•You know how to ball, I know Aristotle •
Dick Grayson x Male Reader
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Synopsis - Two men fight over the love within your heart, crashing into your life in ways you never expected.
Word Count - 2.5k
The park was lively with hustle and bustle, from those setting off on a peaceful Sunday walk, to tired parents lounging across benches facing the busy playground centered within the park.
You sat alongside the party of parents on the numerous benches, busying yourself with catching up on planning events for the simple book shop you had managed to get employed at a while back.
It wasn't common for many people to pass by the cramped shop, let alone enter it.
Or rather enter it by crashing through the window, which two men seemed to have seen as the perfect landing for their fighting bodies.
The man dressed in a flamboyantly latex costume had stood up as though he hadn't just crashed through the thick layering of glass like a new born bird attempting to fly, performing tricks you had never seen done before, and tricks that probably shouldn't have been done in such a tight area.
He had struck quick, calculated blows to the cowering male who once had tried to put up a weak fight. Eventually the book shop had returned to it's quiet atmosphere - save from the hurried panting coming from both men.
It was clear who had won, and it certainly didn't seem to be the powerless man who had acquired a broken nose, and an even worse temper.
It appeared that the victor hadn't noticed the unimpressed scowl that rested upon your face as you took in the serious damage that had been inflicted upon the building.
It had been a few weeks since then, and as much as it had cost the shop to fix up the windows and clear all destructions, it had brought a large attraction to the hidden shop squashed beside other neighbouring buildings, which lead to you being entrusted with organising a book club for younger kids.You hoped that the many adults littering amongst the park would show up.
Though there was one man you wished wouldn't show up, atleast not in the same disgruntled manner of landing through your window.
Many would have gladly taken your place of standing so close to the handsome vigilante, watching his expertise in battle at such close range, watching the sweat drip from his hairline down to his cocky smirk.
Yet the ugly aftermath for you had simply been the tedious task of clearing away all the miniscule shards of glass that had been skewed across the polished wooden floors from Nightwing's crash landing.
It was a warm summer's day, many families had came out to soak up the loving yellow rays, and although the large ammounts of people bobbing about the outdoors, you had managed to seat yourself at a lonely bench, distant from the shrieking playground, from the roaring roads, yet it wasn't far enough from the soaring football that came landing straight upon you from the back. Slamming your head downwards at an awkward angle as it comedically bounced off your head, your pained yell at the hurled football that had appeared from nowhere had unfortunately alerted those around you to stare at the brightening flush that overcame you.
Some chose to quickly turn away, hiding their small chuckles at the sight of a man hunched over a notebook getting his head slammed into the table by an assumingly small boy's football, while some uttered words of reassurance as they checked you over for any injuries.
But the public embarrassment of what had just occurred was not something you could face, politely confirming your health to the crowd of strangers that had gathered around you before quickly shuffling down the winding path to the exit of the park. Your book bag slung across one shoulder as you try to ignore the pounding of your head, thankful you hadn't been faced with a concussion.
The strength of the ball that had hit you had been too strong for any kid to do, especially not accidentally, though you didn't brave on finding out who had exceeded such force into a game of football, if anything you felt bad for the poor guy who was up against such animalistic strength.
But just your luck, while you made a stealthy exit of the mortifying scene you had been put through, a chirp voice came running towards you, and didn't seem to stop no matter how much you sped up.
It didn't seem like you could easily maneuver yourself away from the person entailing you. With a sigh you slowly spun around, careful not to dizzy yourself, you didn't wish to embarrass yourself again.
And soon the panting man came to a stop, his cheeks flushed with a boyish red as he stood in front of you, who you recognised to be none other than Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne's first son.
An awkward silence stretched across the two of yous, until thankfully Dick broke the silence
"I saw my ball hitting you, I couldn't let you leave without apologising"
You could already feel the sweating flush of shame re - emerging as you had realised that it hadn't been just random strangers you would never see again who saw you get absolutely bodied by a football, no, amongst the crowd of onlookers, billionaire Bruce Wayne's son had to have been one of them. Who just had to sickeningly apologise after chasing after you.
Letting out a hurried nod you utter a small 'no worries' planning to head tail as soon as Dick turns from you. But no, he just had to continue digging up the onslaught of memories of what had just happened a few moments ago, your head still painfully throbbing as proof.
"I hadn't meant for it to hit you, dude! I was playing football with my younger brother and I just seemed to have lost control of the ball y'know,"
How Dick had expected his younger brother to be able to catch such a ball you couldn't understand. What kind of demon spawn of a child would be able to compete against such strength?
You had to get out of there, save yourself from the embarrassment of the earnest reply from the sickeningly sweet man, far away from his chiseled jaw, from his strong, muscular legs that were coated in a glistening tan that seemed to glow under the rays of the scorching sun, highlighting every tense muscle on display as he adorned a pair of black gym shorts.
"Are.. are you okay bro?"
Huh? Snapping yourself from the hypnotizing entrance his admirable physique had casted upon you, you gave him a quick smile, scratching your neck as you glance away from his face, realising he had caught your open mouthed stare that had been fixated upon his golden legs.
"Yeah, I'm fine, it didn't even hit me that hard, just unexpected"
There, that would do it, Dick would give a small chuckle as he agrees before running off to wherever he came from, freeing you from the cages of embarrassment- but no, such an ideal world did not exist, atleast not for you.
"You sure man? Your head almost crashed through the table! I thought for sure I had just taken you out.."
... Great. His concerned tone held no regard of judgement, yet the sense of humiliation ate you whole, refusing to allow you to even utter a futile attempt of saving yourself.
You hadn't realised he recognised you from the shabby book shop he had touched down in rather skilfully, (or so Dick would've liked to believe) I mean why would you with the flimsy mask he adorned himself with?
As you desperately pleaded internally for any higher being in the dazzling blue sky to strike you down, no sharp electrifying bolts were sent to your begs, but rather a small boy appearing from behind Dick like a trained assassin with the stealth he possessed. You recognised the tanned brown skin of Damian Wayne, the youngest son of the Wayne family. A pleasant smile curling in your lips, expecting him to save you from the disastrous encounter with Dick. What you weren't expecting was the fiery glare the young boy, no older than the age of 12, had upon his face, who he directed his irritation to ,you didn't know.
Before Damian could open his mouth, Dick quickly jumped ahead of him in an almost panicked matter,
"I was wondering if there was anything I could do to show my apologies?"
Maybe this had been the response of a generous God up above, finally hearing the pleas you had chanted like a mantra within your head. A pleased grin quickly took hold of your expression as you glance at his hopeful stare.
"Yes actually, there is something you could do for me."
You watched as Dick's face turns optimistic, nodding for you to continue with your want, expecting maybe a sum of money, a complex favour, or even a date over lunch, what he wasn't expecting however were the next words that flew out of your mouth,
"You see, I work at this bookshop, I'm not sure if you're aware of it I mean not many are, but I was tasked to organise a children's book club for an afternoon and I was wondering if you'd sign yourself up, alongside your brother of course, It would really help me out"
This time, it was Dick who had been stunned to silence, staring vacantly at you as he processed the request you had uttered. Before Dick could formulate any sort of sentence together, he sensed Damian's frustrations at being referred to with such a title, and quickly yelled out an answer, shocking both Damian and himself.
"We would love to go! I'll give you my number so you can keep me updated."
The forwardness of Dick quickly whipping out his phone took you by surprise. You hadn't seen the tight grip Dick held onto Damian with as he wordlessly begged Damian to follow along with this, the favours Dick were going to owe him for such sacrifice were bound to be never ending.
Handing over Dick's phone, your fingers grazing against one another, you murmured a quick 'thanks' offering a simple smile to the young Damian before navigating your way home, glancing back at the two brothers, the throbbing pain within your head had seemed to have been eased.
The two brothers stood still for a moment, before Damian disrupted the silence.
"What was that about Grayson, I am no child."
It took a few seconds for Dick to rip his eyes away from the fleeting figure of your silhouette, his lips curved into a simple smile.
"It wasn't up to me.. you heard him."
The rosey blush didn't go unnoticed by Damian, rolling his eyes as he stands poised, unbelieving of his brother's excuse.
You eventually make your way up the never ending staircase to your apartment, pushing the heavy door open you enter your simple living room, hanging your book bag on the front door as you slip your shoes off, sighing as you glance at the growing bump upon your head from the aftermath of Dick's collision.
How you had managed to exit the park with the phone number of Dick Grayson astounded you, though you weren't complaining.
Throwing yourself upon the bed, you cover your eyes with your heavy arm, needing to rest your head from the exhausting day forced upon you. You couldn't stop thinking of Dick and his puppy like smirk as he glanced down at you, you hadn't realised at the time how close the two of you had stood, recalling every freckle, pore and wrinkle that aesthetically decorated his face.
You wished you hadn't spent as much time trying to crawl into a hole of embarrassment, instead trying to preen yourself for Dick's potential admiration. You must've looked pathetic to him, a sizeable bump laying upon your head as your nerves prevented you from responding to his small talk, your eyes fixated upon the ground.
Rolling over with a groan as the sense of embarrassment once again surrounded you.
The familiar buzz of a notification stirred you from the weary feeling wrapped around you, your head jutting upwards at the hope of it being Dick.
"Me and my brother would be happy to come to your reading event, you'll be there won't you?"
An airy giggle left your mouth as you read his message, the tone of desperation reflecting in his words. You took a while to reply to his message, not wanting to seem too desperate.
"Well it is my event after all. Haha."
You cringed internally at your dry response, you really hadn't made a good impression, though that didn't deter Dick's chase.
"Great, excited to see you ;)"
"I realised I never got your name?"
Right, you had been too distracted by the pounding pain echoing throughout your head to even as much try to communicate like a regular person. This was your path to redemption.
"Oh really? It's (Y/N), you're Dick right?"
You knew it was Dick, you recognised him almost immediately from the countless magazines you possessed within your apartment with Dick displayed upon the front cover, to the many fan accounts of his you guiltily followed, you weren't a stalker, no, just an admirer like everyone else.
"Yeah, Dick Grayson. My brother's really looking forward to the book club, his friend wants to know if he can come along?"
A pleased smile grazed your face as you hurriedly typed back your appreciation, now you just had to actually plan the promised book club. You couldn't let Di- Damian down.
The walk to work had been something you had wished to avoid, having woken up early to open up the shop and to organise your area for the planned afternoon book club. A hint of anxiety embedding itself within you as you prepare yourself for the inevitable encounter with Dick.
Slowly opening the newly installed shutters, you pushed yourself into the warm shop, flicking on the decorated lights as you take in the many rows of crooked bookshelves, the pinned children's drawings upon many bullet boards, and the hanging paper garlands you had taken pride in crafting.
Flipping the closed sign to open you began your day of work, waiting for your co-workers to arrive for their shifts.
Dragging colourful bean bags to form a circle, you could feel the adrenaline pump through your veins at the thought of seeing Dick again, seeing his golden freckled skin crinkle with a smile, his wolfish teeth bared on show.
Every small, unnoticeable noise from the outside of the thick glass kept you on high alert, hoping to see the tall man bounding indoors.
You attention was fixated upon the glass, praying that this time, no masked vigilante would come crashing down in front of Dick, you refused to let Nightwing embarrass you in front of him.
Hopefully some criminal on the other side of town had attracted Nightwing's attention, far far away from your humble book club.
Your nerves grew higher as the starting time of the book club grew closer, yet still no sign of Dick nor of Damian. You tried not to let the disappointment spoil your hopes but as the book club soon began and three empty bean bags stared almost condescendingly at you, it was hard not to.
Eventually the other participants had gathered into their seats and still the Wayne's hadn't appeared, you figured they really would be no shows. However the show must go on, with or without them.
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