jason Todd

JJ Maybank

Chad Meeks-Martin

Nick Amaro

moon knight boys

Pietro Maximoff

the next few characters I'm still learning how to write for! some works may be a bit OOC

Mike Schmidt (FNAF movie)

Marcus Lopez Arguello

Mattheo Riddle

Theodore Nott

some extra things!! I don't do insecure!reader stories because it triggers some old issues i have! I don't do male readers because I don't believe I'd be able to give what's needed to be given.

#tasm!peter x you #tasm!peter x reader #frank castle x reader #chad meeks x reader #chad meeks-martin x reader #jj maybank x reader #titans jason todd x reader #jason todd x reader #titans dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x reader #peter parker x reader #moon knight x reader #nick amaro x reader #marauders x reader #james potter x reader #peter pettigrew x reader #sirius black x reader #remus lupin x reader #pietro maximoff x reader #mike schimdt x reader #mattheo riddle x reader #theodore nott x reader #marcus lopez arguello x reader #marcus lopez x reader

[stararch4ngelqueen]

ngllll was listening to Partition by Beyonce and thinking of Dick Grayson and fem!reader having a bit of fun in the back of a limo 😫

Never heard that but I feel like I listened to it on a Brenton Thwaites tiktok edit 🧍🏽‍♀️

- -

You wore that dress to tease him, he just knew you did.

The silk, the low neckline leaving room for your minimalist diamond necklace. The slip along your left side, revealing a flash of glistening, moisturized skin, ankles decorated by flashy gems on your heels.

The color.

A beautiful, dark cerulean blue.

Dick could only keep his hands off you for so long, maintaining his composure as he watched you lean down to crawl inside the limousine. He told himself to keep his hands off you at the Gala, but one of his mistakes was inviting you to a dreadfully boring event.

Or, was it really a mistake?

The second the limousine began rolling out of the lot, you sat up out of your seat, reaching over to pull the privacy screen shut, boxing away your view of the driver.

He didn’t even need to question why you did that, his hands practically grasping your hips when you rose out of your seat, squeezing that gorgeous ass.

Another mistake was sitting you in his lap, ruining your perfectly done lipstick as his hands securely roam down along your back.

His gravest mistake was sliding his hand higher than the exposed slip revealed, coming to a surprise when his hand continued to glide across smooth, bare skin.

No underwear. Not even a thin, expensive thong he had bought you plenty of after ripping each one you owned.

What a shock.

“Goddamn, baby,” he grunts against your lipstick smeared lips. “You wanted this to happen, didn’t you?”

Your only response was a smirk, admiring his rustled up hair from your relentless hands. Lipstick stains smeared along his plush lips, scarcely along his chin from your eager make out.

If the limo were to drive over a speed bump, or accidentally come across a pot hole, this would mean your perfect little cunt would make a complete mess of his raging hard on, poorly hidden by his dress pants.

Now, not only does he have complete eye candy sitting in his lap; you went ahead and unwrapped yourself for his pleasure.

“You know I don’t like big parties, Dick,” you purr, manicured fingers working on undoing the buttons on his dress shirt. “You don’t wanna go either. Admit it.”

He groans, tilting his head back against the headrest while rubbing circles along your skin. Pretty little thing like you has a perfectly good head on your shoulders, and judging by how you looked at him, you eagerly wanted to give him some of it.

“No. No, I don’t.”

No way is he letting you roam along at the Gala like this. The both of you should’ve stayed home.

#sorry this is so plain #titans dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x female!reader #dick grayson x reader #dick Grayson #dc dick grayson #so like #this was done in a drive thru #guess which one

[angelltheninth]

Being friends with benefits with Bruce, Nightwing, Red Hood and Oliver Queen?

Ah I don't many requests like this for the DC characters. But I feel like I should definitely branch out.

Pairing: Bruce Wayne, Jason Todd, Dick Grayson, Oliver Queen x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, friends with benefits, hickies, cock riding, aftercare, rough sex, cunnilingus, everyone here is bad at feelings

A/N: I have some ideas for fwb with other fandoms too. Reblog, comment and all that good stuff and let me know what you think. Also DM me if you'd to get on my DC taglist.

Bruce doesn't really do friends with benefits. With him you're either in a committed relationship or you're casual. If you're his friend and you're having sex then assume you've already moved into girlfriend territory. There's no way he can look deeply into your eyes while having sex with you every night and not fall for you. He can't resist you, so you should expect that after every rough pounding there must come gentle cuddles, a very little words. When he goes really rough on you he likes to cool and wash your body with a towel, maybe leaving a few more hickies in the process, not possessive, just admiring you.

Jason likes the arrangement a lot because he doesn't have to lose you as a friend but he also doesn't have to pretend that he's not attracted to you. He's seen you openly gawking at him, he likes it, a lot and at those times he will show off a little extra just to turn you on and afterwards get on his knees to finish what he started. God you taste good on his tongue. Ride his mouth, he can take it, he can hold your legs on his shoulders all night if needed, he just wants to hear you moan for him and be free to leave afterwards with no strings attached, other then your friendship but that's a whole other story.

Dick would agree to it and like it at first but would catch feelings pretty fast. He's already very affectionate towards you and sex just amplified those emotions. It became clear to him that this type of relationship won't work. But he also doesn't want to lose you as a friend. He's conflicted, he fucks you harder then he ever has before, trying to get rid of these feelings before they overwhelm him. He can't stop, he's not getting soft, he just keeps on going until you push him away because your pussy feels so sore. Only then does he notice how many rounds it has been. He didn't mean to go this hard, he just... loves you. There he said it, finally. He's been doing it all backwards and now, now he wants you for real, sex, love, romance all of it.

Oliver has had many friends with benefits in the past. Of course he has, so he figures that it'll be no different with you. Hanging out with you, laughing and throwing jabs at each other one minute, and the next you're on top of him, riding his cock, moaning how amazing he feels, he can't help buckle under your praise, to want to give you everything. Except that wasn't how it should go, you should fuck, leave, and then act casual, that's how it always is. Just casual. No strings attached. Either he underestimated how good your pussy feels or he has a bigger heart then cock because he is giving you heart eyes when you're laying next to each other, happy and spent.

#dc comcis #dc comics x reader #dc comics smut #bruce wayne x reader #jason todd x reader #dick grayson x reader #oliver queen x reader #batman x reader #red hood x reader #nightwing x reader #green arrow x reader #dc comics x female reader #dc comics headcanons #dc comics imagine #titans x reader #titans imagine #titans headcanons #titans smut #bruce wayne smut #jason todd smut #dick grayson smut #oliver queen smut #x female reader

[pluvialpoet]

how to disappear

Summary: a reunion ten years in the making serves as a reminder that absence doesn’t always make the heart grow fonder- especially when history has a tendency to repeat itself 

Pairing: dick grayson x fem!vigilante!reader

Requested: no

Warning: nsfw!!! (18+ MDNI), porn with plot, lovers to enemies, unprotected sex, implied breeding kink, choking, angst, minor barbara gordon slander (for the plot, I swear)- do not read if you are not comfortable with the warnings listed above!!!

Word Count: 12,874

masterlist

Light reflects off the crystals that hang from the chandeliers above, and like a moth drawn to a shiny flame, you bask in the warmth of their glow. For as beautiful as the crystalline teardrops twenty-two feet overhead are, they dull in comparison to the- equal parts blinding and mesmerizing, simultaneously gorgeous, yet gaudy- diamonds that dangle from earlobes, rubies that rest against décolletages, and the pearls placed upon dainty fingers in an over the top display of money, power, and status. It’s the epitome of wealth, and though meant to allure, you find yourself disgusted by the flashy exhibitions of greed and corruption.

Every smile is artificial. Every laugh is humorless and diluted. Any feeling beyond complete and utter misery is a hoax. Yet, they play their parts. Each and every one of them continues to mingle, boast, and feign genuineness, but it’s obvious what they are, even beneath their disguises, you recognize the vultures circling the fresh carnage of the innocent- with blood on their talons and a hunger that’s never truly satiated. Do they even know what they’ve done? Do they even care? Given a chance to make amends, would any of them take it?

Revulsion counters amusement as you watch the elite interact with one another. It’s pathetic. In a room full of affluence, not a single person knows pleasure beyond material possessions, and that’s an injustice in itself. Amongst thieves, you’re the honesty that rivals them all- and that’s a scary revelation, all things considered.

Taking advantage of the large crowd, you continue to bump elbows with the rich- literally- as you weave your way through the opulent mass. A tight-lipped smile is granted when you pass an older woman, and an even wider flash of teeth catches your attention from a man around your age. Mimicking the gestures seal your fate, damning you- even if only temporarily- to this game of confusion, a game in which approval and disgust are indiscernible. Having had years to grow accustomed to the tricks of this elitist trade, it’s almost impossible to recall a simpler time. Back when you still thought there might be a modicum of authenticity behind the action, back before you were close enough to spot the invisible strings controlling the marionettes, you believed- and even hoped- that you had it all wrong. There was a time, long, long ago, when you were desperate to believe that there was still some good left in these people, but you grew out of your naivety. Now older, and wiser, you won’t make the same mistakes you once made. Under the influence of optimism, your purpose became convoluted. Not anymore.

Without anyone to dissuade you from reaching out- to challenge you from swiping a few bejeweled tennis bracelets, engagement rings, or even one or two watches and calling it a day- a thrum of urgency spreads through your fingertips. It’s an impulsive electricity you can’t deny. Besides, it’s not like social dynasties would crumble if a few diamonds went missing. If only it were that easy…

Wealth doesn’t doom these poor, unfortunate souls, but their greed- coupled with the blood on their hands- paints a distinguishable target on their backs. If you look closely, it’s impossible to miss that they’re all cut from the same cloth. A hundred different reflections of the same privileged archetype imitate the same gestures, mannerisms, and movements to a tee. An amateur would operate under the guise of distraction- causing a small scene and offering their apologies before making off with their prize- but you’re not an amateur. Not anymore. Not by a long shot. 

A few women- four or five, at most- nurse flutes of bubbling booze a few feet away. The sound of their laughter is a little too joyous to be feigned and when one of them waves a manicured hand towards a waiter, signaling another round of drinks, you start to put the pieces together. Perhaps, the ladies in your sights are the most genuine in attendance- even if they’ve lost themselves to their cups. Matching their demeanor is child’s play. Once equipped with a half-empty glass from a server on their way back to the kitchens, you stumble towards the group, plastering on the same elated- intoxicated- grin, and hope that they’re inebriated enough to be welcoming towards a newcomer. Masking the bitter taste of insincerity with a sip of prosecco, a greeting rises from the mix, but it never has the chance to come to fruition because a large hand wraps around your wrist- effectively halting your heist before it even really had a chance to begin.

You should’ve known better.

As you turn to glare at the idiot who dared to put their hands on you, your breath catches.

Two birds die from the blow of one stone, and he takes advantage of your stupor- finding that you’re more pliant in your daze- leading you away from the women you intended to rob, and into the crowd. More witnesses make it less likely for you to cause a scene. At least, that’s his logic, anyway.  While it’s not exactly flawed, it’s not all that accurate, either, but for old time's sake, you’ll play along. His hold on you remains firm, and he reaches for the flute in your hand with his other, placing it on a tray and discarding the prop. Your surprise begins to morph into anger- especially when he pulls you closer towards him as the orchestra starts to play a tune. Remembering the steps forced upon you as a child is muscle memory, and you glare daggers up at him- though, they don’t pierce nearly as deeply as the blue of his irises.

“Nice hair,” Dick revels in your obvious frustration of being thwarted, his lips curling into a smirk when your frown deepens, and he asks, “I thought you were blonde, last I saw you?”

“I was,” For the sake of maintaining appearances, you don a phony expression of your own and respond with as much benevolence as you can muster- even though you’re filled with animosity- as he leads you through the steps of the dance. “And you didn’t have a five o’clock shadow,” You note, allowing yourself a split second to take in everything that’s changed since the last time you saw him, before pressing your lips together tightly with a huff.

“Things change.” 

 As if he needed the reminder…

Chance has never meddled in your relationship. Coincidence doesn’t exist within the realm of precision both you and Dick operate from. Everything has always been on purpose, calculated and planned, never left blindly to fate or possibility- which is why this meeting isn’t an accident. As if he can feel you about to pull away, he flexes his fingers against you, tightening his grip and holding you in place. Ten years later- ten years too late- he’s found you. Not destiny, not a fluke, but with his own intention, and you wish that he would’ve just stayed away.

“What are you doing here, Dick?” As you abandon your costume, your smile falls away to reveal genuine loathing as you force the question from behind gritted teeth. Still, despite your obvious disdain, he doesn’t let you go. “Last I checked, you were in San Francisco- and more recently, Blüdhaven. You’re not supposed to be here.”

“You keeping tabs on me?” His amusement contradicts your revulsion, and a shallow breath purges the threat of an outburst. Dick has always had a way of getting under your skin, of pushing your buttons and doing everything he possibly could to make you tick, but the sudden onslaught of such juvenile taunting fills you with a fire not even he can extinguish- not anymore. Despite his charming exterior, the steady flow of his breath, and the easy grin of confidence that was once impossible not to mirror, dampness swells where your palms meet, and you feel the rough, raised reminders that he’s kept busy during your time apart- that he’s evolved into a stranger despite how familiar he still seems- and you wonder if he can feel it too, if he can tell just by touch, that you’re not the same girl he once knew.

“I keep tabs on everyone who might get in my way,” Your eyes narrow accusatorially, and the corner of his mouth twitches. “You’re not special.”

“That’s not what you said the last time we-“

“Yeah, well, the last time was when we were teenagers, and a lot has changed since then.” Any attempt to remain cordial flies out the window when he dares to mention the last time- like it hasn’t plagued you for a decade. Not even he possesses the antidote to the venom your words carry, and he winces slightly as your rebuttal shakes. He clears his throat softly, the sound filling the lull where an apology should sound, and he takes a look over your shoulder before meeting your eyes again.

“Any chance I can convince you not to go through with whatever it is you’re planning?” It brings little joy to watch his smile dissolve into something more serious. His face hardens, and you notice lines and creases that you aren’t well acquainted with- unable to distinguish battle scars from the divots of age- and you quickly shake the thought away. Instead, you stare at him blankly, not revealing an answer. Though, he takes your lack of conversation as a reply, and with a heavy sigh, he shakes his head, “Yeah, I figured.” 

He dares to express melancholy. Stunned by his nerve, after everything, not even shame or regret could rattle his courage enough for him to reconsider such a crestfallen expression, and the discouraged twist of his lips and the downcast slant of his eyes are so pronounced and dramatic that you’re unable to discern whether or not this is part of a ruse, or his genuine reaction.

“Did you think that would work?” Your skepticism is muddled with ridicule, a mocking scoff filling the line meant for his counter. It’s almost laughable- the nerve he has to look dejected by your questioning. To be fair, it’s been a while since he’s danced this dance- a routine once familiar, consisting of bite and bark, push and shove, before simultaneous defeat and victory-  but he’s smart enough to know that that’s not how this works. “I mean what did you think would happen, birdy? I’d take one look at you, all grown and handsome, and reconsider my plans?”

Even in heels, he’s taller than you remember. He’s always been pretty- all mesmerizing eyes, slightly crooked smile, and sunkissed skin- but not even he was immune to the awkwardness brought forth by puberty. There was a time when he thought his shoulders were too broad, his ears too big, and the angular structure of his face too sharp and strong for a boy. It didn’t look right. Features that were admirable on their own, looked out of place on his face- or so he feared. You always thought he was beautiful- especially when he didn’t know it.

Now, Boy Wonder is all grown up, exuding confidence and oozing charm. He knows he’s attractive, but he doesn’t parade his arrogance- not anymore. His early twenties were a never-ending roller coaster of trying to find himself, his purpose, and where he fit into the grand scheme of things. Conflicted by right and wrong, tempted by lust and surrender, divided by good and evil, he’s had a lot of time to awaken from the grogginess inflicted by nightmares of freedom and liberation. Still, his eyes are just as mesmerizing, his teeth are straight- but his smile is still crooked- and he’s truly grown into himself. The man before you is a boy evolved- still a bird, but with a different set of wings. Robin is an old friend, a fond recollection of a different time, and though the stranger before you mimics the familiarity you’ve longed for, he’s not Robin, anymore- he’s Nightwing.

“Look, they’re anticipating for you to strike,” His warning is low and hushed, but even in whispers you’re able to detect his plea. Call it concern, or at the very least interest in serving justice as quietly as possible, but his timbre urges you to reconsider- if not for his sake, then for the sake of those around you. He really doesn’t want to cause a scene. “Security has been tripled, and you’ve grown sloppy-“

“Did you ever consider that the trail I was leaving behind wasn’t for anyone else but the one person I wanted to find me?” There’s no affection behind the way your fingers thread through the dark tresses at the nape of his neck. Without any fondness, without passion, or care, the action is mindless, meaningless, and merely muscle memory. There’s no repressed feelings you wish to convey, no animosity you’re trying to diffuse. With no hidden agenda, the gesture serves no purpose- except to unintentionally torture you both. Old habits die hard, and something undefined urges you to reach for him. He flushes, and the sight is so droll that you can’t bring yourself to stop. His lips part once, twice, three times, trying to produce an answer, but he’s at a loss. When you cock your head to the side, he tenses. “Of course, you didn’t,” You purr, and he clears his throat softly. 

Dick’s no stranger to berating. He knows what it feels like to be chastised, scolded, and reprimanded. This exchange feels similar. The only difference is that you don’t raise your voice, your eyes don’t darken and you don’t threaten him- not with words, at least. If anything, the remark feels like a gentle rebuke, but the sting left from the impact of your insult brands him with shame. You’ve always seen right through him. Easily able to discern real from fake- truth from falsity- under both his domino mask and the hardened mask of his stoic expressions, you’ve always had a knack for exposing his most vulnerable self- welcoming his flaws, humility, and weaknesses to light. Even though he’s not the same kid he was when you first crossed paths, he feels just as naive and guileless as the boy he once once. 

“You and the bat were never really known for considering every angle,” Spoken so thoughtfully, he’s almost able to forgive the verbal assault. As intended, the blow lands- precise, heavy, and unforgiving in the center of his chest- and the muscles in his jaw tighten with thinly veiled frustration. It seems, that in the moment he needs his voice the most, it evades him. He swallows consonants and vowels, a jumbled mix of letters that sit heavy atop his palate, and focuses on maintaining his composure- though, his steps are a beat behind and his footing seems, suddenly, unsure. You’ve struck a nerve. Whether or not you intend to wound, the damage is already done. Picking at scabs that should’ve scarred a long time ago cause his insecurities to bleed- a punch more lethal than brute strength and weaponry combined. 

Blindsided by the truth, he feels utterly defenseless.

“Can I ask you something, Dick?” Your brows barely pinch together, your voice calm and steady as something softens in your gaze. Dick should know better than to let his guard down- especially when you lean in, and your lips brush against his ear, “If you’re the hero, here to save the day, does that make me the villain?” 

“No, you’re not-“

“How about this, which is the lesser of two evils- knowing that you’re protecting a corrupted establishment because it’s what you believe to be morally correct, or taking back what was wrongfully stolen and returning it to its rightful owners?” As you tilt your head to the side, he hates the way that you look up at him through your lashes. It’s not a demure move. You’re demanding an answer, and a look like that- a look meant to allure, tempt, and bait- would have a weaker man spilling his deepest darkest secrets. With a sharp inhale, he reminds himself that the tricks up your sleeve aren’t new. He knows all of the cards you’re going to play- albeit, he’s unaware of the order in which you’re going to play them- and he won’t allow history to repeat itself. Purposely, your thumb caresses the back of his hand- the touch feather-light, but far from hesitant or accidental- and his breath hitches. Dick doesn’t undermine the small, sinister smile that threatens to spread into a victorious grin when he fails to answer your question. Perhaps, he doesn’t know the answer. Or, perhaps, he’s just distracted. Either way, your voice fills the absence of his own. “We’re not on different sides of a playing field, Grayson. You and I aren’t on opposite ends of a spectrum, we’ve always been right in the middle- dancing on a thin line.” 

Prompted by the soothing symphony of strings, Dick twirls you- delicately extending his arm and leading you into a spin before pulling you back in- and it’s fitting, the push and pull between you so familiar it almost feels as choreographed as the steps of the waltz you’re dancing.

History repeating itself, just one more time.

“We both know you’re not here to turn me in, because if you were going to, you would’ve done it by now.” Your arrogance causes something to snap within him. Clarity comes rushing back as he breaks free from your spell. Without meaning to, his grip on your hand tightens.

“Look, I understand why you’re doing this, but-“

“No, you don’t.” Like a switch being flipped, your façade shatters- revealing a face so unbridled with emotions that not even a mask could obscure. He’s defensive. Tired of grappling for control over the situation, he tastes power as he parts his lips with a clever retort, but you don’t allow him the space to get a word in. “Did you know that last year, the city council held a vote to refurbish a few run-down parks on the south side of Gotham with the hopes of restoring the communities destroyed by violence, or increasing the GCPD budget?” The heat behind your accusation pokes and prods at his curiosity, coloring him intrigued. Admittedly, he’s not the most up-to-date on Gotham’s politics, but something this large shouldn’t have slipped under his radar- or the watchful eyes of those who swore themselves to protect the beloved city.

It’s deeper than that, though.

Your frustrations, however warranted, seem to extend beyond such an injustice. Between the lines, amongst all the words you haven’t said, there’s a decipher hidden in every twitch, gesture, and glare. From the way your eyes narrow, to the sharp exhale and tightening grip of your fingertips. To sweaty palms and clenched teeth, all the way to flared nostrils- there’s something just beneath the surface that he can’t crack. Too much time has passed for him to unscramble tacitness when he no longer understands the codes in which you speak, and, unfortunately, he needs you to paint a clearer picture than the vague abstract before him.

“When it came down to it, do you think that the citizens of the south side had a say in the matter?” Dick’s smart. He’s not just a pretty face or a nice body- he’s actually got brains to match. You know- deep down- that sooner or later, shapeless pieces will fall into place to reveal the completed puzzle, but you need him to come to the conclusion all on his own. It would be easy to simply reveal your motive, and while a straightforward approach may have been less complicated than the mental gymnastics you’re forcing him to perform, it wouldn’t have been as impactful. Dick needs to understand, and to understand, he needs to feel- the same anger, outrage, and upset you felt. “Do you think the people on the other side of the tracks were given a chance to speak in front of the council?” 

“They can’t segregate who speaks publicly-“ The gears are turning- some slower, some faster, and others completely out of control as he struggles to make sense of your elusiveness. When the current song fades out, a scattered round of applause takes its place before a new song begins. Hardly anyone else is dancing, save for a handful of couples who look just about as miserable as you and Dick- without the coordination or grace, the two of you share. It takes him too long to jump to the conclusion, and you tire of waiting for him to put the pieces together on his own. He always did work better with a helping hand- though, the quality of his work declined greatly whenever your hands were involved.

“You’re right,” Your agreement further confuses him, until an additional explanation provides the last bit of clarity he’d been seeking. “But they can change the date, time, and venue of the meeting without alerting the other parties involved, parties that spent weeks building the foundations of a strong claim, and vote on the matter without them being present- subsequently, granting them access to funnel more funds back into their pensions.”

“That’s not possible,” His argument is backed by disbelief instead of reason, denial influencing his refusal to accept such an absurdity, even in spite of proof, and every ugly, undesirable, nasty feeling you’re not supposed to have swirls together in the pit of your stomach at his incredulity.

How can he still be so blind? How, after all of the evil that he’s witnessed, how can he deny the truth in favor of possibility? He may be a man grown, but he still lives in a delusional state of boyhood- where he still clings to hope and the prospect of good intentions even when the jury has already delivered a conviction.

“Why not?” You seethe, simultaneously demanding an answer without allowing him the chance to speak. Unfortunately, whatever’s been brewing amongst your insides finally bubbles over and your own reluctance to accept an outcome where he doesn’t justify your point of view sharpens the words at the tip of your tongue until they’re as lethal as any weapon. “Because good old Commissioner Gordon wouldn’t let that happen?”

It’s resentment- the concoction without a name- but it’s also envy, pain, and perhaps a bit of fear. At the very least, it’s petty, to bring her into this and force him to pick a side, but it’s been corroding your logic- eroding a place in your chest that’s been dormant ever since he last filled it with life and meaning- and you watch his demeanor shift when his lips part to defend her. You can’t bear whatever praise he’s sure to dole out in her defense, especially when she’s just as guilty as the rest of them, as far as you’re concerned. Before he has a chance to tear you to shreds with his ire, you interrupt.

“Look, just because the commissioner has a heart, doesn’t mean that the animals working for the force do.” Without any conviction, you start to claw at the mire on either side of you, closing you in. “It’s always been bad, but it’s gotten a lot worse.” He can’t argue with that. Worse doesn’t even come close to how downright doomed Gotham is now that someone’s poisoned most of the police force. The one group of people who are supposed to remain impartial to power and abide by the laws they’re sworn to uphold, have turned their backs on the people who needed them most, and the people hurting- the ones without flashy jewels or the stomachs for caviar and champagne- don’t have anyone looking out for them. 

Not the way they used to, anyway. 

“You don’t get to come here and lecture me about what’s right and what’s wrong, just because she asked you to.” Bittersweet tips towards bitter and a sour taste settles in your mouth at the suggestion that she had even the slightest part to play in your reunion. “You’re a few years too late for that, birdy.” This time when the song ends, you take a step back- though, his thumb brushes against the back of your hand before you pull away, the phantom of a silent prospect lingering even when the warmth of him is gone. Once, it was what you sought. He was what you sought. Years of desolation turned your desire for that same heat- tender touches and gentle caresses against skin- into favor of bleakness. You don’t regret pulling away from him, not as much as you did back them. This time, it’s warranted- a choice you make unobstructed by what you’re feeling, now that you know the outcome of what was fated to happen between the two of you.

“I appreciate the dance,” You swallow, your throat tightening with words you won’t allow yourself to say. Instead, a retort finds you, though it feels foreign as you speak it into existence. “Maybe we’ll do it again in a couple of years,” 

Without waiting for a reaction, you head off down the same way you came, and this time, without any intervention, he lets you go.

The bathroom door shuts behind you, and the sounds of lively chatter and the hum of instrumentals fade away until you’re consumed by a silence so stark that it buries you. It doesn’t feel real. The soft tapping of your heels against the glossy marble floors cuts through the nothingness- even the slightest echo in the void registering as an alarm, coaxing panic and fear from the rusted, forgotten cells you banished them to long ago- and when you finally take a look in the mirror, you don’t recognize the face that stares back at you.

Your reflection is plagued by guilt, and haunted by ghosts of the past. Well, one ghost, in particular.

Running into Dick Grayson was something you’d prepared for. Since the day you last parted, you always knew that there was a possibility your paths could, and inevitably would, cross again. It was destined to happen, and you were doomed from the start. He makes you reckless. He makes you sloppy and distracted and forgiving. He makes you weak. Back then, before everything that drove a wedge between the two of you, you had a bit of a soft spot for him. He was the only other person in the world who truly understood the life you lived because he was living a different version of the same life. Both protégés, both headstrong and zealous- attributes recognized as both strengths and faults- and both dancing a choreographed routine in the shadows cast by the bat and the cat. The two of you were fated. It was only a matter of time before you started pulling your punches, and he started letting you get away.

The chase was always the best part- second only to the capture.

Still, it’s been years since he left. You’re not the same girl he once knew, and he might as well have been a stranger. More than a decade apart will do that to two people. For everything that’s changed, one thing remains the same- the chase and the capture are unavoidable.

With a shaky exhale, your chest tightens. Resting your palms on either side of the expensive stone washbasin, you attempt to focus on regaining your composure- but another heavy intake of breath punches your lungs. You haven’t come this far just to let him swoop in and gain the upper hand. You’re done pulling your punches. Flipping the golden faucet on, you allow trickling water to interrupt the unbearable silence that surrounds you- a lull so loud it sounds like buzzing static without the interruption of something mundane. With a few more deep breaths, in and out, you begin to fumble with the clasp on your clutch, opening the small bag to retrieve a tube of lipstick. The color has started to fade from your lips, and you use the moment of stillness to touch up your makeup. If nothing else, maybe your reflection will look less distraught with a signature swipe of dark red. You long for a sense of familiarity that you can control.

Above the trickling from the luxurious spout, the door squeaks- or perhaps, it cries- as it’s pushed open, revealing a mirage basked in artificial light and a custom-tailored suit. As your fingertips graze the fixture responsible for the steady stream of distraction, a thud sounds, and seconds later, the unmistakable click of a lock latching into place seals your fate. A wave of emotion- a tsunami of feelings- brings forth a myriad of everything, all at once. Just as you suspected you always would, you’re drowning- caught in a riptide of your past and present, finally merging in a deadly current that threatens to pull you below the depths of your worst fears and direful imagination. You swallow thickly as you close your eyes. It fills your mouth with delusions of saltwater.

This isn’t supposed to happen- at least, not like this, it’s not- but the one thing you’ve been running from has finally caught back up to you. Now’s the time to set the record straight. No more ties. No more draws. Tonight, the victory is yours- regardless of his intervention. He’s taken too much from you to take this too, and you’re done letting him.

“I already told you that this is pointless,” You don’t even look at him. Refusing to give him the satisfaction of meeting his overbearing stare. A swirling sea of darkening blue attempts to sail back to shore- pleading to find refuge within familiar comforts and intimacy- but you cast your gaze back to your reflection, focusing on fixing the corners of your lipstick and leaving him afloat. “You’re not going to stop me.” The promise is backed by conviction- though, you’re not sure if you’re trying to convince him, or yourself.

The muscle in Dick’s jaw flexes as he grits his teeth- forcing ivories to clench and grind against each other, creating a perfect, white prison to cage the words he wishes to speak. Stifling his emotions is conventional. It’s a routine he’s perfected through years of reluctant practice. Though uncomfortable and daunting, the void in which he sentences all that’s repressed is secure. It’s safe- if only in the sense that it’s familiar.

You’re familiar- rather, you were once familiar- but he can’t cross a bridge that’s been burned, molten ash still ablaze amongst the rubble, and expect to be welcomed back with open arms. Not after everything that’s changed. Not after everything that’s happened.

Not after what he did.

“I need a list of names,” The determination in Dick’s voice contradicts everything he feels inside. His face hardens- a mask, a shield, protection- and he stands a little taller, fixated on resolving the one problem he could actually solve. “Names of the officers involved in whatever this is,” He clarifies with an uneasy edge to his voice- like he already knows he’s bit off more than he can chew, but he can’t stop himself from going back for seconds, thirds, and fourths.

For all that’s changed, Dick remains the same. A phantom- a spirit, a memory, a ghost- of the boy you once knew disappears just as quickly as your imagination teases familiar red, yellow, and green. He’s not the same. You know it to be true, and yet, you find yourself distracted by glimpses and figments from a different life entirely.

“Grab a pen,” A scoff, an eye roll, and the gentle shake of your head, disbelief and credence existing in tandem- contradicting each other when your eyes finally meet his. “It would be a shorter list if you started with the people who aren’t guilty of committing some type of fraudulent activity.”

You’re not a bad person. Despite varying beliefs, you’re not evil. Mayhem doesn’t bring you joy. Confrontation doesn’t get you off. There’s little pleasure to be found in being the itch that people can’t scratch. You’ve never sought out violence or peril, and you seldom plan on causing either. Just like Dick- just like Bruce- you operate under a different moral code, but a moral code, nevertheless. Even if the only thing it provides is an excuse to justify why you do what you do, you still hold yourself to a standard. Unlike the vile, chaos-thirsty cravens that would happily light the match and watch the world burn, you’re selfless- bound to your morals, if nothing else.

What you do, the sacrifices you make- everything that you’ve lost and everything you’ve fought for- is fueled by benevolence. You’re in a position to fight for those who can’t fight for themselves, to speak up for those who can’t speak for themselves. The power to defend those who have had their rights stripped from them- those who have had their power stolen by greed corruption and profit- is in your hands. You’ll be damned if you let anyone stand in your way and prevent you from doing what you know is right.

Through the reflection in the mirror, you recognize the face that stares back at you. Gone is the fear and doubt that mangled your features unrecognizable. With a heavy sigh, you unclip the earrings that dangle from your earlobes- and the buzzing sound of static fades away completely.

You know what you have to do.

The sound of your heels against the tile might as well have been deafening in contrast to the silence that follows your remark. As you cross the room, your resolve sharpens. Dick Grayson has taken so much from you, you won’t let him take this, too.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me-“ You feign saccharine, your tone phony and filled with counterfeit regret, as you reach for the locked door handle, but Dick blocks the latch, stepping in front of you before you have a chance to wrap your hand around the lever. He knows exactly what buttons to press and genuine annoyance, anger, and frustration fill the space where your poor imitation of remorse once occupied. Through gritted teeth, you command him, lowly, “Move, Dick.”

“You know I can’t do that, sweetheart,” He says it so easily, with a sorrowful sigh and undisputed repentance, that you almost buy the sincerity he’s trying to sell. Unfortunately, for him, you’re not in the market for his misery. He’s a few years too late. Dick can turn his charm up to ten thousand- he can say all the right things and plead with his perfect crystalline eyes- but you won’t risk everything you’ve fought for for a few crocodile tears. You know, now, that you’re better than that. One way or another, you’re getting out of this bathroom- and if you have to go through him to do so, then so be it.

“And you know I’m not above fighting you, right?” He’s entirely unprepared for your snark, the bite that fuels your reply nearly nipping his sense of control straight from the palm of his hand. It’s obvious that this isn’t the same game that it once was, but something much more dangerous. “The dance wasn’t enough?” With your arms across your chest, you challenge, and he hates the way you’re looking at him- like your eyes are piercing straight through him instead of actually looking at him. If you bothered to look closely enough, you’d be able to decipher all of the blatant emotions he’s never been the greatest at hiding. One look and you’d see him- and his heart beating proudly on his sleeve. It’s why you don’t spare him a glance. “You still feeling nostalgic for old times? Because this feels awfully familiar, doesn’t it?”

“What are you going to do with the money?” He asks, fighting to keep his voice stern. His poker face was never the best- or, maybe you could just read him better than most people could. Still, as he stands before you, he grapples with his devotion to whatever this competition is. This clash will never see a winner- only two losers- and he knows it. You do, too- but unlike him, you’re not willing to back down without a fight.

“Give it back to those who rightfully deserve it.” He doesn’t deserve your honesty. He has no right to the truth, but you don’t have it in you to scheme an elaborate lie. However gratifying it might’ve been to feed him false information and watch him fly in circles, you’re too exhausted for mental gymnastics. Like clockwork, you give, and he takes- his stare narrowing, almost accusatorially.

“And who are you to decide who rightfully deserves it?” There’s an edge to his question- like he can’t fathom justice without his divine intervention- and it’s grating, the way he can make you feel so small, and worthless with a single sentence. His arrogance is astounding. Who was he to seek vengeance against Slade Wilson? Who was he to target Heartless? Who was he to sentence Tony Zucco to his death- by placing him behind bars, and granting other enemies easy access to the crime lord, which ultimately led to his demise? The self-righteous guilt trip nearly gives you whiplash from how fast it makes your head spin. He’s no different than you are- no better or worse, since you operate on the same playing field. He doesn’t get to act like he is. Someone needs to knock him down a few pegs, and you’re happily up for the challenge.

“Who are you to try to stop me?”

“Someone who knows you,” He replies, instinctively. “Someone who’s a friend, not a foe.”

“Hmm,” With a bitter laugh, your stomach churns- twisting, clenching, and swirling with swells of irritation, regret, and sorrow- and although it’s a familiar discomfort, it’s been years since you’ve felt the threat of splintering cracks, chipping away at the stone-cold facade of your exterior. Come to think of it, the last time you felt this way was when Selina had told you that Dick left for San Francisco. The reminder fills you with a bitterness you’ve long tried to suppress, and as it bubbles to the surface, so do all of the repressed thoughts and emotions that’ve haunted you for years.

For a moment, you ache- chasing forgotten remembrance plagued by wistfulness. Then, you burn.

“Friends call every once in a while, and if they can’t make it to a phone, they send a postcard to let you know that they’re still alive and well.” Vexation forces your eyes to narrow, the color of your eyes morphing into something much more bleak. With a heavy exhale- filled with frustration and a semblance of humility- you remind him, “Friends don’t disappear into thin fucking air without letting you know why- especially, after those friends, were always a little more than just friends.” There’s a darkness behind your eyes that Dick’s not familiar with, and a weight settles in the hollow emptiness of his chest before sinking deeper and deeper into the pit of his stomach. His jaw clenches and he swallows thickly- the tastes of bile, rue, and shame all indiscernible from one another as he forces them back down.

He knows you’re right.

While his absence was abrupt, it had nothing to do with any ill will towards you. There was never a falling out- no crossing a line of no return or being pushed past a point that shattered a shared fantasy. Though the bullet posed no real threat of death by passing through his arm- beyond the phantom agony of lead tearing through flesh, and the hot, wet feeling of crimson pouring from the wound- a part of Dick Grayson did, in fact, die that night, at the hands of the Joker. The Clown Prince of Crime set off a domino effect when he fired at the young Boy Wonder, inevitably altering the course of his life forever. Acts of violent intent seldom harm a single soul, and as if it were fated, you became another casualty from an attack that was never meant for you.

When Bruce fired Dick, he was angry. Back then, thoughts of hanging up the cape never, ever, crossed his mind. Back then, he was content with fighting crime alongside his mentor, and never really considered what would happen next- or if there’d even be a next, or an after. He felt betrayed, abandoned, and filled with cynicism. As selfish as it was, you weren’t even really an afterthought in the downfall of his life caving in and swallowing him whole. He needed time to heal- time to rebuild- and prioritize who he was when he wasn’t hiding in the shadows left behind by a cape and cowl. Years passed, and with time to reflect, Dick’s bitter resentment morphed into a new kind of devotion to himself, and the few that started to look to him for guidance.

Before the Titans, he never really considered himself to be a leader. He spent most of his life abiding by rules and plans- roles and paths- that were set for him by another. Had he been hungry for control before, his first real taste solidified an insatiable appetite for the very thing he felt himself deprived of for too many years. Though, he’d come to learn that there was an ugly side to the power he wielded. Some days, the responsibility felt like a burden, and others, he felt like his guilt and uncertainty would swallow him whole. He bottled up all of his doubts, packed them somewhere deep inside the closed-off caverns in his heart where darker demons haunted, and forced them elsewhere- out of sight, and out of mind, but never truly gone.

It’s not fair that, somehow, you’ve come to possess the key that matches the lock on his Pandora’s box. Every emotion, every feeling, and every thought meant to be suppressed and banished to a place where they couldn’t torment or harm him, refuses to go gently when one simple, magnetic look threatens to release them from their cages of skin and bone. The most daunting realization of all, however, is that he’s the one to blame- for everything.

For all of it.

Selfishly, he’s hoped for an ember amongst the carnage he’s created. He’s held onto some convoluted idea of hope that whatever was once alight could be reignited again if he fully committed himself to an apology, but he failed to acknowledge the amount of ashes he’d have to sift through for a hint of a spark. There’s too much disappointment, too much duplicity, regret, and time passed between the two of you for things to ever revert back to even a semblance of what they once were.

He looks to you now, and he sees it- your anger is a mask for your pain. It’s so faint he almost misses it, but your lip threatens to wobble. Beyond the wrath you try to convey with the narrowed glare of your eyes, he watches as thinly veiled yearning mingles with what’s left of the color of your irises- simultaneously faint, yet prominent to the only other person who knows what it’s like to push away the person you love. What Dick and you shared wasn’t love, but it could’ve been and that’s what you’re both mourning- what could’ve been.

“You and I aren’t friends, Dick.” He hates the finality behind your conviction. It’s so cold, and void of the warmth he associated with you once upon a time. A split second threatens to expose the façade, and you blink back tears instead of allowing them to fall- swallowing emotion and banishing it elsewhere. Feelings have no place here. Instead, you grit your teeth, clenching them together so tightly that your jaw begins to ache. He watches you struggle to commit to the act- because that’s what your rage is, an outlet for your passions- and as you take a step closer toward him, his breath hitches. “Now, get out of my way,”

Toe to toe, you meet his gaze, and no matter how hard you try to fight it, despite your best efforts to disguise what you truly feel, Dick sees right through you- recognizing the parts of you that you try to mold and shape into something else. After all, he’s your greatest weakness- and you’re his. You always have been, and he always will be.

He dares to move. This close, he resists the urge to reach out for you and never let you go again, but this isn’t about him. It’s about you. Hesitantly, he raises his hand, his eyes never leaving yours as the shaky tips of his fingers graze your chin with a tenderness you’ve sought since the last time you felt it. The air is tense, passed back and forth by sharp breaths and thundering pulses- intimate with warmth and affection that mimics that of a simpler time- and when his palm rests against your cheek, cradling it with such gentle endearment in the face of betrayal, you let him. Dick’s throat bobs, and he pours everything he can’t bring himself to say into such a delicate touch. Every apology he wishes he had the courage to speak aloud, every declaration of devotion he was too afraid to voice, and every inevitable truth he attempted to ignore lingers, and you can feel it- in every shy stroke of his thumb across your cheek.

“You’re not going to distract me,” A single tear merges with the pad of his thumb- a testament to your resilience, but no match for the broken, battered, beaten bond you share with the man before you- and your certainty begins to dwindle. There’s a string that ties you to him- an invisible thread strong enough to stitch the two of you back together when you should remain apart- but you’re destined for him, the same way he’s always been destined for you.

It was foolish to believe any differently.

“I’m not trying to distract you,” Barely above a whisper, he pleads, desperate to make you understand, “I’m trying to apologize.”

He hangs his head with defeat, his shoulder slumping forward as he peers down at you. He’s never known such cruel torture. Such sick and twisted suffering is self-inflicted. The past erodes his future, but he can’t stop himself from resurrecting his demons. Foolishly, he invites them to haunt him further- and you’re no exception. His tightrope is stretched taut, and it’s a long way down. How much longer can he balance between anemoia and actuality before tipping one way or the other? It’s insanity- repeating the same act and hoping for a different outcome- but Dick can’t bring himself to accept that this time won’t be different. If nothing else, the possibility that this never-ending game could crown two winners is enough for him to play the martyr, and suffer whatever repercussions might follow after barring himself whole. What more does he have to lose, if not everything he’s already lost, again?

It would be so easy to reach past him and turn the lock in your favor, granting your escape. Hell, with the way he’s looking at you now, you know that he wouldn’t even put up a fight. He’d let you waltz right past him, slipping through his fingers for the umpteenth time because he knows that this time won’t be the last. It never is. Visions blurred by uncertainty flash before your eyes- infinite possibilities, each with consequences and punishments, rewards and sacrifices- but the unknown doesn’t elicit the same adrenaline-filled excitement that it once did. Maybe because this time, Dick isn’t fighting back. Surrendering his shield, he abandons resistance- instead, entrusting you with the vulnerability that spills from his heart, blood crimson against his fingers as he squeezes it with each thump and thud- crumbling before you, and submitting everything he has to give to you. Even if he can’t bring himself to support your cause.

You lean in closer, drawn to him- the same way you always have been, and likely, always will be- and your palm hovers over his chest. For a second, it’s unclear whether or not you’re going to reach out for him or push him away, but when your hand meets the fabric that covers hard muscle, you know you’re done for- because in the same ways he’s willing to fall before you, you’re willing to fall before him, too. Over and over again. Repeatedly and infinitely.

“Well, you have impeccable timing,” Your reproach is close enough for him to taste. It wavers against his lips and slips past his tongue, allowing him to savor parts of you he hasn’t been allowed to indulge in for so long. There’s no mistaking the invitation of your reprover, and Dick’s palm rests against your lower back, coaxing you closer towards him as his nose brushes against yours. It’s dizzying, and your arms find their way around his neck to steady yourself when he rests his forehead against yours with a soft sigh. The irony of the situation isn’t lost upon you- even when the two of you have ceded to one another, you’re still fighting to see who will give in first. As if he’s come to the realization at the same time, a large hand- rough and callused, but soft and tender in the way that it trembles against your cheek with anticipation- encourages you to tilt your head back, and you follow his lead. You hold your breath as your lips part, and Dick surges forward, slotting his mouth against yours in a kiss that’s fueled by the release of years of pent-up longing, need, and want. The gesture is foreign, yet familiar. Reminiscent of the past, yet entirely new. Everything you remember and everything you’ve ever dreamed of merge together in this moment and bring life to what had only ever been fantasy before his lips found yours once more.

It’s exhilarating.

“I missed you,” The affirmation rumbles against your skin, warm with fervor and urgency, and it’s completely unnecessary- considering that each movement acts as a balm to soothe wounds of time, fear, and doubt- but he vows with each breath, relying on words to convey what his actions can not, and vice versa. Masks are off. Shields have been abandoned. Capes remain long forgotten at the door. This is no longer about duty or morality. No, this moment is about two people seeking confirmation for what they’ve always known to be true- that a love unspoken, but never absent has always existed between them. Two people- not vigilantes or heroes- two hearts, beating to guide the other back, are bare, open, honest, and raw without the theatrics of a chase or the pretense of a game. Surrender invites you to balance on the edge of a precipice, and you’re the first to lose your footing.

Desperation is an influence, and his lapels wrinkle with the severity of your hold. Through the haze of everything unknown, he’s the only thing that’s clear, and you reach for him- blindly, but intentionally- clawing at the fabric that keeps him from you. Clashing teeth and bruising grips don’t elicit pain, not when real suffering exists in the absence of the other, and you allow him to paint you violet, blue, green, and red with desire, becoming the embodiment of his want. Your only regret is that the evidence of this divine crime will eventually fade away to nothing more than a memory- another ache that will never dull, a moment so unique that it can never be replicated. As you rejoice, you mourn.

“Sure you did.” His blazer drops to the floor as you follow your script, hardly taking a moment to realize that the page you’re reading from is blank- without word or direction- as you venture into unknown territory. Even when you don’t mean to be, you’re combative. Even when you don’t want to be, you’re still on edge. This is different. This already feels different than before, and maybe it’s because there’s a lot more at stake now that both of you have already lost one another, but for as overdue as this homecoming is, something subconsciously prolongs it further.

“No, really, I-“ He begins, ready to mold rhetoric and force it to take on a form that would allow you to see just how much you mean to him, but that would make this real, and you’re not sure if you’re ready for this to be real yet- because if this is real, if this isn’t just a cruel imitation of memory like so many variations before or a concocted fantasy so vivid you can feel yourself shaking, then that means you can lose it all, again. Just like last time. Within your grip, one minute, slipping through your fingers the next.

“Don’t.” Fear sounds different when there’s a bite to it. It could almost pass as annoyance, if you’re able to keep your voice just steady enough, and he mistakes the command for irritation, rather than the timidity it actually is. Whatever you’ve intended and he’s interpreted gets lost along the way, and he takes a hesitant step back. It’s impossible not to lunge for him as he retreats, but you remain still- your breath hitching when he holds both hands out to you, surrendering his palms while he shows he meant no harm.

“Can I…”

“You don’t have to ask,” You silence his fears quickly, closing the space between you before you even realize that you’ve taken a step. This self-sacrificial eagerness to light yourself on fire just to keep him warm has always been one of your greatest downfalls, but a most ardent gesture, and with ash on your tongue and soot in your lungs, you strike a match the minute he begins to second guess himself. “Just pretend it’s like before.” The suggestion sounds just as unsure as you are, but with a heavy breath, you encourage, “Pretend that nothing’s changed…pretend that we’re still…” You can’t even bring yourself to say it, because the kids you were back then are gone. They’re never coming back. You can’t avenge them or try to seek vengeance for what they’ve lost. It’s over for them, but this is just the start of this new beginning for the two of you. “Just for tonight.”

He moves promptly, gathering the skirts of your dress in one hand, fisting the fabric- a blue so dark he mistook it for black, or perhaps it was, until his fingertips were close enough to paint the illusion with light, making it appear different than it was- without any regard for creases or lingering proof of your affair. Support rests at your back, his chest firm and protective as you lean into the rippling muscle, and Dick continues to illuminate shadows of the past with each touch- eager to help you forget all of the agonies suffered at his hands in favor of remembering glimpses of peace. He’s ready to give you more than just a taste. Now, he wants to gorge you with the pleasure he’s reserved.

His hands shake- not with hesitancy, but anticipation, and when you catch his eye in the mirror, you shiver. You’ve never seen a blue so dark it looks black- until now. Without warning, he mouths at your neck- kissing, sucking, biting, any part of you he can get his lips on- reacquainting himself with parts of you that were once so familiar, and you allow him to explore. Blindly, you reach for one of his hands, taking it in your own, and he begins to intertwine his fingers with yours, but you gently guide his hand where you want it most- and he lets you, following your lead just as impulsively. You jolt at the first brush of his fingertips between your legs, even though you were expecting it, and he lets out a few ragged breaths against the back of your neck. It’s paradoxical, the chills that contradict the flush of your skin, but this relationship has never really made sense before. Why should that change now?

Almost as if he’s in a trance, Dick is overwhelmed by the twists and turns of the evening, but the whiplash is starting to subside in favor of something much more exhilarating. He never thought he’d have this again. He believed moments like these to be lost to time, and he wasted years grieving memories he could never replicate, only to feel the weight of your body against his once more. It’s too much. It’s not enough. It’s everything he never knew he wanted or needed until it was stolen from him, swiped right out from under his nose by his own negligence. He won’t make the same mistakes this time. No, this time, he’s going to do it right. He’s going to-

“Fuck,” When you grow tired of his stalling, you force his hand, again. This time, when your fingers meet his wrist, you press your palm on top of his- coercing him to mimic the shape- and maybe you’re the one in control, or maybe he finally rises to the occasion, but with a newfound determination, he cups your cunt- a choked sound catching in his throat when he feels how wet you are. You briefly wonder how something so vulgar can sound so pretty, but you already know the answer- it’s him. It’s always been him. Had it been anyone else, the effect would cease to exist, but it’s Dick, and that desire- that pull that you can’t ever deny- will always bind you to him.

You can’t help yourself from rutting against his palm, and he presses himself further into your back, allowing you to feel the hard outline of his cock against your ass. The hand that isn’t between your legs rests on your arm, and when he tries to hold your hand, you don’t deny him. There’s just too much fabric for you to hold in just one hand and some of it drapes over his forearm, but you manage to keep most of it from obscuring his movements. It’s a strange angle, and both of you are fumbling to make it work, but you crane your neck in search of him, and he answers your call with an eager kiss. Your tongue caresses his, savoring the feeling and committing it to memory, just in case-

He swallows your surprised gasp when he nudges your panties aside and begins to circle your clit. With just a bit of pressure, a crease forms where your eyebrows pull together, and you untangle your hand from his hold to brace yourself against the counter. It’s been a while since someone else has touched you, and it’s been even longer since the last time Dick had, but it’s so much better than evocations of pleasure. You swear figments are tangible. Spurred on by the reaction his touch has coaxed from you, he’s torn between making the moment last as long as possible or picking up the pace. He settles on the latter, considering that if this is heading the way he hopes it’s heading, he’ll have all the time in the world to make it up to you, but right now, he’s on borrowed time. You both are. With the reminder looming overhead, he adjusts his hand so that he can continue to work your clit while lining up a finger with your pussy. You’re so wet, and warm when he curls his middle finger inside, and he can’t remember why he ever left in the first place. What persuaded him away from Gotham when you were always right here? Would you have waited for him? Would you have followed him if he asked you to? He supposes none of that matters now, but he can’t help but wonder…

He adds a second finger, and even though your body gives little resistance to the intrusion, you groan at the feeling. His fingers are so long, reaching that spot inside of you that your fingers are just too short to reach, and they’re thick enough for you to feel yourself stretching around him with each thrust- not enough to cause pain, but an ache that serves as a reminder that it’s been too long since the last time you’ve had him like this. You vow not to let another ten years pass before you let him have you, again.

He continues a steady pace, curling his fingers in such a way that sweat begins to glisten across your chest, and when a third finger threatens to join his others, you wrap your hand around his wrist- abruptly halting his movements.

“N-not enough time,” He doesn’t even get the chance to ask before you supply him with an answer, but he nods in understanding once you offer an explanation. He’s already reaching for his belt, unbuckling the clasp and roughly shoving his slacks down before you have a chance to catch your breath, and you’re grateful- if the speed in which he undresses is any indication of his own eagerness- that he’s just as desperate for you, as you are for him. Taking a moment to adjust your skirts so that you don’t have to hold them, you bunch them above your hips and lean forward, resting your forearms against the counter while Dick frees himself from his boxers, and when you look back in the mirror and catch sight of his cock behind you, you can’t help but swallow thickly.

He strokes himself a few times, smearing the pre-cum beading from his slit down his shaft as he prepares to take you. This doesn’t feel like last time. As he reaches for your waist and lines himself up with your cunt, this doesn’t feel like last time at all. This is new, and different and everything he’s wanted ever since the last time he had you in his grasp. This time, he won’t let you get away. With as much self-restraint as he can manage, you feel the tip of his cock against your opening, slowly splitting you open, and your back arches. Your own strangled cry prompts a groan from him he sinks into you, inch by inch until his hips are flush against you. You’re so full that you’re not sure if it’s too much or not enough.

“I’ve got you,” Dick assures, his grip on your hip tightening when he feels you struggling to accommodate him. He tries to be a gentleman. He tries to give you a few minutes to adjust- even though he wants nothing more than to take what’s right under his nose, what’s always been his- but his restraint snaps when he feels you begin to rock back against him.

“Move,” You command, and he doesn’t have to be told twice. With your permission, he’s happy to follow orders and obliges with a sharp thrust upwards. The sound you make is a mix between a sob and a moan, and his fingers flex against your hip as he repeats the action.

“I forgot…” Through clenched teeth, he confesses, and you don’t think anything of the admission, too lost within your own feelings to attempt to decipher his. Instead, he wraps an arm around your waist, offering thick muscle to serve as a buffer between your body and the stone he has you pressed up against- relying on intimate gestures to make up for words lost in translation. Even now, when you’re not on the same page, you still know. Somehow, you know, and he does, too. Every time. Without fail. Always. Your head rolls back to meet his shoulder, and your fingertips claw at the back of his neck awkwardly, with transparent desperation to pull him closer. Within reach isn’t close enough. Near is too far. With a muted gasp, you push back to meet his next thrust, and he hisses softly before elaborating, “I’m so sorry if I made you forget.”

“Dick-“ Realization begins to splinter the mirage of bliss, and you manage to say his name with enough caution to serve as a warning. You don’t want to think about the past. Not right now. Not when you can see your future so clearly in the foggy reflection of the vanity. He wraps his hand around your neck, encouraging you to bare your throat to him and he licks at the vein that calls out to him.

“I won’t let you forget, not this time.” He vows, bucking his hips faster and faster as you whine in his hold. In some sick twisted way, he loves that he’s the only one who has this power over you- that he’s the only one who could ever elicit such a reaction- and it’s a testament to how much the two of you care for one another; the influence both of you have over one another. “This time, I want to remember.”

It’s going to be impossible not to.

“I-“ He can barely get a word out with how good you feel around him, and he takes a breath before trying again. “I know you want to pretend, but fuck…I can’t.” Dick wraps his arm around you, guiding your back to rest against his chest, and one of his large hands splays across your stomach, where he can feel himself inside of you. “I really did miss you,” Somehow he manages to find his voice. “Not just like this, either,”

“I-I missed you, too.” You don’t seem certain, not with the way you stutter, but your reply is genuine. It only appears dubious because Dick’s palm begins to press against you, and you all but choke on your confession. He can’t help himself, but neither can you.

“I’m close,” He rasps, brokenly. “Shit,” His thrusts begin to falter, and his eyes meet yours in the mirror. “Are you-“

“Yes!” You yelp when his fingers start circling your clit, and he doesn’t relent, even when he feels you start to tremble beneath him. You’re overwhelmed by him, in the best way possible, and as eager as you are to chance your release, a part of you never wants this moment to end. “Dick, please d-don’t stop,” Your muscles grow taut, and when his thrusts lose their precision, you know that he’s almost there. “Just like before,” You encourage him, clenching hard when he bites your shoulder and your orgasm washes over you. “J-just like before.”

He knows what you’re asking for. He understands what you’re practically begging for, and in a fleeting moment of clarity, he catches a glimpse of the faded scar on your arm- his only regret being the fact that an implant still stands in the way of what he truly wants with you- but the thought disappears as quickly as it materializes.

A few seconds more and he grunts against your neck, pulling your hips to meet his and spilling himself inside of you. It’s even better than you remember and your body shakes with aftershocks of pleasure. Luckily, he’s there to keep you upright. Your vision starts to blur and the only sound you’re able to make out is both of you struggling to catch your breaths. With a heavy sigh, he pulls out, and you can feel his cum start to leak from you, but you’re too disoriented to clean it up. Instead, you lean forward, relying on the countertop for support as you hang your head and try to come back to your senses.

Dick leaves a trail of soft kisses down the back of your neck and his forehead is both warm and damp when it meets your shoulder, resting comfortably against your skin while he takes a minute to catch his breath, and these sensations- these tiny little reminders that he’s here, this moment is present and real- ground you. Where your mind is a mess, reeling with indecision, emotions, and thoughts you can’t yet process, your body is at ease.

As your eyes flutter shut, greedy gulps of air fail to satisfy your lungs, and you swallow thickly, allowing pressure to build up in your chest until you simply can’t take it anymore. Darkness saturates all that you can see, and you’re caught in a void- trapped, without any light to guide you back home. The gentle caress of his touch along your arm brands you, flush enough to make you burn with reminders of this fleeting moment- when embers of devotion inevitably fade into ashes- and you stiffen in his hold, not that he’s coherent enough to notice.

He seems to be in his little world as he tucks himself back into his pants and presses another gentle kiss to your shoulder before wrapping his arms around you. Violent delights really do have violent ends and it’s not fair that you let it get this far without thinking about the consequences of your actions. None of this would’ve happened if you just let yourself love him- without fear, without judgment, without regret- and if you had just been honest with yourself all those years ago, this mess would’ve never spiraled so far out of your control.

Whatever repercussion await you, you’ll brave. Regardless of what happens next, you know that you have to tell him the truth- even if it kills you. The thought is often more daunting than the action itself, but as you turn yourself around in his arms so that you’re facing him, you’re petrified.

“I’m sorry,” The magnitude of your apology isn’t supported by the handful of letters that arrange themselves as they slip past your tongue. There has to be a better way to express your remorse, but if one exists it evades you. Over and over again, the same words come to mind and it’s not fair that you know exactly what you want to say, but you just can’t find the right words to absolve your shame. At your inability to voice your regret, frustration overwhelms you. Your lips part, ready to divulge your sins, but only a pathetic, meek sigh comes out. Why is this so difficult? You know the answer, and yet, you play the part of the fool- leaning on ignorance as a crutch for what you can’t bring yourself to brave. He deserves it, doesn’t he? The truth- not something partial, but whole. Transparency is the only piece left of a nearly complete puzzle, the only thing keeping this tragic tale of two lovers who break each other’s hearts only to stitch them back together again from reaching its inevitably doomed end. When your lip begins to tremble, Dick reaches for you, pulling you into his chest and embracing you in a hold that’s absolutely suffocating. You don’t deserve his kindness. You don’t deserve his love or affection- his tenderness or his forgiveness.

You don’t deserve him.

“Me too,” He sighs into your hair, pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of your head before resting his head on top of yours. You can hear his heart- how steady it beats- and the sound rivals the racing of your own where it threatens to burst straight from your chest, and your eyes flutter shut, savoring the gentle lull of his own serenity before you poison his relief with your own disruption. No matter how much it hurts, no matter how difficult it may be, you know that you have to tell him. With a breath, you prepare for carnage.

“No, Dick, I-“

“Dick? Are you in here?” Barbara’s voice seeps through the wooden barrier that separates the two of you from the rest of the world- from reality- and as soon as she calls out to him, the illusion of tranquility is broken. Of course, it’s her. Of course, she’d be the one to interrupt you before you had the chance to speak, and of course, it would be her that drives a wedge further between the two of you with one simple revelation, “They’re getting away!”

It’s almost impossible to miss the sounds of commotion that follow her declaration. Faint screams and chaos replace the background of symphony strings and he turns to you then, a divot dividing the smooth skin of his forehead while his eyes narrow. Blue is black. Dark, and unmistakable. The muscle in his jaw looks like it’s about to burst with the severity of his clenching and his nostrils flare with a shallow exhale. It’s excruciating to watch him slip back into consciousness after being caught up in a dream, but a nightmare unfolds before you, twisting your stomach into knots so intricate they threaten to snap. You can’t breathe, and when you gather enough courage to finally take a step forward, he takes a step back. He’s never looked at you with so much hostility before, and you open your mouth to explain, to shower him with honesty and desperate pleas to make him understand that this wasn’t meant to happen like this, but no sound comes out. Not even a sigh. Not even a huff. Not even a pathetic, broken whimper. Nothing.

Unfortunately, Dick’s left to draw his own conclusions- to fill in the gaps in which your silence fails to atone for your crimes- and he paints a picture so drastically different from the truth, relying on his interpretation to establish a story so vivid he believes it to be real- even if it’s a figment of his own imagination, a product of his own devastation. Dispelled doubts come rushing back, and he allows them to influence the narrative- since you still can’t seem to find your voice- and everything left unsaid becomes louder in the silence. He mistakes your tears for guilt, instead of recognizing the regret and shame that mingle with saltwater. As gutted as he is, he looks to you for an explanation, but you can’t bring yourself to justify what you’ve done- even if it wasn’t your intention. Distracting him was part of the plan. Keeping him occupied was your mission, but confessing your true feelings and allowing yourself to fall back in love with him- not just the idea of what it would be like to love him- wasn’t part of your job description.

The second your paths crossed again, you were done for. It was never about seeking vengeance or getting even for the hurt that he caused you, because the minute that Dick waltzed back into your life, you knew you were doomed- because he makes you reckless. He makes you sloppy and distracted and forgiving. He makes you weak- and you let him. Every single time. Always and forever. Infinitely.

When he looks at you, he looks past you and towards your belongings on the counter. No. You shake your head, vehemently encouraging him to look away. If his eyes would just meet yours, if only for a second, you know you could save this. If not for the sake of putting broken pieces back together you could at least salvage fragments amongst the wreckage, but he doesn’t spare you a glance. No, no, no. His attention is solely on the expensive stone behind you, and when you reach out for him, your fingertips shaking as you grasp his bicep with all of the strength you can muster, he shakes you off of him.

Everything splinters.

When he reaches for your earring, you know that this is the end. It’s all over. A new moment will erase everything you thought you knew about pain, heartbreak, suffering, and betrayal. This moment, as it unfolds before you, will plague you until you meet your demise, because the second that he dares to bring the jewel up to his own ear, the exact moment that he hears Selina’s command through the gravely static of the earpiece you discarded earlier in the evening, you know that any hope for a future together vanishes- ripped straight from your fingers before you even had the chance to hold onto it and guard it with your life.

Even with his back towards you, you can see his face harden in the reflection of the mirror. Through the thin material of his crumbled dress shirt his shoulders tense and when he finally looks up to meet your stare through the glass, all traces of red, green, and yellow are gone. A piece of him- the piece of him that you’re most familiar with- dies, sprawled out and oozing across the marble. It’s too late to try to revive him. All that’s left in the wake of his slaughter is blue and black.

Blue and black, forevermore.

There’s nothing left for either of you here. Not anymore. Hope begins to decay, and the hollow hole in your chest that only he could ever fill begins to die from rot. Nothing will ever be the same. Not after this. Perhaps the final thought passed back and forth between a glare is the last thing you’ll ever share- beyond moments of destruction and beautiful chaos- but it’s clear to you both, that not all ghosts are meant to be resurrected.

Some ghosts should just stay ghosts.

a/n: hey, I’m raen and I’m down bad for this man lol…anyway, I’ve been working on this story for months. I literally poured bits and pieces of my soul into this (so if you wouldn’t mind interacting or providing feedback I’d be forever grateful) but I just wanted to write a tale of doomed lovers who care about each other in such a way that it leads to their downfall. I wanted this to hurt, and I hope it did- in the best way possible! I’m not above begging, so please, please, please feel free to send some feedback- as this is my first time writing for Dick and I would love to hear what people think! that being said, requests are also open! check out my request guidelines before submitting! and if you’ve made it this far, thank you so much for reading! 

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[roturo]

CRY FOR ME -dick grayson x f!reader

① NEW REQUEST FROM ANONYMOUS!: sex pollen, old lovers meet again.

→ summary: He loves you, he really does, but he left you. Months wondering why he did that had you crying for him, never ending the never-ending cycle of the abandoned by Dick Grayson wasn't in your to-do list. It's time to hit him with a smile, rather than a goodbye that would leave him wondering.

→ warnings: SMUT, angst, sex pollen, mating press, breeding kink, marking, fingering & oral (f receiving), mutlipes orgasms, overstimulation, mention of weight loss (but it's never specified how much or the weight of the reader exactly, neither a body type), hero into villain!reader, med student!reader, mentions of kory and dick being together but never in a relationship, reader is friends with harley quinn, reader was part of the og titans.

A/N: I'm really proud of this one, might even do pt2 if it gets support. -Words: 3.4k

TUMBLR IS BASED ON A REBLOG SYSTEM. PLEASE REBLOG MY WORK. THANK YOU. ENJOY. SMUT BELOW THE CUT.

¨And you know what I hate most of all that shit he put me through?, He-¨

¨Can you please stop talking about Dick Y/N? It's been MONTHS, damn it! almost a year! You're driving me nuts! I'm not even Dick's ex, or friend and I already hate him as much as you do. So let's move on.¨

¨You don't understand, I was a good girlfriend! Shit! I even became a hero for him! Now look where we are.¨

Harley laughs at your remark of how the tables have turned.

Both of you were sitting at the top of a building eating some ice-cream, which Harley insisted on steal from a random kid on the street, after robbing some random store she liked a collar from, you were now looking at how police officers where trying to look for a culpable of this crime.

It's been 11 months and 5 days since Dick broke up with you. You couldn't AND still don't understand why he did it, both of you were fine one day and the next one he decided, 'oh how could I destroy the woman of my dreams heart?, I know how! What if I tell her I don't need her anymore in my life and she's useless! then some months later fuck some fire princess and act like i'm a new person with this new suit and name! oh! also, re-do the titans! when my ex helped me do the og ones, helped when the fell apart but she's useless anyways!'

To say you weren't deep down for him, would be a lie. You don't know how he could keep laughing everyday knowing how his little trauma ass dumped you like trash. Well, if you're being honest he doesn't have a small ass, but that doesn't matter.

¨Aw, I want more ice-cream¨ Coming back to earth after some deep thoughts, Harley grabbed you by the wrists in order to change up and start looking some restaurant for dinner.

After changing clothes and Harley talking about how obsessed she´s with the Joker, you couldn't quite blame her, both of you were finally walking on the street, laughing at some random inside joke both of you had.

¨Huh.¨ Your phone started ringing and you could swear if it wasn't cold enough to freeze you up, the call was. ¨Who is it?¨ Harley asked, sneaking through your shoulder.

¨OH! Donna?, the cute girl you talked about?¨

¨Shhh, let me attend this call... Hello? Donna?¨

¨Y/N, um- hello! How are you? It's been what? one year since we don't talk?¨ ¨I'm... fine. How about you?¨

You were quite confused for this call, on the outside you're calm, but inside, you're freaking out.

¨I'm good, it's nice to hear you're doing fine!¨ ¨Thank you Donna, but I know you just don't call to ask how i'm doing, what's wrong?¨ ¨Oh well, you quite know me well Y/N, i'm sorry it seemed that way, but you're like the only person I know who could help us with some medical issues, you know? So I wanted to ask you if you could come and help us to deal with Conner, and maybe stay some days...? i'll explain you who he is and all of that later.¨ ¨Donna, you know i'm not longer on the me-¨

Harley pinched you in the arm, trying to talk but you were faster. ¨Ow Harley! Stop it!¨ You told your best friend in a whisper so Donna couldn't hear the both of you, also covering the microphone of your phone, for... extra precautions.

¨You don't understand! This is an awesome opportunity! You're going undercover in the titans tower! Imagine how crazy Jack (Jocker) would be! Say yes!¨

Thinking it for a few seconds, she was right, you could get some important information from them, it was indeed, an awesome plan.

¨Who knows, you might also see bird-boy again!¨ She said raising her eyebrows in a teasing way making you roll your eyes.

¨Y/N? Are you still there?¨

¨Yes, when do you need me to be there?¨

¨Erm... now if it's possible¨

You were now unpacking your suitcase, Donna told you to pack for at least a month, isn't that incredible?

You haven't come across any of the other titans, beside, Donna, Dawn, Gar, Rachel, Jason and Rose... Quite interesting team.

You didn't introduced well to the kids since you were in a hurry to enter your temporary room and not ran into someone else...

While you were unpacking your old tools Wayne gave you while you were their medical support 'hero' maybe also because you were a med student, you still helped with fights, bruises and hits.

You found the 'special' bandages you had for Dick, since the 'normal ones weren't soft enough for his bruises' a small smile appeared on your face at those old memories.

Now unpacking your clothes, you found three special lingerie underwear with a note from Harley:

'Just in case you have some fun ;)

xx Harley~'

The note made you roll your eyes but you couldn't deny it brighten your mood, throwing away the not and putting aside the 'Harley present', you continued unpacking your clothes, you brought in a separate case for your suit, just in case.

¨Y/N! Can you come here?¨

¨Coming!¨ maybe you could order the clothes other time.

When you entered the living room, the kids were no longer there, except Jason.

They started explaining you what happened between Deathstroke and what they know about Conner, you were paying attention to know what you're dealing with, you haven't even realize Dick came in sight until Dawn mentioned it.

But Dick didn't came alone, he was next fire princess which you couldn't care less to investigate her name when you found out about Dick meeting her.

¨Oh Dick! We brought Y/N so she could help us with Conner, since we don't have anyone else who knows about this weird medical stuff.¨ They know what happened between you two, and they still decided to ask for your help knowing he's going to be here.

You stood up from the sofa, eyes locking with his, you couldn't longer see the coldness in his eyes, but there wasn't warm either, you couldn't quite decipher what he's feeling.

¨Kory¨ She gave you her hand at which you responded with your name and doing the same. You locked eyes with her for a brief moment, a small smirk appeared in your face but disappeared once the greeting finished.

¨Y/N.¨ You locked eyes with him, a tension only the two of you could feel. You were different, much prettier, you lose some weight too, blame it on the break-up depression, but you were shining.

¨Grayson.¨ Hearing you say his last name instead of his name he could feel a small part of him getting shattered inside him, you changed.

After checking on Conner and taking some notes, it was finally night time, you were eating some cereal, knowing more about Gar and Rachel, Kory, Dawn, Donna and Robin were dressed up with their suits.

¨We have some issues to deal tonight with another troublemaker, nothing serious though, just a one night problem.¨ Dick announced while getting ready to go out.

¨Y/N, you should come! Maybe warm out a little like the old times." Dawn invited you, how nice of her, only if she knew you were also a troublemaker.

¨No thank you, i'm only here for medical support.¨ You gave her a small smile and said your goonights.

Some knocking in your door woke you up, it only passes one hour since you went asleep and they're already annoying you, first day!

¨Y/N? Are you awake?¨ You heard Dawn saying though the door.

¨Mmh¨ You replied.

¨We need you, it's Dick.¨

Even more annoying.

You walked next Dawn through the halls until you finally came into Dick´s room. Inside they were Donna and Kory, clearly concerned about his well being.

His behavior seemed, weird, there wasn’t any bruises or cuts, not even blood. He was just twisting in pain on his bed. You stepped closer to him, and got your hand on top of his forehead at which he only whined, that scared you, since it sounded more like a moan than a whine. He was hot, sweating and moving a lot.

You had your suspicions what this could be, but you needed to confirm it, this can't be real.

¨Can you please... tell me with which villain you fought with?¨

¨Ivy¨ Donna said.

Shit.

¨I need to make a call¨ you quickly said running out of the room.

¨Surprise, surprise!¨ Harley said in her taunting tone. ¨Oh my god Harley, I can't believe you.¨ ¨Well, you know a girl needs to help her best friend, so... I called another friend and voilà!¨ ¨What am I supposed to do? I don't have the fucking cure for sex pollen Harley! I owe you one, can't believe Ivy did this for me.¨ ¨You just said it, sex. C´mon Y/N!, it's your moment to play with him! He had you like a sad girl, why don't turn her into a mad girl? Make him cry for you. Break his heart like he did with you.

You ended the call, and just in time, Kory came. ¨Y/N, we need you Dick keeps talking about you and rambling about some stupid things.¨ You could sense a strange behavior from her, like if she just discovered something big.

Watching Dick twisting in pain and saying your name in just some black briefs felt good. You can't lie to yourself Harley was right.

¨It's sex pollen¨ You admitted.

¨And what's the cure? Do you have it? That's why you made the call?¨ Donna asked.

¨No, the only cure for it it's well... sex. The pollen might last for at-least 3 days or even a week, symptoms are well... extremely high sex-drive, dehydration, high temperatures, and... I think that's all.¨

Donna chuckled at what happened to Dick, ¨Let's go girls, let's leave this to Kory.¨ Dawn just laughed at a very shocked and blushed Kory, ¨Don't be like that Donna, Kory and Dick haven't confirmed anything yet.¨ You felt your jaw clenching, but decided to act calm, and when all of you were almost leaving, you were stopped.

¨No. I want her.¨ Dick said, pointing towards you. All of you stayed quiet at the sudden confession. You were shocked to say at least, blood rushing to your cheeks, you were about to leave that damn room until you remembered what Harley said.

Cry for me.

Donna grabbed your shoulder, looking at you. ¨You don't have to do this if you're uncomfortable.¨

¨No. It's okay, i'm in.¨

After mentally preparing yourself, bringing some water bottles into the room, they left you alone with him.

You sat next to him on his bed, memories came back flying around the both of you.

¨Look, I know that-¨ He completely cut you off when he started kissing you, making you lay down on the bed, you left a small moan when he broke the kiss for a moment.¨Oh my god, you don't know how much I wanted to kiss you again.¨

Did he missed you? Every question that came to your mind was easily erased when he started kissing and sucking your neck while unbuckling your jeans and taking them down with your underwear, he pulled apart to admire the bruises he left, he grabbed your panties and threw them to his nightstand.

He started kissing your thighs, making small pauses on each to make sure he's marking you as his again. Every time he went higher until he gave a small peck on your clit. ¨I can't wait to taste you sweetheart.¨ There it is... the nickname.

He got your legs over his shoulders and gave a testing long lick on your pussy, teasing your hole. At which he started sucking your clit once he heard the high pitched moan you did when he teases your hole.

His started spelling his name with his tongue on your pussy at which it only made you hornier, suddenly he inserted his index finger inside you. Dick sped up, fingers now flicking in and out of you at light speed, nose pressed into your clit, and before you knew it you were cumming, shuddering on his mouth, crying out his name.  Quickly he took all the remaining clothes from you and him, now both of you completely naked for each-other.

He was rock hard. No, scratch that, his cock looked like it was made of fucking ruby. Red and painful and already half-soaked with pre-cum.

He pressed your legs impossibly closer to your torso, moving down to meet your eyes, until you were folded in half beneath him, legs on his shoulders, putting you into a—

Oh. 

Oh. 

This was going to be a long night.

He fell on his forearms, and you wondered how much more you could take- He laced his fingers on top of your head, thumbs on your forehead, holding you still. He mumbled out another gonna make you feel s’ good before pounding you in earnest, practically bouncing you both on his mattress. His balls smacked against your ass, and the feeling was so damn satisfying that he just had to go harder. You would sport matching bruises tomorrow, his hips on your ass. You pushed out moans in time with his unforgiving pace, a metronome playing the beat to which his sanity danced away from him. 

“More?” He sounded fucking pathetic, like he was asking himself that, his voice octaves higher than it usually was, but he didn’t care. “More, you little slut? That what you want? You want more?”

“I’ll give you more,” he babbled, “More, baby, give you more give you everythin’ gonna fuck you so hard you won’t walk for weeks.”

He’s not too worried about hurting you—you’re already so wet—more that he’s afraid he’ll cum the second he starts moving again. Out of his previous partners, he doesn’t think any of them have felt this good around him.

“Please-” a strand of incomprehensible begs and pleads leaves his mouth when he starts thrusting into you again.

¨Shit- how are you even tighter huh? You've been keeping this tight pussy just for me?¨ He's a whiny mess, small kisses every time he cans, praises here and there.

“Mmm yes please yes please yesyesyesss—” was all you could manage. He laughed at you, breathless, and you wondered how he could keep up this pace and still rattle off incredibly filthy little comments, looking right in your eyes. 

“You’d like that? Yeah? Gon’ look so pretty, little baby, so pretty full of my child, yeah? All round and glowing and heavy with me. All of ’em will look at you and see me, all me, see that I did that. You want that? You want that you want that—”

He leans forward to coo praise into your ear, gently nipping at your earlobe. Goosebumps raise along your exposed flesh. The sound of skin slapping on skin echoes through the stairwell. Sometime during this his teeth find the soft muscle of your neck, leaving a crescent shape mark that’ll certainly bruise in the morning.

You're pretty sure everyone on this tower have heard the both of you fucking like rabbits by now, but knowing this was going to follow him his whole life, with the memories of him fucking you every way possible just so you could leave him, it's all you need to don't care about that.

The first time he cums, he doesn’t even realize he has. He shudders. It felt good—a bit too good—but nothing out of the ordinary. It makes him do a double take. His cock doesn’t even go soft. Drips of cum run down your thighs, pooling on the bed-sheets beneath you.

His thumb traces circles around your clit, moving in erratic, uneven motions. Dick leans back down for another kiss. You can taste yourself on him, though it’s not entirely unpleasant. Your arms wrap around his neck, holding him to your chest. The two of you can only fuck and cum until you’re too exhausted to continue. You’ve never felt so full. The thought of using protection crossed your mind once—and only for a moment—the pollen leaving you too desperate to care.

Second day and he wouldn't give you a break to nap for a minute.

His body curved and bowed, hips pressed hard against you, arms below your body and hands gripping your shoulders. “Mmm fuck baby,” Dick muttered into your mouth, your moans coming out of you almost breathless. “Yeah, yeahyeahyeah milk me fucking milk my cock gonna cum in you fuck a baby, my baby into you and you’re gonna fucking take it take it nnngh —”

He buried his face into your neck, teeth latching on to skin, biting down to draw blood, a choked groan as he came, really came, his balls squeezing painfully, a deep ache in his gut, indescribable tingles all along his cock, his spine, down to the soles of his feet.

Third day, and you started getting him where you wanted it.

“Sensitive,” you hissed, “Sensitive, Dick, you insatiable—”

“Insatiable is right,” he said to you, eyes wide, still looking like you just told him the Earth was flat. He towered over you, kneeling now, and with horror and a bit of something else you felt how hard he still was. 

¨I missed you so much, the biggest mistake of my life was leaving you.¨

Fourth day he started getting sensitive but that didn't stopped him, and he was a little more languid, strokes slow and smooth, his thighs shaking just a bit as exhaustion started to settle in. His cum was spreading in a pool on the sheets now, and you couldn’t bring yourselves to be even a little disgusted. He loved it. He loved so much how it felt that tears dropped from his eyes every-time he felt that electric shock come to him when he was about to come. He was crying for you.

Last day. Fifth day. Barely even thrusting anymore, just a slow grind of his hips, the friction and the pressure and the raw sensation squeezing out what could have been an orgasm if only both of you were awake enough to feel it.

When you both woke up the next day, he was staring at you, straddling your hair, and that's when you knew it.

¨Good morning sweetheart.¨

You just answered with a small ¨hey¨

¨I never through of seeing you laying next to me again, it felt like home. I'm sorry I did that to you, you don't know how much I regret it, please, give me a second chance.¨

Bingo.

Without saying a word, you grabbed some shirt of his, long enough to cover yourself and went back to your room, stumbling and shaking someway you made it. You changed yourself, taking a minute to observe how he marked you, it was time.

You went back to his room, already changed, you gave him a smile and sat on the bed with him, with no emotion behind your eyes, it was your time.

¨You were ready to leave me for her.¨ Confusion, first stage he made you go through.

¨I was doing fine, really, but then you walked again into my life again and fucked me up.¨ Sadness and lies. Second stage.

¨You think this will make me stay?¨ You signaled the both of you. ¨You think with just some stupid sex to heal you is enough of an apology?¨ A laugh escaped your mouth. ¨You thought this was real?¨

¨You know for a fucking fact this wasn't supposed to happen.¨ You got your hand on top of his, faking a caring smile looking at him.

¨When friends of yours make jokes about how you always leave them, you think it's funny, but it's not. That hurts a lot, actually.¨

You got up from the bed and stepped closer to the door, you paused for a second and turned around to see a hurt Dick naked on the bed with just some blanket covering him.

¨And Dick... Of course I still love you, if it wasn't for me, I would go crying and throwing myself into your arms again.¨

¨You still can.¨ He tried.

¨No.¨ You chuckled. ¨I won't let myself get hurt again. Our love isn't worth the fight. Goodbye Dick Grayson.¨

#dick grayson x reader #dick grayson #dick grayson x reader smut #dick grayson smut #nightwing x reader #nightwing x reader smut #nightwing #nightwing smut #titans x reader #teen titans #titans netflix #titans smut #titans #notsfw #smut #send requests #requests open #im proud of myself #dick grayson angst #robin smut #titans angst #dc imagines

[slut4thebroken]

Interruption

── ���⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Dick Grayson × reader

Summary | You and Dick can’t seem to get any privacy in the tower.

Warnings | Smut, sexual content, 18+, unprotected sex, breeding, cunnilingus, brief fingering, cowgirl position, belly bulging, pregnancy kink, manhandling, lowkey emotional manipulation but bestie is eating it up lmao, kind of soft dom!Dick but he can be mean when he needs to be 😼

Words | 3.8k

Notes | Why are all of the animated Dick gifs him as Nightwing😭 Also I didn’t want to be basic and use the gif from when he slept with Kori in the live action so I just went with this lmao. (Also… do I like Donna and Dawn? Not particularly💀 but it worked for the story so whatever)

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

“Fuck, pretty girl. Take it.” He growled, moving his finger inside of you faster. Your back arched into him as you let out a low whine, dragging your nails down his back, making him hiss in pain. “Look at you. So pretty underneath me. Being such a good girl.” That made you let out a loud moan but he quickly shushed you. 

“Quiet, baby. We’re not alone. You don’t want anyone to hear do you?” You clenched around his finger and let out a silent sob. “Oh you do.” He purred, moving down to trail kisses up your jaw until his lips met your ear. 

“Tell me.”

“No I- I don’t want them to hear.” You cried, leaning forward to put your head in the crook of his neck. 

“I think you’re lying.” He chuckled, slipping another finger inside, making you whimper. 

The second you heard knuckles against the door, you both froze. Dick placed his hand over your mouth as you breathed heavily, staring at him with wide eyes. 

“I was just about to make dinner and I wanted to ask if you want to help so we can hang out?” Donna called out from the other side of the door and he released your mouth for you to respond. 

“Um-“ You cut off with a choked moan when his fingers started moving again. “Dick, stop.” You whispered, clawing at his bicep. 

“Are you okay?” 

“I'm fine! I'm good. Just not feeling very well, that’s all.” You choked out, silently begging Dick to stop. 

“Oh okay. Do you need anything?” 

“N- no.” A third finger entered you, making you gasp. “Thank you though.” She was silent for a moment and the wait was agonizing. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” 

“Yeah I’m good. Probably just need to sleep.” You prayed that the moan through your words wasn’t obvious. 

“Okay… Well, just let me know if you need anything.” 

“I will.” And then you heard footsteps receding. “You are an asshole, Dick Grayson.” You glared at him, making him chuckle. 

“If I’m such an asshole then I guess I won’t eat you out.” He shrugged, removing his fingers. You tightened your legs around his hips and watched as he brought his hand up to lick your arousal off of his fingers. “That’s a shame. You taste so fucking good too.” 

“Fine. Then I guess I won’t suck you off.” You raised your brows, challenging him, but he just let out a dark chuckle. 

“Oh, baby. If I want you to suck me off, I’m going to make you suck me off.” You took in a sharp breath at his words. “Now. If you’re done being a brat, how about I fuck you full of my come then clean you up with my mouth.” He smirked and you nodded breathlessly. He leaned up and took his cock in his hand, slowly dragging it up and down your folds. 

“Stop teasing.” You whined, squirming beneath him. 

“Be patient.” He emphasized his words by slapping your clit with his length and you let out a small whimper. 

“Please.” You whispered, using your legs to try and pull him into you. He rubbed the tip of his cock over your hole and you squirmed beneath him. But once again, both of you froze when you heard someone knock on the door. 

“Hey I heard you’re not feeling well.” Fucking Dawn. 

“Yeah I-“ You couldn't hold down the moan crawling up your throat when Dick suddenly pushed his length inside. 

“What was that? Are you okay?” 

“No I-“ He buried himself to the hilt, paused for a moment, then slowly slid back out. “I just got a cramp.” You raised your hand to bite down on your fist but Dick grabbed your wrist and held it to the bed. 

“Dick, stop.” You whispered. He didn’t. He just continued that same slow rhythm. 

“I thought you wanted me to fuck you?” He whispered back with a smirk. 

“Can I get you anything?” She called out through the door and you tried to respond but Dick moved down to your neck and started kissing across it before sucking the skin into his mouth. You let out a heavy breath and he chuckled. 

“Better respond, baby. She’s waiting.” What did she ask again?? Fuck. 

“No- thank you. I just… I- need to rest, that’s all.” He just barely increased the speed of his thrusts and you bit down hard on his shoulder to muffle your sounds. In retaliation, he bit the base of your neck, then soothed the stinging skin with his tongue. 

“Okay. Let me know if you need anything.” 

“I will.” You said through a breath, listening and waiting to hear her footsteps. 

“Fuck.” You sobbed once you knew she was gone. 

“You poor thing. That must’ve been so hard.” He cooed, pulling away from your neck to look at you. He tucked some hair behind your ear and you nodded with a pout. “You did so well, baby. Such a good girl, aren’t you?” 

“Yes.” You gasped out, moving your free hand to his back and digging your nails into his skin, making his thrusts falter for a second. 

“I think my good girl deserves a reward.” He continued the steady rocking of his hips and you let out a long, needy whine, wanting him to go faster. “Do you want me to fill you up? You want to be stuffed full of my come?” You were begging before he could even finish. 

“Please-“ You gasped out, feeling his thrusts start to go faster. “Please, I want it.” You whimpered and he let out a low groan. 

“Don’t worry, baby. I’m gonna give it to you. And you’re gonna fucking take it.” He growled, speeding up even more. He released your wrist to put his weight on his hand and lean up a little. Your legs were locked around his back but he took one thigh and pushed it up until it rested on his shoulder, opening you up even more for him. You cried out at the new angle and he quickly put a hand on your neck. 

“Shut the fuck up.” He hissed, squeezing the sides of your neck, making you gasp. “Do you want everyone in the tower to hear you whining and moaning for me like a little slut?” 

“Dick-“ You gasped out. 

“What’s wrong, baby?” He cooed condescendingly. “Worried they’re gonna think of you differently when they hear the team genious getting fucked stupid?” He gave you a dark smirk and you squeezed your eyes shut as your mouth opened in a silent moan. 

“Then they’ll know what you really are, right? Just a pretty little fuck toy for me to use however I please. A little flesh light for me to fuck and breed.” 

“Oh god-“ You sobbed. “Fuck- please let me come.” His thrusts were brutal as he pounded into your aching hole with abandon. 

“Sorry baby, that’s not your reward.” Your brows furrowed as tears of desperation filled your eyes. 

“Please, I’ll do anything- just please let me come.” His grip tightened even more and you reached a hand up to grab his wrist. 

“You’re being greedy.” His disgruntled expression and tone made you instantly regret begging. He pulled out of you in one swift stroke and you cried out at the sudden emptiness. 

“No! No- please, I’m sorry I- I won’t be greedy anymore, I swear.” You felt a hot tear roll down your temple into your hair and he cooed as he moved his hand from your neck to wipe it away. 

“I don’t know, sweetheart. I’m not sure I’m convinced.” The way he said it was as if he was delivering bad news that he had no control over and god if it didn’t make you fucking gush. You let out a quiet sob as more tears started to fall. 

“Please.” You whispered brokenly and he shushed you as he stroked your hair. 

“I know, it’s okay.” He effortlessly flipped you over so you were kneeled over his hips, but you didn’t dare try to sit on his cock yet. 

“Don’t you want to please me? I thought you wanted to be my good girl.” 

“I- I do…” You stared down at him and trailed your gaze down his face and chest. He was barely breathless. There was a light sheen of sweat on his skin but it looked more like he was glowing rather than sweating. You watched his hands run up your thighs to grab your hips and you tentatively placed your hands on his chest. 

“Then why don’t you want to make me feel good, baby?” He stared up at you with faux sadness that looked so real, you couldn’t help but feel terrible about disappointing him. 

“I do!” 

“Really? It doesn’t seem like it. Seems like you just want everything for yourself, sweetheart.” 

“No! I- I don’t. Please, I don’t want to come, I want to make you come.” You cried, feeling your bottom lip start to tremble as your vision became blurry with more tears. “I’m sorry for being greedy. I just wanna make you feel good. That’s all I want.” 

“Yeah?” His thumbs moved in soothing circles on your hip bones as he looked up at you with puppy dog eyes. You nodded and the corners of his lips turned up. “Okay, baby. I’ll give you another chance.”

“Thank you!” You all but cried in relief but you fully melted at the smile on his face. Pleasing Dick Grayson was like breathing air— you want to do it all the time- need to actually- and if you don’t, it hurts— and you’re finally able to breathe again. 

You looked at him questioningly as you reached for his length. He nodded in response so you took it in your hand and lifted your hips enough to slide back onto him. You let out a shaky breath as your ass met his thighs.

“Good. Keep going.” Good. Not good girl. Just good. The thought almost made you cry but you tried to remember that right now you’re earning back his praise. 

Slowly lifting yourself, you watched as his expression barely changed. Honestly if it wasn’t for the satisfying stretch of your hole, you probably wouldn’t even be able to tell that he’s balls deep inside you right now. That only spurred you on. You dropped back down and adjusted your hand on his chest, then continued the moving up and down. 

“Wonder how long you’ll last.” He smirked, dragging his gaze down your body before making his way back up to your face.

“What?” You said through a breath. 

“Well this is about you pleasing me. And you rarely last more than five minutes on top. So I’m just wondering how long you’ll last.”

“I can… I can go longer than five minutes.” You frowned through the lie. You definitely couldn’t. And you both knew it. 

You worked yourself faster on his cock, putting more weight on his chest to hover above him and circle your hips. Your thighs were already starting to ache, but you can’t stop. Especially after he just basically challenged you like that. Maybe that was his intention though. His hands moved up and down your quivering thighs and he let out a low chuckle. 

“You’re already shaking, baby.” Furrowing your brows and frowning, you sped up, eager to prove him wrong. The only noises filling the room were skin slapping skin and your panting. You dragged your nails down his chest and a low moan filled the room. Finally a reaction. 

Leaning down, you kissed across his chest as your hips slowed into a rocking motion. You moaned into his chest as your clit rubbed against his pelvis and decided to get to work on marking him. It’s not often that he lets you do this- he appreciates a mark or two every once in a while, but sometimes you just want to completely cover your boyfriend in bruises. And right now was one of those times. 

You felt the vibrations through his chest as he groaned when you sucked the skin below his collar bone into your mouth. 

Dick has always been very strict about hickeys on his neck- very big no no. Once you did it by accident and you couldn’t sit for two days. That was an overreaction to the situation mostly just for the sake of having fun with a punishment, but it’s still heavily frowned upon. 

So instead you chose to get as close to his neck as possible without disobeying him. Depending on what shirt he wears, they might be visible. 

You kissed your way up to the base of his neck by his shoulder and his hand gripped your hair in a warning. Trailing kisses up to his ear, you paused and could feel his shuddering breath on your neck. 

“Please?” You whispered, still slowly rocking your hips. “Wanna make sure everyone knows you're mine. Want them all to know how fucking needy you make me that I just can’t help myself and have to mark you.” You finished the sentence with a light kiss on his neck below his ear. 

Using his grip on your hair, he pulled your head back just enough so that he could look into your eyes. His gaze moved between them and you tried not to smirk at the fact that you were almost positive he was going to say yes. 

Swallowing thickly, you glanced at his lips and whispered one more “please.” His entire resolve fell. 

“One.” 

You almost fucking squealed. 

“One… on each side?” You asked sheepishly, trying to show that you’re mostly joking and not trying to actually be greedy right now. He bit his lip to contain his smile and all but rolled his eyes at you. 

“Fine. One on each side. Then that’s it.” Before he could even finish you were leaning forward to press your lips against his. He let out a surprised moan but relaxed into the kiss and then lightly nipped at your bottom lip. 

You made quick work of moving to his neck, carefully planning where you wanted them to go. The first one you decided to do a couple inches below his jaw and away from his ear. Your hips grew more frantic as you took your time, making sure it was as dark as possible before moving on. 

The hand in your hair moved back down to your hip and he snaked both hands around to squeeze your ass and guide your movements. You let out a low moan at the feeling of his nails digging into your skin, but continued kissing across his neck to the other side. 

This choice was easy. Barely an inch away from his adams apple. Unless he wore a really really tall turtleneck- that he doesn’t even own- there’s no hiding this. He seemed to know it too because he dug his nails into your ass until you gasped out in pain. You finished off the mark with a light nip at the purple skin, then pulled back to admire your work. 

“You look so fucking hot.” You groaned, leaning down and kissing him again. Rocking your hips faster and harder against him, you silently begged him to take over and pound you until you cried from overstimulation. 

“Don’t get used to it.” He mumbled into the kiss. You could feel his smile against your lips too. 

“Know what I want for our anniversary now.” You still didn’t pull away from the kiss, both of you too needy to pause just for a conversation. 

“Oh yeah?”

“Mhm. Unlimited hickeys wherever I want.” You smirked against his lips and you could practically feel him roll his eyes. Reluctantly he pulled back, bringing a hand up to your face and running his thumb over your bottom lip. 

“Can’t I just get you some diamond earrings or something instead?” He groaned playfully. 

“Nope. Some girls like diamonds. I like my man covered in hickeys.” You smiled and he scoffed a laugh. “Now I believe it’s been longer than five minutes.” Your smile turned into a smirk as he raised his brows. 

“All you did was rock your hips for the majority of it.” 

“I was still on top though. It counts.”

“Oh?” Once again, he effortlessly flipped you over, this time with his length never leaving you. “So this counts?” He started slowly rocking his hips into you and you rolled your eyes. 

“Just fuck me, Grayson.” 

“Baby… you’re already on your last chance. You sure that’s how you want to play it?” 

“What if I do?” You said breathlessly, bucking your hips, trying to get more friction. 

“If you do then you’re not coming and I’m not gonna fuck my load into your little cunt. I’ll come on your tits instead.” You bit your lip and he raised his brows as he waited for a response. God that sounds so fucking hot- But… him coming inside you sounds just slightly hotter. 

You frowned and looked away from him, mumbling a small “fine,” making him chuckle. 

“That’s what I thought. Now be a good girl and just lay there and let me use my fleshlight to make myself come.” He smirked and you let out a choked moan. Leaning up to sit on his knees, he took your hips in his hands and lifted your bottom half off the bed, then started drilling into you without mercy. You tried not to think about how fucking loud the sound of his thighs hitting your ass was. 

Instead, you focused on how his arm muscles are bulging even though he makes lifting you look completely effortless. You watched as he threw his head back with a low groan and you could feel yourself getting close. Almost as if he could sense you watching him, his head lifted back up until he was looking down at you. His gaze dragged down your body and when you looked down, you could see your tits moving with each thrust and you blushed at the sight. Looking down a little farther, you could see the tip of his cock bulging your stomach each time he pushed in. He seemed to notice that too. 

“See that, baby? See how deep I am? That’s where all my come is gonna go- right in your fucking womb.” You let out a loud moan and he chuckled. 

“You like the sound of that? You want me to breed you? Fuck a baby into you? Because I’m going to. Gonna fuck you so full of my come, you won’t have any choice but to get pregnant. Maybe I’ll even give you another load just to make sure.” He smirked and you let out a long, needy whine. He started panting as he thrusted into you even faster and you could tell he’s getting close. 

“Ready for your reward?” You nodded and he snickered at your eagerness. “I want you to ask nicely though. Do a good job begging and I’ll give it to you.” You didn’t have to be told twice. 

“Please, Dick. I- I want you to fill me up. Want you to fuck a baby into me.” You whined, wanting to squirm away from the ruthless bucking of his hips, but not being able to because of how you were being held up. 

“Look at you. Such a good little girl, following instructions so well.” He cooed and even though he was patronizing you, you melted all the same. “Since you’re such a good girl, I’m gonna give you what you want.” You ached to reach a hand down to rub at your clit but you knew he wouldn’t allow that. Not right now. 

His thrusts grew more erratic as he pulled your body to meet him half way until finally, he pulled you flush against him and let out a loud moan. He pushed into you so deep, the feeling against your cervix was almost uncomfortable. 

“Fuck- look at how deep my cock is, baby.” He all but whimpered and that made you clench around him. He moaned even louder as he rode out his orgasm, until he eventually quieted down, the only sounds audible being his heavy breathing and your needy whines. He set you down and leaned over you to press a soft kiss against your lips. 

“There we go. All filled up.” He rubbed your stomach where his cock was visible and you whimpered weakly. “You did such a good job making me come, sweetheart. I’m so proud of you.” 

“Please.” You whined, trying to buck your hips to get some friction. 

“You wanna come?” He asked, tilting his head like a puppy. You nodded and tried to suppress the tears of desperation starting to grow again. “I guess I did promise you something.” He said coyly as his lips curled up into a smirk. He leaned back up again and slowly dragged his cock out of you, wincing at the sensitivity. When he eagerly moved onto his stomach and hooked his arms under your legs, you blushed and let out a needy whine.  

“God- your little hole is so fucked out.” He groaned, eyes focused on your sex. When he leaned forward suddenly and sucked your clit into his mouth, your hips bucked against his face as your hands flew to his hair. 

“Oh fuck-“ You said through a moan, letting your eyes fall shut as you focused on the feeling. He paid attention to your clit for a while, licking and sucking, sometimes lightly biting, before moving back down to your hole. He fucked his tongue inside you, lapping up your shared arousal as he groaned against you. 

“Fuck- I’m so fucking close,” You sobbed out, pulling him closer by his hair as your hips continued rutting against him. He moaned in response and moved back up to your clit, now focused on drawing your orgasm out of you. Which didn’t take much longer when he slipped two fingers inside, curling them against your walls, making an embarrassing squelching sound with each movement. When your orgasm crashed over you, you had to bring a hand up to cover your mouth. Dick didn’t stop until your hips were twitching from the overstimulation and you were pulling on his hair, this time away from you, as you begged him to stop. Which he reluctantly did after another torturous few seconds. 

“Fuck.” He groaned, removing his fingers to suck them into his mouth, not wanting to waste a drop. “You taste so fucking good.” He said through a moan, crawling over your body to press his lips to yours. You were still catching your breath, breathing heavily through your nose as he kissed you. When he pulled back just enough so that only his nose brushed yours, you started panting, now breathless from the kiss. 

“Think they bought it?” He smirked and you covered your blushing face with a groan at the reminder. 

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