summary:Â Everyone sees Jason Todd as a monster - except one person who refuses to believe the rumors and keeps standing by his side, even as the danger grows closer. In a town built on fear and lies, the real question isnât who the killer is - but how long the truth can stay buried.
tags:Â NSFW 18+, Sexual Content, Ghostface Jason Todd, Dark AU, Scream AU, Serial Killer AU
a/n: I didn't proofread this because I seriously couldn't be bothered đ But I really wanted to post this part already. Now that it's done, it's finally time to work on my Dick in The Odyssey AU đ€
Part 1
The rest of the day passed surprisingly quickly. For the first time in weeks, the bar was busy. Not packed, but busy enough that neither of you had much time to stop. Customers laughed over drinks. The jukebox hummed softly in the background. It almost felt like the old days.
You caught yourself noticing something. The suspicious stares were gone. No one whispered when Jason walked past, no one hurried to leave the moment he stepped behind the counter. People smiled and joked with him. Some even wished him a speedy recovery.
Funny.
Only a month ago, half the city had been convinced Jason Todd was Ghostface. Now⊠Ghostface had stabbed Jason. As far as everyone else was concerned, that cleared his name.
You looked across the room. Jason was drying a glass, quietly listening to one of the regulars complain about Gotham traffic. Nobody looked at him with fear anymore, nobody suspected him. So that's why...
Your chest tightened. That's why he did it. The wounds, the blood, the ambulance, the hospital. It had never been about surviving. It had been about convincing everyone he couldn't possibly be Ghostface. You had to admit...
It was a terrifyingly clever plan.
Nearly midnight, the last customer waved goodbye before disappearing into the cool Gotham night. Jason locked the front door behind them before flipping the sign from OPEN to CLOSED. Silence settled over the bar once again. You began collecting the empty glasses while Jason counted the register.
"You can leave the rest," he said after a moment.
"I've got it." You looked up.
"You sure?"
"Yeah."
He closed the register with a soft click.
"You've done enough today."
You smiled.
"I don't mind helping."
"I know."
For a brief second, neither of you moved. The quiet wasn't awkward anymore. It was⊠Comfortable. Jason grabbed his jacket from the back of a chair.
"I'll see you tomorrow?"
"You will."Â
He hesitated for just a heartbeat before stepping closer.
"Thanks."Â
You frowned slightly.
"For what?"
"For... sticking around." The words were simple. But something in the way he said them made your heart skip a beat. You smiled softly.
"There wasn't anywhere else I'd rather be."
Jason looked at you for a long moment. Almost as though he wanted to say something. Instead⊠He just smiled.
"Good night."
"Good night, Jason."
He pushed open the door and disappeared into the darkness outside. You remained standing where you were. Watching until he vanished around the corner. Only then did you let out the breath you'd been holding. You should've gone home, but instead you grabbed your jacket, locked the bar behind you and quietly followed him.
Keeping your distance wasn't difficult. The streets were still busy enough that you blended into the evening crowd without much effort. Jason never looked back. His hands were shoved into the pockets of his jacket as he walked through downtown Gotham at an unhurried pace. You stayed half a block behind him.
What are you doing? The question echoed through your mind with every step. You weren't following him because you wanted to stop him. You weren't even sure what you hoped to find. Answers? Maybe. Proof? Or perhaps⊠You simply wanted to know whether the man you'd fallen for disappeared every night wearing a Ghostface mask.
Jason turned into a narrow alley and you hesitated. For a brief moment, you considered turning around. This is stupid. But before you could make up your mindâ
You heard footsteps behind you. Too late.
Something hard slammed into the back of your head. A sharp burst of pain exploded behind your eyes. You gasped, stumbling forward. The world tilted violently when your knees hit the pavement. Everything around you blurred. You tried to turn. Tried to see who had attacked you. All you caught was a glimpse of black fabric. A white mask. Ghostface. No⊠Darkness swallowed you whole.
Consciousness returned slowly. Your head pounded. Every heartbeat sent another wave of pain through your skull. You groaned, trying to lift a hand to your temple. It wouldn't move.
Your eyes snapped open. Metal cuffs dug painfully into your wrists. You were tied to a wooden chair in the middle of a dimly lit room. Concrete walls. One flickering light hanging from the ceiling. The air smelled of dust and dampness.
A movement in front of you caught your attention. Two figures stood in the corner. Long black robes, white masks. Ghostface. Your breathing hitched. One of them looked at the other.
"Handle it." The voice was distorted through a voice changer.
The second Ghostface gave a small nod. Without another word, the first one turned and disappeared through the metal door. The heavy lock clicked behind him.
Silence.
The remaining Ghostface slowly stepped closer. Every instinct screamed at you to pull away. Instead⊠You stared with a racing heart.
"...Jason?"
The figure froze. For a long moment, neither of you moved. Then...
With an annoyed sigh, he reached up and pulled the mask off. Dark hair, green eyes. Jason. He looked at you for a long second before speaking.
"...How?" His voice was quiet. Controlled. "How did you know it was me?"
You let out a shaky laugh.
"I guessed."
His expression didn't change.
"You guessed."
"I recognized the way you move." A lie.
Jason narrowed his eyes.
"You've known longer than tonight."
Your silence answered for you. His jaw tightened.
"...Tell me."
You swallowed.
"The basement."
He frowned.
"What?"
"The day you were taken to the hospital." You held his gaze despite your racing heart. "I was cleaning the bar. I accidentally knocked a box off the shelf."
His expression changed instantly.
"I saw everything. The mask. The robe. The knives. The voice changer."
Silence filled the room. Jason slowly looked away. Almost as if replaying that entire day in his head.
"...You found the box." You nodded. "And you didn't tell anyone."
"No."
He looked back at you. There was no anger in his face. No panic. Just... disbelief.
"You've known for weeks."
"Yes."
"You kept coming to work."
"Yes."
"You acted like nothing happened."
"I tried."
Jason let out a slow breath and rubbed a hand across his face. Another long silence settled between you. Finally, he looked at the handcuffs around your wrists. Then back into your eyes. His voice was barely above a whisper.
"...Now I don't know what I'm supposed to do with you." Jason studied you for a long moment, his expression impossible to read. The silence stretched until it became almost unbearable.
"You don't have to do anything," you said quietly. "I'm not going to tell anyone."
"You really expect me to believe that?" He let out a humorless laugh.
"It's the truth."
"You know I'm a murderer."
"I know what I found."
"Those aren't the same thing." His jaw tightened.
"Maybe not." You swallowed. "But if I wanted to turn you in, I would've done it weeks ago. The police searched the bar that day. I could've told them exactly where to look."
"You didn't." Jason's eyes searched yours, looking for the slightest hint of a lie.
"No."
He stepped closer until barely a foot separated you.
"Why?"
You hesitated before answering.
"Because I wanted to hear the truth from you before I let the rest of Gotham decide who you are."
His gaze lingered on your face. Slowly, almost absentmindedly, he reached out and brushed a loose strand of hair away from your cheek. His fingertips lingered for just a second before his hand rested lightly against the side of your face.
"I don't know if I can trust you," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.
"You already have. I've known your secret for weeks." Your eyes never left his. "If I was going to betray you... I already would have."
Jason didn't answer.
He simply looked at you, as though trying to decide whether the woman sitting in front of him was the biggest mistake of his life... or the only person who had ever truly chosen to stay.
Jason's thumb pressed against your lower lip as your teeth grazed the skin, a low growl rumbling from his chest. You parted your lips wider, drawing the digit fully into your warm mouth, tongue swirling around it while you sucked with deliberate pressure. You hollowed your cheeks, eyes locked on his exposed face.
He watched intently, free hand sliding down to grip your cuffed wrist. The basement air hung thick with tension. Jason reached down and the click of the cuffs releasing your wrists echoing in the dim basement.Â
Your hands fell free, and without hesitation you slid off the seat to kneel before him on the cold floor. He stripped the robe over his head in one motion, tossing it aside to bare his muscular frame. Your fingers hooked into his waistband, yanking his pants down hard. His thick cock sprang out, already hard and veined, the head flushed dark. You wrapped your hand around the shaft, stroking once before leaning in, his eyes widening.
Jason gripped your hair, pulling your mouth toward his exposed length. You opened wide, tongue flicking over the tip to taste the bead of precum before sucking him deep, cheeks hollowing as you bobbed. Saliva dripped down your chin. Jason growled low in his chest and rocked his hips, driving his cock a little farther into your throat with each shallow thrust. The wet, obscene sounds of your mouth filled the basement.
Jason's cock throbbed violently against your tongue. His grip on your hair turned brutal as his hips snapped forward one final time, burying every inch down your throat. A guttural growl ripped from his chest, raw and animalistic, as thick ropes of cum erupted straight into your mouth. Some of it spilled from the corners of your lips, mixing with the saliva already coating your chin. Jason held you there, nose crushed against his pubic bone, forcing you to take every pulse, every spurt, until his balls finally emptied. Only then did he ease his grip, letting you pull back enough to breathe.
Dick Grayson x crazygf! reader and Jason Todd x crazygf!reader
Summary: You find out that they still kind of talk to their ex. It's professional, but you're not over it.
TW: Kind of smutty, death mentioned (Jason's part)
DICK GRAYSON
"Just answer the fucking question, Dick! Did you sleep with her in the Batcave? Yes or no?â
"No!" Dick groaned, dragging his hands down his face, his voice cracking with frustration. His eyes were bloodshot. "We did not do it in the Batcave. Why the fuck are we talking about this right now? It is two in the morning!"
"Because I looked at your phone and her name is 'Babs đ¶ïž'!"
"That's a chili pepper! It means she handles the red-alert comms, you psychotic brat! Itâs an emergency tag!"
"I don't care! It looks like a fucking sexting emoji!" You dropped to your knees on the mattress, crawling over to him and slamming your knees right into his thighs. You grabbed his jaw, fingers digging into his skin, forcing him to look at you. "Whoâs the better kisser? Me or her? Don't lie to me. Did you guys used to make out on roofs? Did she use tongue? Does she do that little sigh thing I do when you touch her? Tell me!"
"Jesus Christ, Babe," Dick choked out, his chest heaving, looking genuinely stressed. "You are lightyears better. You're fucking incredible. Please, look at me, you're the only one I want. Can we please stop this?"
"No! Because Iâm prettier than her, right? Obviously Iâm prettier. Look at my fucking face." You shoved your face inches from his, your eyes wide. "But sheâs so good with your dad! Ugh! It makes me want to vomit! She talks to Bruce, and he actually responds like a human being! I tried to talk to him last week and he treated me like I was gum on the bottom of his shoe! She has history with your fucked-up family, Dick! Did you guys fuck while you were living there? In his house?!"
"No! Never! I swear to God, never!" Dickâs hands came up, grabbing your wrists, his palms sweating. He looked completely panicked now. "Babe, please, youâre making shit up. I hate when Bruce does that to people, I literally moved to BlĂŒdhaven to get away from him. I don't want her. I don't want any of them. I want you."
"Are you sure?" you whimpered, the anger turning desperate. You shifted, straddling his lap entirely, your bare thighs rubbing hard against his sweatpants, feeling how stiff he already was despite the stress. "Because she has that red hair. You like the red hair, don't you? Did you pull it? Did you bend her over the fucking desk in the cave?"
Dickâs grip tightened on your hips, an irritated groan escaping his lips. He was miserable that you were this upset, but the feeling of you grinding against his crotch was pushing him over the edge. "I didn't bend her over anything. Stop saying that shit, itâs making me sick. I don't give a fuck about her. Right now, I care about the fact that youâve been screaming at me for forty minutes, your nipples are hard against my chest, and youâre tearing me apart."
"I'm upset babe, youâre friends with your fucking ex!" you snapped, tears of pure rage blurring your vision. "You talk to her every day! I feel like a fucking idiot!"
"Babe, youâre losing your fucking mind, please don't cry," Dick mumbled, his voice breaking as he pulled you down, burying his face in your neck, holding you so tight it bruised. He was completely desperate to fix it, terrified you were actually going to leave him. He nipped hard at the skin right over your collarbone. "You want to know what we did? Nothing like this. She never made me feel like this. She never made me want to rip my own hair out just to get her to shut up and take my dick."
"You're just saying that," you panted, your legs already wrapping around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer, feeling him throbbing against your cunt through his pants. "You're just trying to manipulate me because you know your body is perfect."
"I'm not manipulating you, Iâm fucking begging you," he hissed, flipping you under him so fast your head hit the pillow. He pinned your hands above your head, his face paler than usual "Look at me. Look at my eyes. I will block her number right now if you want me to. I'll do whatever the fuck you want. Just tell me you're mine."
"Prove it then," you choked out, pulling at his sweatpants "Put it in me right now and make me forget her fucking name."
"Shut up," he muttered, slamming his mouth down on yours, cutting off any other unhinged theories you had left as his hand ripped his sweats down.
JASON TODD
"Who the fuck is 'Artie'?" you shrieked. "Who the fuck is she, Jason? Because I just saw a message pop up on your secure line that said 'Rain check, Big Guy,' and I know for a goddamn fact it isn't one of your freak-show brothers!"
Jason froze, his knuckles turning white around the rifle barrel. He set it down with a heavy clatter and finally looked up, his green eyes flashing. "Are you fucking kidding me right now? Youâre going through my secure comms? Are you out of your goddamn mind?"
"Answer the fucking question!" You stepped right into his chest, shoving him hard enough to make his boots slide an inch "Is that Artemis? The giant Amazon? The one you were playing house with in the desert? Are you still fucking her? Whyâd she call you âbig guyâ!? Your dickâs not even that big!â
"We havenât done shit since before I even knew you existed!" Jason argued, standing up to his full height, towering over you as his chest heaved. "Sheâs a teammate! What the fuck is wrong with you?"
"Oh, a teammate? So you didn't bend her over that ancient shit in Egypt?" you screamed right back, getting entirely in his face, your chest heaving against his. "Did you taste her? Did she taste better than me? Did you love it when she pinned you down, you fucking manwhore? Tell me right now! Did you put your mouth on her?!"
"We didn't fuck in the desert! We were trying not to get killed, you crazy bitch!" Jason snapped, his eyes were glowing green. He grabbed your wrists with an iron-tight grip, his fingers digging into your skin as he shook you. "You are making up disgusting, toxic shit in your head because you're insecure! Stop fucking yelling at me about shit from six years ago!"
"Is it because I'm not as strong as her?!" you went off, completely pivoting into a breathless rant, the words tearing out of you like a flood. "Is that what it is? You want some giant warrior bitch who can toss you around? Or is it the red hair? Are you obsessed with redheads? Is that why you're always so fucking chummy with her and Roy?! Oh my god, do you want to fuck Roy too?! Are you into guys?! Because I'm not a fucking guy, Jason! I can't be a guy for you! What the fuck do you want from them, do you want a threesome or some shit?! Is that what you guys do when you're 'saving the world'?!"
"Are you fucking insane?!" Â his face twisting in pure, unadulterated disgust and fury. He yanked your wrists down so hard your balance broke.Â
"Then why are they always texting you?! Why are you always looking at your phone like you miss them?!" you screamed back, your face flushed, tears of absolute blind rage spilling over your eyelashes. "If you're still playing orgy with your little Outlaw club, then I guess it's fair game! Iâm gonna fuck my ex!â
"Say that shit again," he snapped. "Say youâre going to go touch another man. Say youâre going to let someone else lay a hand on you. See what fucking happens to both of you. I will hunt him down and paint the fucking walls with him."
"Why do you care?!" you choked out, your heart hammering against your ribs "Go call your Amazon! Go tell Roy how crazy I am while you guys jerk each other off!"
"She was before you! And Roy is my fucking brother!" Jason groaned, you were getting so deep under his skin. "Do you not understand how time works, you idiot?! I havenât touched her, I don't want to touch her, and I sure as hell don't want a goddamn man I consider my brother! But you want to go fuck your ex?â
"Yeah! Because you're driving me fucking insane!" you screamed back, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, pulling him deeper into the apex of your thighs. You could feel how insanely hard he was through his sweatpants "You're a liar! You're a dirty, lying fuckboy!"
"Shut the fuck up!" Jason snarled, his hand flying from your throat to catch your jaw, his thumb digging brutally into your cheek to force your mouth open. "I am not a liar. I am fucking obsessed with you. I haven't looked at another woman since the day I went out with you, and you're being a loonâ
"Prove it then," you panted, your teeth baring as you bit down lightly on his thumb "If they're nothing, text them right now telling them we broke up and if either of them offer you a pity fuck, just know youâre going to die a second time, Toddâ
A/n: was this a ploy to get banged hard? yes, yes it was
summary:Â Everyone sees Jason Todd as a monster - except one person who refuses to believe the rumors and keeps standing by his side, even as the danger grows closer. In a town built on fear and lies, the real question isnât who the killer is - but how long the truth can stay buried.
tags:Â Ghostface Jason Todd, Dark AU, Scream AU, Serial Killer AU
a/n: I was only supposed to rewrite the smut scene, but I somehow ended up rewriting the entire fic instead đ If any of you somehow remember the first version⊠please forget it ever existed đ
Part 2
The first thing you noticed was the graffiti. Even from the other side of the street, the red letters stood out against the dark brick walls of the bar. KILLER. The paint had already dried, leaving uneven streaks running down the wall like old blood. Someone had tried to smash one of the windows too. A spiderweb of cracks spread across the glass, though it had somehow stayed intact.
Your stomach tightened. Again. It was becoming almost routine. Every few days there was something new. Graffiti. Broken bottles. Anonymous threats shoved beneath the door. As if the entire town had already decided Jason Todd was Ghostface.
You sighed quietly and crossed the street, fishing your keys out of your bag. Then you stopped, because the front door was already slightly open. Not wide. Just enough to leave a thin strip of darkness visible inside. Jason never left the bar unlocked. Never. A cold knot settled in your stomach.
"Jason?" you called carefully.
No answer. For a long moment you simply stood there, staring at the doorway. Maybe he'd forgotten to lock up. Maybe someone had broken in. You pushed the thought away.
Slowly, you stepped inside. The familiar smell of stale beer and lemon cleaner hit you immediately. The bar was quiet. Too quiet.
One of the stools lay on its side. Several glasses had shattered across the floor. A chair was overturned near the pool table. Your pulse quickened.
"Jason?"
Still nothing. Thenâ
A low groan echoed from somewhere behind the counter. Your heart nearly stopped. You rushed forward. Jason was sitting on the floor with his back against the cabinets beneath the register. His black T-shirt was soaked with blood. One hand pressed hard against his side while the other rested limply across his lap. Blood had already pooled beneath him, staining the wooden floor. His head lifted slowly at the sound of your footsteps.
"...You're here." Relief washed over his face for the briefest second before it disappeared behind a pained grimace.
"Oh my God." You dropped to your knees beside him so quickly your bag slid off your shoulder and hit the floor.
"What happened?"
Jason let out a shaky breath "...Ghostface."
For a split second, all you could do was stare at Jason. Blood kept seeping through his fingers no matter how hard he pressed against the wound in his side. Your hands were shaking so badly you almost dropped your phone.
"Jason... Are you okay?"
He let out a strained laugh that sounded more like a cough.
"I've had... better mornings."
You fumbled with your phone and dialed 911, nearly pressing the wrong numbers twice.
"911, what's your emergency?"
"Myâ" Your voice caught in your throat. "My boss has been attacked. He's been stabbed."
The dispatcher immediately began asking questions, but your attention never left Jason. His face had turned noticeably paler, his breathing slower.
"Please," you whispered, grabbing his free hand. "Just stay awake."
"I'm trying."
The police arrived first. Red and blue lights flooded the empty street outside while two officers rushed into the bar, weapons drawn, clearing every room before giving the all clear.
Seconds later, paramedics pushed through the doorway with a stretcher. You were gently pulled away despite your protests. One of the paramedics knelt beside Jason while another cut through the blood-soaked fabric of his shirt.
"Pressure's dropping."
"We need to move."
Jason winced as they lifted him onto the stretcher. For one brief moment, his eyes found yours.
"You okay?"
You almost laughed. He was the one covered in blood.
"I'm fine," you whispered, tears threatening to spill. "Just... don't die, okay?"
A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"I'll do my best."
Then they wheeled him outside.
You stood frozen in the doorway, watching the ambulance disappear into the rain.
The bar stayed full of people for another hour. Police officers photographed every bloodstain, every broken chair, every shattered glass. Detectives dusted for fingerprints, bagged pieces of evidence, and asked you the same questions over and over.
Had you seen anyone? Had Jason mentioned receiving threats? Did he have enemies?
You answered honestly.
By the time the last patrol car finally pulled away, the afternoon had faded into evening. Silence settled over the bar. For the first time all day, you were completely alone. You looked around slowly. Broken glass. Overturned stools. Yellow evidence markers still sitting on the floor where the police had forgotten to collect them. Jason's blood.
Your chest tightened painfully. Without really thinking, you grabbed a bucket, fresh water, and a mop. The police were finished. Someone still had to clean. You scrubbed the floor in silence. Each crimson stain disappeared beneath cloudy water until only damp wood remained. You hated how ordinary it felt. As if wiping away the blood could somehow erase what had happened.
Hours seemed to pass before the bar looked remotely presentable again. Your back ached. Your hands smelled like bleach. You picked up the broom and empty bucket. Might as well put everything back where it belonged.
The basement was cold. A single pull-chain light flickered weakly overhead as you made your way down the narrow wooden stairs. The storage room looked exactly as alwaysâold liquor boxes stacked against the walls, shelves overflowing with cleaning supplies, broken furniture Jason kept insisting he'd fix "one day." You leaned the broom against one of the shelves.
As you turned to leave, your shoulder accidentally bumped the stack beside you.
"Oh."
The shelf wobbled. One cardboard box slid forward. Then another.
"Oh, shitâ"
Before you could catch them, the top box crashed onto the concrete floor. Its contents spilled everywhere. A long black robe, a hunting knife, a white mask.
The mask rolled across the floor before stopping directly against your shoe. Your breathing stopped.
"No..."
You slowly crouched. Your trembling fingers picked up the mask. It couldn't be. It couldn't...
Your eyes darted back toward the open box. There was more. Black gloves, several spare knives, a voice changer, newspaper clippings, photographs. Every single victim had their face circled in red marker. Your heart pounded so hard it hurt.
Jason. Ghostface.
Your gaze drifted to the knife lying beside the robe. Dried blood still stained the blade. Slowly, your hand slipped into your pocket and wrapped around your phone. Your thumb hovered over the emergency call button. One press. That's all it would take. Jason would be arrested. The killings would stop⊠Wouldn't they?
You closed your eyes. Every victim flashed through your mind.
Councilman Harris. Beloved by the entire city. Until it came out he'd been taking bribes for years.
Coach Miller. Respected. Admired. Later exposed for abusing the teenagers under his care.
Richard Evans. Perfect husband. Perfect father. Until his wife finally escaped and told the police what happened behind closed doors.
None of them had been innocent. You looked down at the mask again. Jason had murdered them. There was no denying that anymore.
But...
He hadn't chosen them at random. Your thumb slowly moved away from the call button. With shaking hands, you placed every item back inside the box exactly as you'd found it. The mask was the last thing to disappear beneath the black robe. You pushed the box back onto the shelf. As though nothing had ever fallen. As though you'd never seen any of it. Only then did you pick up the broom again and climb the stairs, carrying a secret that suddenly felt far heavier than the bucket in your other hand.
Three weeks passed. Life in Gotham never really returned to normal. Ghostface kept killing. Another body was found behind an abandoned warehouse. Then a week later, another. The newspapers called him unstoppable. The police called him a psychopath.
You sat through every news report with the same question circling your mind.
If Jason was lying in a hospital bed... who had been wearing the mask?
There had to be someone else. An accomplice. Someone who knew everything. Someone just as dangerous. You caught yourself studying people more often. Customers. Neighbors. Even the detectives investigating the murders. Anyone could be Ghostface. Anyone except Jason. Not during those first few days when he was barely able to stand.
By the time Jason returned to work, most of the stitches were gone. The bruises remained. So did the faint stiffness in the way he moved whenever he thought nobody was looking.
You had arrived early that morning to prepare the bar for opening. The chairs were already off the tables. Coffee was brewing in the small kitchen. You were arranging clean glasses behind the counter when the front door opened. The familiar sound made you look up automatically. Jason. For a second, your brain simply stopped working. He looked thinner. Paler. A fading bruise disappeared beneath the collar of his black T-shirt, and a small white bandage peeked out near his neck.
But he was standing. He was alive. Relief hit you so suddenly your body reacted before your brain could catch up.
"Jason!"
You hurried around the counter and crossed the room in seconds. Without thinkingâ You threw your arms around him. Jason froze. You felt every muscle in his body tense beneath your embrace. For one awkward heartbeat, neither of you moved. Then, slowly⊠Almost cautiously⊠His arms came up around your back. The hug was hesitant, gentle. Like he wasn't entirely sure he was allowed to touch you.
"You scared the hell out of me," you mumbled into his shoulder.
His heartbeat felt steady beneath your cheek. Real, alive.
"I noticed." His voice was softer than usual.
You stayed like that for another second before reality crashed over you. Oh my God. What were you doing? You pulled away so quickly you nearly stumbled over your own feet.
"Iâ" Heat rushed to your face. "I'm so sorry." You looked anywhere except at him. "I just... I was worried."
The words sounded painfully inadequate. Jason rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.
"It's okay."
Silence settled between you. You suddenly found the floor fascinating.
"You probably shouldn't be hugging your boss like that," you muttered, half to yourself. A quiet laugh escaped him.
"I think I'll survive."
You risked looking up. He was already watching you. There was something unreadable in his eyes. Something warm, something that made your heart beat just a little faster. Neither of you noticed the smile tugging at the corners of the other's mouth.
The awkward silence lasted only a moment before Jason cleared his throat.
"So..." He glanced around the empty bar. "We should probably get this place ready before people start showing up."
"Right." You hurried back behind the counter, grateful to have something to do besides stare at him.
For the next several minutes, neither of you spoke much. You wiped down the countertop while Jason checked the liquor inventory, quietly crossing bottles off a clipboard. It almost felt⊠Normal.
"So," Jason said eventually, setting the clipboard aside. "I'm gonna grab a few bottles from the basement."
Your hand froze around the dishcloth. You forced yourself to nod.
"Sure."
You watched him disappear through the storage room door. Your eyes remained fixed on the doorway long after he'd vanished down the stairs. Is he checking the box? The thought appeared before you could stop it. Does he know someone found it? Is he making sure everything's still there? You swallowed hard. For one irrational moment, you almost followed him.
A minute later, Jason returned carrying two bottles tucked under one arm. He looked completely... normal. As though he'd done nothing more than restock supplies. As though there wasn't a box hidden somewhere downstairs containing a Ghostface mask and bloodstained knives.
"I'll slice up some lemons." you said, putting the cloth on the counter.
"No, I'll do it." Before you could protest, he'd already picked up the chef's knife.
You stood frozen. The blade moved effortlessly beneath his hand. Slice. Slice. Slice. Each cut was clean, precise. Almost... practiced. Your stomach tightened. Had he always handled a knife like that? You honestly couldn't remember. Maybe he had. Maybe you had simply never paid attention before. Now, you couldn't look away. The knife flashed beneath the lights as another perfect slice fell onto the cutting board.
Jason suddenly stopped. He looked up. His green eyes met yours.
"...Everything okay?"
You blinked.
"What?"
"You've been staring at me for the past minute."
Heat rushed to your face. Great. You'd been caught. A smile spread across your lips before you could stop it.
"Everything's perfect."
For a second, Jason simply looked at you. Then one corner of his mouth lifted into a small, amused smile.
"...You're weird."
"I've been told."
He chuckled softly and went back to slicing lemons. You looked away first. Not because of the knife. But because that smile made your heart race just as much as the secret hidden beneath the bar.
summary: You were supposed to be Dick Graysonâs perfect alibi. Instead, somewhere between late-night kisses and whispered âI love youâs, Gothamâs Ghostface killer fell in love with his final girl. Unfortunately for you, discovering his secret only makes him want to keep you even closer.
tags: NSFW 18+, Chase Kink, Sexual Content, Fingering, Vaginal sex, Unprotected Sex, Scream AU, Ghostface Dick Grayson, Dark AU, Toxic Relationship, Possessive Dick, Manipulation, Violence, Power Imbalance
a/n: Have I finally learned how to write decent smut scenes? I hope so haha
Part 1 Part 2
With a weary sigh, you climbed out of your car and looked toward the front door of your house. Another message. Bright red paint dripped slowly down the white wood âLIYING BITCHâ. You closed your eyes for a brief moment. This was the third one this week.
Ever since Dick Grayson had been arrested two weeks ago, something like this happened every couple of days. Anonymous letters. Broken flower pots. Slashed tires. Graffiti covering your front door. The city had already made up its mind. No one believed you. According to Gotham, you weren't a victim. You were the woman who had falsely accused Bruce Wayne's adopted sonâthe city's beloved golden boyâof being Ghostface. The tabloids had ripped you apart within hours. "Jealous ex-girlfriendâ, "Attention seekerâ, "Another failed attempt to ruin the Wayne family's reputation."Â
The internet had been even worse. People posted your address. Your workplace. Photos of you. Some even called for you to be arrested instead. Only Commissioner Gordon had stood by your side. He had believed you from the very beginning. And thanks to himâand him aloneâDick was still sitting in a holding cell despite Bruce Wayne's team of expensive lawyers fighting relentlessly to get him released.
You stared at the fresh paint covering your front door. Normally, you would've grabbed a bucket and started scrubbing. Not today. Today, you were too tired to care.
Work had been a nightmare. Every whispered conversation seemed to stop the moment you walked into the room. Coworkers stared. Customers recognized you from the news. Even your manager, who hadn't openly accused you of lying, suddenly found impossible tasks for you to complete before the end of every shift.
It felt less like work...
...and more like punishment.
All you wanted now was a hot shower, something to eat, and a few hours where you didn't have to think about Dick Grayson.
You unlocked the front door and stepped inside. The silence of the house wrapped around you almost immediately. For the first time all day, you allowed yourself to breathe.
Then your phone rang. You closed your eyes. Of course. With an exhausted sigh, you reached into your pocket and pulled it out. Commissioner Gordon. A knot formed in your stomach. You answered almost immediately.
"Hello?"
There was a pause. Then Gordon spoke.Â
"I'm sorry." His voice was quiet, heavy. "I did everything I could." Your grip on the phone tightened and your heart sank before he even finished the sentence. "They're releasing him today."
For a moment⊠You forgot how to breathe.
"No..." you whispered. The word barely left your lips. "No... no, no..." Your knees nearly gave out beneath you, forcing you to lean against the kitchen counter. "This can't be happening."
"I'm sorry," Gordon repeated. "The judge ruled there isn't enough evidence to hold him any longer."
You squeezed your eyes shut. The mask. The knife. The blood. Everything. Gone. Dick had been right. He had hidden every piece of evidence before the police ever arrived.
"I told you," you whispered, your voice beginning to shake. "I told you he knew this would happen."
On the other end of the line, Gordon remained silent. Because he knew. He remembered Dick's smug smile at the station. He remembered the confidence in his eyes. "I'll see you again soon." It hadn't been a bluff.
"How am I supposed to stay calm?" you burst out, tears stinging your eyes. "He's coming for me, Gordon! I know he is!" Your breathing became uneven. "What if he comes here tonight?"
"He won't," Gordon said firmly.
"Butâ"
"He won't." His voice was calm, steady, the kind that demanded to be believed. "I'm not going to let him get anywhere near you." You pressed the heel of your hand against your forehead, trying to steady your breathing. "I already have a plan," Gordon continued. âI need you to pack a bag. Only the essentials."
"Why?"
"I'm coming to pick you up. I have an old friend who owns a cabin deep in the woods. It's almost two hours outside Gotham. No neighbors. No tourists. No cell service. Nobody knows about it." A shiver ran down your spine. "You'll stay there until we figure out our next move."
You swallowed hard. "...And what if he finds me anyway?"
Gordon didn't answer immediately. When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter than before. "He won't find you. Not there."
That had been a week ago. Seven endless days.
Seven days of hiding in a cabin buried deep in the woods, where the silence was so complete it sometimes made your ears ring. No internet. No signal. No television. Just towering pine trees stretching endlessly beyond the windows, the occasional sound of birds outside... and your own thoughts.
You were beginning to hate your own thoughts.
At first, the isolation felt like a relief. Nobody knew where you were. Nobody could scream and insult you. Nobody could throw paint at your door or post your picture online.
But after a week...
The silence became unbearable.
Gordon stopped by every few days, bringing groceries, fresh batteries, and newspapers. He never stayed long. Just enough to make sure you were alright before driving back to Gotham. During his last visit, he had mentioned something that refused to leave your mind.
Dick hadn't denied your accusations. He hadn't lashed out at the press. He hadn't called you a liar. Quite the opposite. According to Gordon, every time a reporter shoved a microphone in his face, Dick had calmly insisted that none of this was your fault.
"She's been through something traumatic.", "She's confused.", "She genuinely believes what she's saying.", "Please stop harassing her."
It didn't make any sense. If he hated you for turning him in⊠Why would he protect you?
You sighed quietly, sitting cross-legged on the bed with your phone resting in your hands. There was no signal, no new messages, no notifications. Only your photo gallery. Your thumb hesitated above the screen before tapping it open. Hundreds of pictures. You smiled despite yourself. Dick asleep on your couch with Haley sprawled across his chest. The two of you covered in flour after attempting to bake cookies. A blurry selfie from your first trip together. A video of Dick laughing so hard he nearly dropped his coffee after you tried to imitate Bruce's serious voice.
Your chest tightened. None of it looked fake, none of it felt fake. Every smile. Every laugh. Every lazy Sunday morning tangled together beneath the blankets. Every whisper âI love youâ. You remembered the way he'd always absentmindedly reached for your hand whenever you walked together. The way he'd kiss your forehead while you were studying. The way he'd stay up all night whenever you got sick, refusing to leave your side.
Could someone really fake that?Â
Your finger stopped on one particular picture. It had been taken only a week before everything fell apart. Dick was looking at you instead of the camera, smiling with that same soft expression he always wore whenever he thought you weren't paying attention. You remembered that moment. He had told you he loved you and you had believed him⊠You still wanted to.
Your throat tightened.
"No..." you whispered to yourself, quickly locking the screen. You squeezed your eyes shut. You had seen the mask, the knife, the blood. Stephanie was dead. None of that changed. And yet...
The longer you stay alone with your thoughts⊠The more your memories refused to fit neatly beside the monster everyone insisted Dick Grayson truly was. For the first time since escaping his house⊠A terrible question slipped into your mind.Â
What if loving me was the only thing he had never lied about?
With a quiet sigh, you set your phone down on the nightstand. The room fell silent once again. You rubbed your tired eyes, letting your head fall back for a moment as you stared at the wooden ceiling. Thinking about Dick wasn't getting you anywhere. Every memory only seemed to raise more questions than answers. You needed to stop thinking, at least for a little while.
Slowly, you climbed off the bed and made your way to the bathroom, your bare feet creaking softly against the old wooden floorboards. The cabin was small, but cozy. Gordon's friend had clearly taken good care of it over the years. Everything smelled faintly of pinewood and old books, the kind of comforting scent that almost made you forget why you were hiding there in the first place.
You turned the shower on. Water hissed against the tiles before quickly filling the small bathroom with warmth. Steam slowly gathered on the mirror, blurring your reflection until it disappeared completely.
You stepped beneath the stream of hot water and closed your eyes. For the first time in days you felt your shoulders begin to relax. The water drowned out everything else. Every thought, every memory, every fear. It was loud enough that you didn't hear the faint creak of the front window opening somewhere beyond the bathroom.
You didn't hear the slow, measured footsteps crossing the wooden floor. You didn't hear the bedroom door quietly swing open. Or the soft click as it closed again.
The water finally stopped. For a few seconds, you simply stood there, letting the warmth linger on your skin before reaching for the towel hanging beside the shower. You wrapped it tightly around yourself and wiped the steam from the bathroom mirror with the palm of your hand. You looked exhausted. Dark circles shadowed your eyes, and your hair clung damply to your shoulders. With a quiet sigh, you unlocked the bathroom door and stepped into the hallway.
The cabin was silent. Almost unnaturally so. Absentmindedly you walk back toward the bedroom. Then you stopped.
A single red rose lay in the middle of the bed.
Your breath caught. The flower hadn't been there before. You were sure of it. Every muscle in your body went rigid.
"No..."
You whispered the word so quietly you barely heard it yourself. Your pulse began hammering against your ribs as your eyes swept frantically across the room.
The wardrobe, the window, the closet, under the bed. Nothing. No one. The room was empty.
Then another thought struck you. Your phone. You spun toward the nightstand. Empty. The phone you had left there only twenty minutes ago was gone. A cold wave of panic washed over you. Someone had been inside. Someone had walked through the bedroom while you were in the shower. Your stomach twisted violently. Dick.
Without thinking, you backed toward the hallway before suddenly turning and running. The kitchen. There had to be knives in the kitchen. Your bare feet slapped against the wooden floor as you rounded the corner. You barely made it two steps inside before freezing.
Someone was already there.
Dick stood beside the kitchen counter as though he had lived there his entire life. One hand rested casually in the pocket of his jeans. In the other, he lazily spun one of the kitchen knives between his fingers, catching it effortlessly by the handle every time.
Click. Spin. Catch. Click. Spin. Catch.
He looked up. The moment his blue eyes met yours, a slow, familiar smile spread across his face. "Hey, sweetheart." His voice was warm, almost affectionate. As though the last three weeks had been nothing more than an inconvenience. "I've missed you." He glanced down at the knife in his hand before setting it gently on the counter.Â
"I was wondering how long you'd stay in the shower." A quiet chuckle escaped him. "I was starting to think I'd have to come and check on you."
His eyes drifted over the towel wrapped around you before returning to your face. "You still leave your phone lying around." He lifted your phone with his free hand, giving it a small, teasing shake. "You've really got to stop making it so easy for people to steal your things." He slipped it into his back pocket.
Your heart lurched into your throat and instinct took over. You stumbled backward, your hands instinctively clutching the towel tighter against your body.
"No..." Your voice barely came out above a whisper.
Dick's smile faltered. Just slightly. He immediately recognized that look in your eyes.
"Hey..." he said softly, taking a careful step toward you.
You took one back.
"Y/N..."
Another step. Your breathing became shallow. Your back hit the wall.
"There you go..." he murmured, holding one hand out as though approaching a frightened animal. "Easy."
You shook your head violently. "No."
"I've had time to think... and I've decided I'm not going to hurt you," For the first time since he'd arrived, genuine worry crossed Dick's face. "Y/N, don't."
You turned and ran.
"Y/N!"
You sprinted toward the front door, your bare feet slipping against the polished wooden floor. Behind you, a chair scraped violently across the kitchen.
"Y/N, no!"
Your trembling fingers fumbled with the lock.
"Come on..." Behind you, Dick was getting closer. "Please," he called, his voice no longer teasing but urgent. "Don't do this."
The lock clicked. You yanked the door open and threw yourself outside. The cold evening air hits your damp skin like ice. You didn't stop. You bolted straight into the forest. Branches whipped against your arms and legs as you ran blindly between towering pines, the towel threatening to come loose with every desperate stride. Your lungs burned. Your heartbeat thundered in your ears. You didn't dare look back.
"Y/N!" His voice echoed somewhere behind you. Closer than you wanted. "Stop running!"
You ignored him. The sun had almost disappeared behind the trees, leaving the forest drenched in deep blue shadows. Everything looked the same. Every path, every tree, every direction. You had no idea where you were going. You risked a glance over your shoulder. He was still there. Tall. Broad-shouldered. Closing the distance with terrifying ease. His blue eyes never left you, locked onto you with unwavering focus. Your heart lurched.
You pushed yourself harder, your bare feet slipping over damp moss and exposed roots. The towel wrapped around your body had begun to loosen with every frantic stride. It slipped lower. Instinctively, you grabbed at it with one hand, clutching the fabric against yourself.
It cost you just a second. That was all he needed.
Strong arms wrapped around your waist from behind. A startled cry escaped your lips as the impact knocked the air from your lungs. The force sent both of you crashing to the forest floor, rolling across damp moss and fallen leaves. Somewhere during the fall, the towel slipped free, disappearing into the undergrowth.
Everything went still. You lay pinned beneath him, struggling to catch your breath, your chest rising and falling in quick, uneven breaths. Damp strands of hair clung to your flushed face as your pulse thundered in your ears. Above you, Dick remained completely motionless for a moment, breathing almost as hard as you were after the chase.
He caught your wrists before you could shove him away, holding them above your head with practiced ease. Every frantic breath escaped your lips in short, uneven gasps as you struggled beneath him, but he barely moved.
"Y/N..." Your name left his lips almost like a plea.
You glared up at him, your chest rising and falling rapidly. "Get off me."
For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The forest fell strangely quiet around you. The only sounds were your ragged breathing and the distant rustle of leaves stirred by the evening wind. Dick searched your face as though trying to memorize every detail.
"I looked for you every day," he said quietly.
Your expression faltered for the briefest second. "Don't."
"I couldn't stop thinking about you."
Tears stung your eyes, though you weren't sure whether they came from fear, anger, or heartbreak. "You don't get to say that."
His jaw tightened. "I had a lot of time to think about you every day."
His gaze lingered on yours, and for a heartbeat neither of you moved. The distance between you suddenly felt impossibly small, heavy with everything that had happenedâand everything neither of you knew how to put into words.
Dick's eyes darkened. He leaned in fast. His mouth crashed onto yours in a hungry kiss, tongue pushing past your lips to claim you deep. You moaned into it as his hands gripped your waist, pulling your naked body flush against him. The kiss turned rough, teeth nipping at your bottom lip before he broke away.
His mouth descended to your chest, raining hot, open-mouthed kisses across your skin. He latched onto one nipple, sucking hard while his tongue flicked over the stiff peak. His teeth grazed it, then he moved to the other breast, sucking and biting with the same desperate hunger. Saliva glistened on your chest as he worked his way across every inch, licking and kissing like he couldn't get enough.Â
His cock pressed hard against your thigh, throbbing. He kept you pinned there, mouth devouring your tits while one hand slid down to squeeze your ass. You felt his fingers dig in, spreading you slightly as he ground his hips forward. The wet heat of his tongue circled your nipple again before he sucked it back between his lips, pulling with enough force to make your back arch.
"Dick," you moaned as your thoughts merged into one. Dick. That was all that was on your mind. All thoughts of murder and fear vanished. All that mattered was his hands and mouth on your body, and his cock digging into your thigh.
Dick kept you pinned to theground. One hand stayed at your wrist while the other dropped to his pants. He yanked the zipper down in one rough motion and pulled his hard cock free. It sprang out thick and heavy, the head already slick. He pressed it against your bare thigh, letting you feel the heat and weight of it.
His mouth returned to yours immediately. The kiss turned even hungrier, his tongue driving deep as he claimed your lips. At the same time he let go of your hands and with his now free hand slid between your legs. His fingers found your pussy and rubbed over your folds, spreading the wetness he found there. Two fingers pushed inside without warning, curling to stroke your inner walls while his thumb circled your clit. Your hands flew up and grabbed his back. Your nails dug in hard, raking down his skin and leaving red marks. Dick groaned straight into your mouth, the sound vibrating against your tongue. The noise only made him thrust his fingers deeper, fucking you with them while his cock throbbed untouched against your leg.
He kept kissing you through it, biting your lower lip between groans, never letting the contact break as his fingers worked your pussy. "I'm coming," you moaned into his mouth. Hearing this, his fingers went even deeper and started moving even faster. Your back arched as a wave of orgasm washed over your entire body. You pulled away from Dick's lips and, breathing heavily, looked at his flushed face.
"You are so beautiful, sweetheart," Dick mumbled, looking at his fingers, covered in your juices, which he pulled out of you and brought to his mouth. You watched, breathing heavily, as he put his fingers in his mouth and licked up your cum. "You taste delicious."
Dick grabbed his thick cock and dragged the swollen head along your slick entrance, coating himself in your wetness. He pushed inside in one hard thrust, burying himself to the hilt. You both moaned loudly as he started pounding into you with quick, deep strokes. Your arms wrapped around his back while his hips slammed forward again and again, driving his cock into your pulsing pussy. He held you tight against himself, groaning into your neck with every thrust as your bodies rocked together.
Dick kept thrusting deep into you, his cock stretching your walls with every powerful stroke. "I love you," he moaned against your lips, voice rough and breathless. "I love you so fucking much."
Your body reacted instantly. A loud moan escaped you as you wrapped your legs tighter around his waist, locking him in place and pulling him even deeper. Your arms slid up to tangle in his hair, gripping the strands as your hips rocked to meet every thrust. "Dick," you gasped, voice breaking with pleasure. "I love you too." The words came out in a cry, tears welling in your eyes from the overwhelming sensation of his cock pounding into you. Your pussy clenched around him, slick and hot, as he drove harder, his hips slamming against yours on the forest floor.
He groaned loudly, burying his face in your neck while his thick shaft plunged in and out of you at a relentless pace. Your bodies moved together in raw rhythm, skin slapping against skin, your legs squeezing him tighter with every thrust.
Your body tensed suddenly as another orgasm crashed over you without warning. "Dick," you whispered, voice breaking as your pussy clenched hard around his thick cock. The tight squeeze pulled him over the edge with you.
Dick groaned loudly, hips jerking as he buried himself deep and pumped his hot cum inside you. His cock pulsed with every spurt, filling you until it overflowed. When he finally pulled out, he sat back on his heels and watched with dark satisfaction as thick white streams of his cum leaked from you. He reached down, dragging two fingers through the mess and pushing some of it back inside you with a low growl of approval.
After that you sat up and looked into his eyes. For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The forest had grown almost completely dark. Only the last traces of twilight filtered through the trees, painting the moss beneath you in muted shades of blue.
Dick was the first to move.
Without a word, he reached for his black T-shirt pulling it off. He hesitated for only a second before pulling it over your head. The fabric still carried his scent. It was far too big, falling to the middle of your thighs.
You didn't protest. You couldn't. You simply lowered your eyes as he gently tugged the hem into place, making sure you were covered.
Only then he stepped back. In silence, he picked up his jeans and fastened them, his movements slow and unhurried, as if there were nowhere else he needed to be. You watched him without really seeing him. Your mind felt strangely empty. Everything that had happened over the past few weeks seemed impossibly distant now, like fragments of someone else's nightmare.
When he finally looked back at you, his expression had softened. There was no smug grin, no mockery, only quiet concern. For several long seconds, the two of you simply stood there, staring at one another.
The wind stirred the branches overhead. Somewhere in the distance, an owl called into the gathering night. Dick let out a slow breath. Stopping in front of you, he extended his hand.
"Come on," he said quietly. His voice was almost impossibly gentle. "Let's go home."
You stared at his outstretched hand. Every instinct told you to run, but your body refused to listen. After a long, trembling pause⊠You slowly slipped your hand into his. Dick's fingers closed around yours with surprising care. A faint smile appeared on his lips.
"I've got you," he murmured.
Without another word, he turned toward the narrow forest path. Still holding your hand, he began leading you back through the trees. And this time⊠You followed.
Could we get a part two for dickâs scream au? âThe boy behind the maskâ
Just published!
I wasn't planning on writing any more parts, but thanks to this request, I ended up coming up with ideas for not only Part 2 but also Part 3. So stay tuned!
summary: You were supposed to be Dick Graysonâs perfect alibi. Instead, somewhere between late-night kisses and whispered âI love youâs, Gothamâs Ghostface killer fell in love with his final girl. Unfortunately for you, discovering his secret only makes him want to keep you even closer.
tags: NSFW 18+, Oral, Dirty Talk, Chase Kink, Sexual Content, Scream AU, Ghostface Dick Grayson, Dark AU, Toxic Relationship, Possessive Dick, Manipulation, Violence, Power Imbalance
Part 1 Part 3
âDamn, I think thatâs the fastest Iâve ever managed to make you cum. Our little chase must have really turned you on, baby. Makes me wonder how fast I can make you cum with my dick⊠maybe weâll even beat our last record. Weâre going to have some fun tonightâŠâÂ
He studied you for another moment, then raised an eyebrow. âCan I let you get up?â he asked, his voice calm despite the warning underneath it. âYou're not going to run again, are you?â
You hesitated just long enough to make it believable before giving him a small nod. âNo,â you replied quietly. âI won't.â
Suspicion flickered across Dick's face. He searched your expression for any sign of deception, but all he found was exhaustion and what looked like reluctant acceptance. After a brief pause, he slowly climbed to his feet, never taking his eyes off you.
You could feel his gaze following your every movement as you pushed yourself up from the floor. Instead of standing immediately, you slowly lowered yourself onto your knees in front of him, your eyes fixed on the floor as though you had finally accepted your situation.
Dick stared down at you in silence. A small part of him remained cautious, waiting for another desperate attempt to escape. But the moment your eyes finally lifted to meet hisâwide, hesitant, almost innocentâsomething inside him tightened.
âLook at you,â he murmured, his voice dropping into something dangerously soft. âAlready on your knees where you belong.â
A satisfied smirk spread across his face as he stepped closer. He reached down, gently cupping your chin between his fingers, guiding your face upward until your eyes met his once more. His thumb brushed slowly across your bottom lip, his touch almost unbearably gentle compared to everything that had happened only minutes earlier.
You hated how familiar it felt. Hated that, despite everything, your body still remembered the countless times he had touched you with the same tenderness.
Without breaking eye contact, Dick's free hand drifted to the waistband of his trousers. His movements were slow and deliberate, as if he wanted to give you every opportunity to watch. One button. Then another.
Your breath caught. You instinctively wet your lips before you could stop yourself.
God, get it together, you scolded yourself silently. Fear, adrenaline, muscle memoryâyou didn't even know anymore. All you knew was that this was exactly what he wanted: for you to look at him, to hesitate, to forget, even for a second, that he was the man who had murdered your best friend.
Without breaking eye contact, he shoves boxers down his thighs in one smooth motion, freeing his cock. It sprang out, thick and heavy, the flushed head already glistening with a bead of precum. He wrapped a hand around the base and gave one slow stroke. Dick moved closer, one hand tangling gently in your hair as he guided the head of his cock to your mouth, tapping it against your lower lip once, then twice.
âOpen up for me, pretty girl. Let it see how deep you can take me.â Your pussy clenched at the words. You looked up at him through your lashes, then parted your lips before taking him in.
The first slide of his cock over your tongue drew a deep, guttural groan from his chest. He was thickâstretching your mouth in that perfect, slightly overwhelming way. You hollowed your cheeks and sucked, tongue swirling around the head before you sank lower, taking as much of him as you could. All thoughts of escape disappeared from your head.
âFuck,â Dick hissed, fingers tightening in your hair.
You turned your head slightly, eyes flicking toward his eyes. He kept one hand in your hair as he started to rock his hips, fucking your mouth in slow thrusts.
âGods, you look so perfect like this,â he rasped, voice strained with pleasure. âMy perfect little doll.â
You hummed, the sound muffled and obscene. Drool had started to slip from the corners of your lips, dripping down your chin but you didnât care. You bobbed your head faster, one hand coming up to stroke what you couldnât fit, twisting gently on every upstroke the way you knew he liked.
Dickâs head tipped back for a moment, a low, broken moan escaping him. His stomach flexed visibly under the hem of his shirt, and his cock throbbed against your tongue. âShitâslow down or Iâm gonna come too fast,â he warned, but he didnât pull away. âSo fucking good with that pretty mouth⊠thatâs my girl,â he groaned.
He pulled out suddenly, strings of saliva connecting your lips to the glistening head of his cock. You gasped for air, lips swollen and shiny, and he immediately tapped his cock against your tongue. Suddenly, cum shot out of his cock right into your open mouth. You closed your lips around the tip and licked it a few times, making sure you licked up every drop of cum.
Dick let out a slow, satisfied breath as he looked down at you. You looked beautiful beneath himâyour hair hopelessly tousled, your cheeks flushed a deep pink, your lips swollen. A lazy smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. His hand rose to your face almost instinctively. Warm fingers brushed your cheek before his thumb slowly traced over your bottom lip with surprising tenderness.
Now, you thought. Before he could react, you sank your teeth into his thumb as hard as you could.
"Fuck!" Dick hissed, immediately jerking his hand away. His eyes widened in surprise before narrowing in pain as a thin line of blood welled around the bite mark. "Jesus Christ..."
You scrambled to your feet without a second thought. Your eyes darted frantically around the room until they landed on the bathroom just a few steps away. You ran.
Throwing yourself through the doorway, you slammed the door shut behind you. Your trembling fingers barely managed to turn the lock before you stumbled backward, your chest rising and falling with frantic breaths.
For one brief, precious second⊠Silence.
Then something crashed violently against the other side of the door. You flinched so hard your back hit the sink. Another deafening bang rattled the thin wooden frame.
"Open the fucking door!" Dick roared, all traces of his playful tone gone. Rage bled through every word as he pounded against the wood hard enough to make the hinges groan. "Honey, don't do this," Dick called through the door, forcing his voice back into something gentle. "Open the door. I'm not mad, I promise. Just let me in, and we'll talk."
You knew he was lying. You had known him long enough to recognize the subtle edge beneath his calm voice. He wasn't just angry. He was furious.
Your eyes darted around the tiny bathroom, desperately searching for another way out. They landed on the small window overlooking the backyard. Your heart lurched. The police station. It was only fifteen minutes away on foot.
Fifteen minutes didn't sound impossible...Â
...unless Dick caught you first.
A violent crash against the bathroom door made you flinch. The frame groaned. He wouldn't need much longer. Without giving yourself time to think, you rushed to the window and shoved it open. Cool night air rushed into the room. You swung one leg over the windowsill, then the other. For one brief moment, you glanced back at the bathroom door as another deafening bang echoed through the room.
He was almost inside. You jumped.
You landed awkwardly on the damp grass, pain shooting through your ankles, but adrenaline kept you moving. Without looking back, you sprinted across the yard and disappeared into the dark streets.
Dick let out a frustrated growl and slammed his shoulder into the bathroom door one final time. The lock gave way with a loud crack. He stumbled inside, immediately scanning the room.
Empty.
His gaze snapped toward the open window. "Shit."
He crossed the room in seconds and looked outside just in time to catch the faint silhouette of your figure disappearing around the corner of the neighboring house.Â
His jaw clenched. Chasing you now would only make things worse. If anyone saw him dragging you back, everything would fall apart. No. He'd let you run. Because he already knew what came next.
By the time you stumbled through the doors of the police station, your lungs burned with every breath. Every head in the room turned toward you. Your clothes were wrinkled, your hair a mess, and tears blurred your vision.
"Please..." you whispered between ragged breaths. "Please help me."
A young police officer hurried over immediately, gently placing a hand on your shoulder. "You're safe now," she said softly. "Come with me."
She led you into a small interview room, handed you a bottle of water, and asked you to wait while she informed her superior. The next ten minutes felt endless. Your leg bounced uncontrollably beneath the table as your mind replayed the last few hours over and over again. Then the door opened.
Commissioner Gordon stepped inside.
"Please," you blurted out before he even had a chance to sit down. "You have to believe me. It's Dick. Dick Grayson. He's Ghostface."
Gordon froze. For a long moment, he said nothing. His eyes carefully studied your faceâyour trembling hands, the tears clinging to your lashes, the bruises already beginning to bloom against your skin. You looked terrified. Not confused. Not hysterical. Terrified. He had seen enough victims over the years to recognize genuine fear when it was sitting right in front of him.
Dick Grayson...
Gordon had quietly suspected him for weeks. There had been too many coincidences, too many loose ends that somehow always led back to Bruce Wayne's adopted son. But suspicion wasn't evidence, and evidence was exactly what he lacked.
Arresting Dick Grayson wouldn't be easy. He wasn't just another suspect. He was Bruce Wayne's son. Gotham's golden boy. Without solid proof, no judge would sign off on keeping him behind bars for long. Gordon slowly pulled out the chair across from you and sat down, keeping his voice calm.
"Okay," he said quietly. "Take a deep breath." He slid a box of tissues across the table. "Start from the beginning." His expression hardened almost imperceptibly. "Tell me everything."
You talked for what felt like hours. Every detail. From finding the box beneath Dick's bed to the knife stained with dried blood. The mask. Stephanie. The chase through the house. Every word that had come out of his mouth. Maybe you just left out the parts where he put his fingers in your pussy and you sucked his cock.Â
The room remained silent otherwise, broken only by the scratching of a pen across paper. When you finally finished, your voice was barely above a whisper. "...and then I ran."
Silence settled between you. Gordon closed the file in front of him and leaned back in his chair. "I believe you." The words almost made you cry. "But believing you and proving it are two different things."
You lowered your gaze. "I know."
He stood, reaching for his jacket. "I'm going to the Grayson apartment myself."
Twenty minutes later, three police cruisers rolled to a stop outside Dick's house.
The porch lights were still on. The front door opened before anyone had the chance to knock. Dick Grayson stood there in a plain black T-shirt and gray sweatpants, his expression calmâalmost curious. His blue eyes swept over the officers before settling on Gordon.
"Commissioner."
"You know why we're here?" Dick tilted his head slightly.
"I have a feeling this is about my girlfriendâs lies."
Gordon's jaw tightened. "Dick Grayson, you're under arrest on suspicion of multiple counts of homicide."
For the briefest moment⊠Dick smiled. Not nervously. Not in disbelief. Just... amused. He slowly raised both hands. "I'll cooperate."
One officer stepped forward and secured his wrists behind his back. The metallic click of the handcuffs echoed through the quiet house. Dick didn't resist. He didn't argue. He didn't even ask for a lawyer. Instead, his gaze wandered past the officers toward the staircase leading upstairs.
Everything's gone. The costume. The knife. The phone. Every trace that mattered had disappeared.
The ride back to the station passed in complete silence. Dick sat in the back of the cruiser with his cuffed hands resting in his lap. He looked almost relaxed. As if this were nothing more than a minor inconvenience.
You were standing outside the interview room when you heard footsteps approaching. Then voices. Several officers rounded the corner. And between them...
Dick.
His wrists were bound in steel cuffs, yet he carried himself with the same effortless confidence he always had. When he saw you, he stopped walking. One of the officers nudged him forward. "Keep moving."
But Dick's eyes never left yours. There wasn't an ounce of panic in them. Only quiet certainty. A slow smile spread across his face. "There you are," he said softly.
You felt your stomach twist.
One of the officers shoved him again. "Move."
Dick obeyed without complaint. As he passed you, he leaned his head just enough for only you to hear. "You did the right thing." Your brow furrowed in confusion. His smile widened. "I would've gone looking for you eventually." A chill ran down your spine. Then his voice dropped even lower. "So enjoy the peace while it lasts." He glanced briefly at the handcuffs around his wrists before looking back at you. "They won't keep me here for long." Your blood ran cold. "I'll see you again soon."
The officers pulled him farther down the corridor. You watched him disappear around the corner. Only then did you realize your hands were shaking again. And somehow⊠His promise terrified you far more than his arrest had reassured you.
The Fraternity House was packed on Friday night. Music blasted through every room, loud enough to drown out almost every conversation. You had known from the moment you arrived that coming here was a mistake.
Not just because the police had spent the last month warning everyone to avoid large gatherings after dark while a masked killer terrorized Gotham. No, your biggest problem was currently standing across the living room. Damian Wayne.
Or rather, your ex-boyfriend.
You could feel his eyes on you from the second you stepped inside. Two weeks. That was all it had been since the breakup. Far too soon for this. Mentally, you cursed Kori for convincing you to come.
"You know," the guy beside you said, leaning closer so you could hear him over the music, "I know you and Damian were together for a long time, but honestly? He didn't deserve you. And the fact that he started bringing Rachel around right after you broke up? That's just pathetic."
Your attention snapped away from Damian.
"I'm sorry, what?" you asked. "Rachel? Raven?"
"Yeah. Raven. Whatever her name is."
The knot in your stomach tightened. For the past two weeks, every time you saw Damian on campus, she was there. Walking beside him. Sitting next to him in class. You'd tried to convince yourself it didn't matter.Â
Across the room, Damian's gaze never left you. And somehow, that felt worse than if he had looked away.
Your mind immediately flooded with images of Damian and Raven together. In his bedroom. In his car. Every time they disappeared somewhere after class. The thought made you sick.
Especially because during your last argument, Damian had sworn there was nothing going on between them. He'd accused you of imagining things, of seeing something that wasn't there. What an asshole.
"I just think thatâ"
"Want to dance?" you interrupted, looking at him expectantly.
He blinked in surprise before a grin spread across his face. "Fuck, of course."
You grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the center of the room. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you drew him closer and started moving to the music. For a brief moment, your eyes drifted across the crowd. Straight to Damian. His jaw was clenched so tightly it was a miracle he hadn't cracked a tooth.
Good. Now it's your turn to suffer.
Suddenly, you felt a pair of lips press against yours. You froze. Your heart nearly jumped into your throat as you jerked your head back and stared at the guy in front of you.
He only smiled. "It's okay," he said softly, tightening his grip on your hips. "Relax."
Then he leaned in again. Still stunned, you let him kiss you. But something felt wrong. You couldn't do this. Not yet. Not when every time you closed your eyes, all you could think about was Damian. Fuck this.
"I think I'm gonna head home," you said awkwardly, pulling away.
The guy looked disappointed. "Already?"
"Yeah."
You offered him an apologetic smile. "Thanks for the dance."
Before he could say anything else, you turned and pushed your way through the crowd. At that moment, you didn't care about the warnings. You didn't care about the masked psychopath stalking Gotham's streets. You just wanted to get home.
The shrill ringing of your phone dragged you out of sleep. Groaning, you rubbed at your eyes and blindly reached for the device on your nightstand.
"Hello?"
"Reader, you won't believe what happened!" Kori practically shouted through the speaker. "That guy you were making out with last night? He's fucking dead."
Any trace of sleep instantly vanished. "What?"
"They found him this morning. Ghostface got him."
Your stomach dropped. "What happened?"
"Dick was part of the team that secured the crime scene. He said it was brutal."
"Fuck."
Before Kori could continue, the doorbell to your student apartment rang.
"I have to go," you said quickly. "I'll call you later."
You ended the call and pushed yourself out of bed. The digital clock on your nightstand read 10:45. Who the hell was visiting this early? You crossed the apartment and opened the door.
Damian stood on the other side. Your stomach immediately twisted.
"Hey," he said.
"Damian."
"I just wanted to check on you."
You stared at him. "Why?"
His expression didn't change. "I heard about Matt."
Matt. Right. That had been the guy's name.
"I saw you two together last night."
The fucking nerve.
"You mean before he ended up dead?" you asked. For a brief moment, neither of you spoke.
Then Damian sighed. "I wasn't implying anything."
"Really? Because it sounds like you're implying something."
His green eyes remained fixed on yours. "No."
Something about the way he said it made a chill crawl down your spine. "I just wanted to make sure you're okay."
"I don't need your concern," you snapped. "Go worry about Raven."
At the mention of her name, Damian rolled his eyes. "Reader... are we really still doing this?"
A sharp laugh escaped you.
"Still doing this? Fuck you, Damian." You grabbed the door and tried to slam it shut. At the last second, he caught it with his hand. The door bounced back open.
For a moment, neither of you moved. Then something shifted in Damian's expression. Not anger. Frustration. The kind that had been building for weeks.
"You know what?" he said quietly. "I tried to be patient. I gave you space. I gave you time to calm down." His jaw tightened. "But I'm tired of this."
Before you could react, he stepped past you and into your apartment.
"What the hell are you doing?" you demanded. "Get out!"
"When are you finally going to listen to me?" he shot back. You stared at him. "There is nothing between me and Raven."
"Right."
"There never was."
"Right."
"The only person I've ever wanted is you."
You crossed your arms.
"Then explain the calls. The messages. The secret meetings. All those times you claimed you were with your brothers when you were obviously somewhere else."
Damian looked away for a fraction of a second. A mistake. Because you noticed.
"There it is," you said bitterly. "You can't even deny it."
"You don't understand."
"Then explain it."
His hands curled into fists. "I can't."
You laughed. "Convenient."
"No." His voice came out sharper than intended. "You really don't understand."
Silence stretched between you. Then Damian took a step closer.
"I love you." You froze. His eyes never left yours. "I love you more than anyone or anything else in this world."
Your breath caught. Damian never talked about feelings. In nearly a year together, you could count on both hands how many times he'd actually said those words out loud. He had always shown his love instead. In the coffee he brought you before morning classes. In the way he waited outside every lecture just to walk you home. In the nights he stayed awake beside your bed when you were sick. In the hours he spent listening to every problem, every insecurity, every ridiculous story you wanted to tell. Even when he read those fantasy novels you loved so much despite insisting they were objectively terrible.
You had never needed the words. You'd felt his love in everything he did.
And now, standing in front of him, you saw it again. Raw. Unfiltered. Almost frightening in its intensity. For a moment, you couldn't look away.
"That's why I'm asking you to trust me. I'll tell you everything. Soon..." he said, taking another step toward you.
When he stopped, barely a breath away, you could see every shade of green in his eyes. You cursed yourself. You missed him. You missed the way he looked at you like you were the only person in the room. The way his hand always found yours. The way he made you feel safe, even when he was driving you insane.
Before you could overthink it, you cupped his face and kissed him.
For a second, Damian froze. Then he kissed you back. One of his hands slid to your waist, pulling you closer. The familiar feeling made your chest ache. God, you'd missed this. The argument, the anger, the jealousyânone of it seemed to matter when his lips were on yours. You felt Damian exhale against your mouth as his fingers tightened slightly at your side.
"Reader..." he murmured.
His forehead rested against yours for the briefest moment before you kissed him again.
This time, there was nothing hesitant about it. Weeks of frustration and longing seemed to crash into that single moment. When Damian's hand came up to brush against your cheek, you leaned into the touch without thinking. Neither of you spoke. Neither of you wanted to.
For the first time since the breakup, everything felt almost normal.
Then a phone started ringing.
Damian immediately tensed. You felt it. The change was instant.
You pulled away from him as he reached into his back pocket and took out his phone. Your eyes landed on the screen.
Raven.
You froze. Then anger surged through you. "Are you fucking kidding me?"
Before Damian could react, you snatched the phone from his hand.
"Readerâ"
You stepped back when he reached for it.
You already knew exactly what you were going to say. That she needed to leave him alone. That she had ruined your relationship. That she should find her own boyfriend instead of stealing yours.
Your thumb hit the answer button.
"Damian, you need to get a fucking grip." You froze. Raven sounded furious. "What the hell was that stunt with Matt?" she continued. "I get that you were pissed because he kissed your girlfriend, but that's not how this works." Your blood ran cold. "We agreed that both of us had to approve a target before making a move. Remember?" Silence. "We can't keep cleaning up your impulsive decisions." Your grip tightened around the phone. "What if the police start connecting things? What if somebody saw something? Are you trying to get us caught?"
You couldn't breathe. Your eyes slowly lifted to Damian. He had gone completely still. No excuses. No denial. Nothing. Just resignation. As if he already knew there was no coming back from this.
"Raven..." he said quietly.
The sound of his voice seemed to snap you out of your trance. With trembling fingers, you lowered the phone from your ear and ended the call.
The apartment suddenly felt too small. Too quiet. Too dangerous.
You stared at Damian as your mind desperately tried to make sense of what you'd just heard.
"No," you whispered.
Damian closed his eyes.
"Readerâ"
"No." Your voice cracked.
"Tell me I misunderstood."Â
He looked at you for a long moment. Then he slowly exhaled. And that was answer enough.
"Don't panic," he said carefully, taking a small step toward you. "I can explain everything."
summary: Dick Grayson is innocent. Unfortunately for him, Dream Dick Grayson is not.
tags: Established Relationship, crack x fluff, pillow fight, dream Dick Grayson is a menace
masterlist
You let out a tired sigh as you turned the key in the lock of your apartment door.
The past few weeks had been absolute hell. Your boss kept piling extra work onto your desk, forcing you to stay late despite your constant complaints. By the time you got home every evening, you were usually too exhausted to do anything except shower and collapse into bed.
Today, however, was different. For the first time in over two months, you had managed to leave work early.
Closing the door behind you, you slipped off your heels and groaned in relief. "Thank God." Your feet were killing you.
You picked up your bag and started walking toward the bedroom, already imagining yourself curled up beside Dick on the couch with takeout and some terrible reality show playing in the background.
Then you heard it. A muffled moan. You froze. For a moment, you wondered if you had imagined it. But then another one echoed through the apartment. Louder this time. Your stomach dropped.
A hundred explanations raced through your mind, each one more ridiculous than the last. Maybe he was watching something. Maybe he was on the phone. Maybeâ
"Yeah, Dick... harder."
The world seemed to stop. You recognized that voice instantly. Barbara. Your best friend.
The blood drained from your face. For a second, you couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. Then anger crashed into you like a tidal wave. Without hesitation, you stormed toward the bedroom door and threw it open.
Your eyes immediately landed on Barbara.
She was sitting on Dick, moving up and down on his dick while he gripped her ass cheeks. His eyes were shut, completely lost in the moment. Neither of them noticed you standing in the doorway. They were far too busy with each other.
A rush of anger shot through your body. Those two assholes. Oh, no. You weren't letting them get away with this. Your hands trembled as you pulled out your phone and hit the record button. If they wanted to ruin your life, then maybe it was time for theirs to fall apart too. For a brief, petty moment, you imagined sending the video to everyone. Dick's family. His friends. The Titans. Maybe even the entire internet. Let them explain this one.
"Wow." Your voice cut through the room like a knife.
Both of them froze. Dick's eyes flew open, while Barbara turned around so fast she nearly toppled off him.
summary: When Bernard finally pieces everything together, he thinks heâs saving Tim from a monster. What he doesnât understand is that Tim has never needed saving and you were never the problem.
tags: NSFW 18+, Sexual Content, Oral Sex, Ghostface Tim Drake, Dark AU, Scream AU, Serial Killer AU, Female Reader, Toxic Relationship, Soulmates (Twisted Version), Violence, Murder
Part 1
"I leave you alone for a few hours and suddenly you're getting your ass kicked by Bernard." He laughed softly. A little too softly. A little too happily for the situation. "That's honestly embarrassing." His thumb brushed against your cheek. "Good thing I got here on time."
His eyes flicked toward Bernard's motionless body sprawled across the floor. The smile on his face widened. "Can you imagine how upset I'd be if somebody hurt my favorite person?" Then he looked back at you. "Actually..." he tilted his head, studying the bruise already darkening along your temple, "I think I'm already upset."
Before you could respond, his arms slipped beneath you. You let out a small sound of surprise as he effortlessly lifted you off the floor.
"Tim"
"Shh"
As if you weighed nothing at all, he carried you across the room and carefully lowered you onto the couch. The entire time, his attention never left you. Not Bernard. Not the mess in your apartment. Not the fact that there was currently an unconscious body lying a few feet away. Just you.
He crouched in front of the couch and gently cupped your face between his hands. His expression softened. "Everything okay, dove?"
The nickname would've been sweet if his shoes weren't still splattered with someone else's blood. "Yeah," you muttered. "My stomach just hurts." You pressed a hand against your side and winced. "I think he bruised my ribs."
The tenderness instantly vanished from Tim's face. "He what?"
"Tim-"
"He kicked you?" His voice dropped dangerously low. You immediately recognized that tone. It was the same one he used right before somebody ended up dead.
"I'm fine."
"You don't sound fine."
He carefully took your wrist and moved your hand away from your stomach. His touch was surprisingly gentle. Like you were something fragile. Something precious. His eyes scanned the area for a moment before his jaw tightened.
"That asshole."
Then, to your surprise, he lowered his head. The first kiss landed directly over the sore spot. Soft. Barely there. Another followed. Then another. Each one ridiculously gentle compared to the violence that seemed to follow the two of you everywhere.
"Tim..."
"I'm fixing it."
You snorted despite the pain. "That's not how bruises work."
"It is now." His lips brushed against your skin again. "Doctor Drake's orders."
A reluctant smile tugged at your lips. Tim immediately noticed. Of course he did. He always noticed. "There she is," he murmured, finally looking up. The tension in his shoulders eased slightly. "I was starting to worry."
For a brief moment, he looked genuinely shaken by what could have happened. Then his gaze drifted toward Bernard again. And the smile slowly returned. "Now," he said lightly, "what should we do about him?"
"He knows about me." Your gaze drifted toward Bernard's unconscious body. "He wanted to protect you." A bitter laugh escaped you. "He actually thought I was going to kill you."
For a second, there was silence. Then Tim burst out laughing. Not a nervous laugh. Not an awkward laugh. A genuine one. The kind that made his shoulders shake.
"Oh my God." He covered his mouth, trying and failing to compose himself. "That's what he thought?"
You rolled your eyes. "Apparently."
Tim looked at Bernard. Then back at you. Then at Bernard again. And laughed even harder. "That's adorable."
"Tim"
"No, seriously." He wiped an imaginary tear from his eye. "He thought I needed protection from you.â The amusement in his expression slowly softened. His gaze settled on your face. Warm. Affectionate. Completely insane. "You're the last person I'd ever need protection from."
Something in your chest tightened. You reached forward and cupped his face. The laughter immediately disappeared. Tim leaned into your touch without hesitation. You smiled. Then pressed a brief kiss against his lips. Sweet. Familiar. Comforting.Â
When you pulled away, neither of you spoke for a moment. Tim simply stared at you. Thinking. Calculating. You could practically see the gears turning behind his eyes. Finally, his gaze shifted toward Bernard. The softness vanished. Replaced by something colder. Sharper. Dangerous.
"We have to get rid of him." His voice was calm. Matter-of-fact. As if he were discussing taking out the trash.
"Tim-"
"I'm serious." He reached for your hand and intertwined your fingers. "I won't leave even the slightest chance that he could become a threat to you."
The possessiveness in his voice should have been alarming. Instead, it felt strangely reassuring. Tim squeezed your hand. "Nobody gets to hurt you." His eyes flicked toward the unconscious boy on the floor. "Nobody."
You followed his gaze. Bernard still hadn't moved.
"Okay," you said after a moment. "So what do we do with him?"Â
A slow smile spread across Tim's face. The kind of smile that never meant anything good. "Funny you should ask." He glanced toward the kitchen. Then back at you. "I already have an idea."
The fog slowly began to lift from Bernard's mind. Consciousness returned in painful fragments. First came the pounding headache. Then the cold. Then the realization that something felt very, very wrong.
Bernard groaned softly and forced his eyes open. Darkness greeted him. For a moment, everything was blurry. Black spots danced across his vision as he blinked repeatedly, trying to focus.
His head throbbed. The back of his skull felt like it had been split open. Slowly, memories came rushing back. Reader. The fight. Tim. The ceramic cat crashing into the back of his head.
Shit.
His pulse immediately spiked. Instinctively, he tried to sit up. Panic hit him almost instantly. His hands wouldn't move. Bernard jerked violently against the restraints, only to discover that his wrists had been tied tightly behind his back. His ankles were bound as well. Every movement only made the ropes dig deeper into his skin.
"Fuck..." The curse escaped as a whisper.
His breathing quickened. Heart hammering in his chest, he looked around. This definitely wasn't the apartment. He was sitting on cold dirt and gravel. Sparse patches of grass brushed against his legs whenever the wind blew. Darkness stretched endlessly in every direction. The only source of light came from a pair of car headlights several yards away. Their harsh beams cut through the night and illuminated the clearing in an eerie yellow glow. Beyond them, everything disappeared into shadow.
Then he heard it. Water. The steady sound of waves crashing against the shoreline. Bernard froze. Slowly, he turned his head. The vast black surface of a lake reflected faint moonlight in the distance. His stomach dropped. No.
No, no, no.
He knew this place. He'd been here before. A secluded lake nearly two hours outside Gotham.
No houses. No tourists. No late-night fishermen. Nobody. Just miles of forest and empty roads. The perfect place for someone to disappear.
A cold wave of terror washed over him. His gaze snapped back toward the headlights.
And for the first time, he noticed the two figures standing beside the car. Watching him. Waiting for him to wake up.
Dressed in black robes and wearing familiar Ghostface masks, they walked toward him without a word.
Bernard's pulse quickened. He already knew who they were. Still, seeing them standing there felt unreal. Like a nightmare he couldn't wake up from. They stopped a few feet away.Â
Slowly, you reached up and removed your mask. Cool night air brushed against your skin. The moment Bernard saw your face, whatever hope remained in his expression vanished.
You offered him a bright smile. "Hey, Bernard."
The casual greeting only made the situation feel more disturbing. Beside you, Tim removed his mask as well. Unlike you, he wasn't smiling. He simply stared at Bernard for a long moment before letting out a heavy sigh. Disappointment flashed across his face. As though Bernard had failed an important test.
"Bernard..." he said quietly. Then he shook his head. "Bernard, Bernard, Bernard..." He clicked his tongue. "Buddy." Tim stepped closer. Bernard instinctively tried to lean away. "You did something unforgivable." His voice remained calm. Almost gentle. Which somehow made it worse. "There was a point where we could've worked this out." Tim shrugged. "You passed that point."
Bernard stared at him in disbelief. "Timâ"
"No." The single word immediately silenced him. Tim's expression hardened. "You should've stayed out of it."
For a moment, nobody spoke. The wind rustled through the trees. Waves lapped quietly against the shore behind them. Then Tim turned away. "Stay right there."
"Not exactly like I have a choice," Bernard muttered.
Tim ignored him and walked back to the car. The trunk was already open. After a few moments of rummaging around, he pulled out two heavy weights with thick ropes attached to them.
Bernard felt his stomach drop. Tim carried them across the clearing and dropped them onto the ground beside him. The metal hit the dirt with a dull thud. Bernard's eyes immediately locked onto them.
Then onto Tim. Then onto you. Neither of you looked away. For the first time that night, genuine fear settled deep in his chest.
Tim stepped closer and gently brushed his hand against your cheek. Instinctively, you leaned into the touch. A small smile tugged at your lips. Even after everything that had happened that night, his touch still grounded you.
Your gaze drifted toward Bernard. The look on his face made something dark and satisfied stir inside your chest. Hurt. Betrayal. Heartbreak. Let him watch. Let him finally understand. Tim was yours. He had always been yours. And no matter how much Bernard wished otherwise, he had never stood a chance. His eyes glistened in the headlights, tears threatening to spill over.
That's when a cruel idea crossed your mind. Let him see. Let him hear.
You turned back to Tim. The moment your eyes met his, your breath caught. There was something almost frightening about the way he looked at you. Complete devotion. Complete certainty. As though you were the only thing in the world worth caring about. Slowly, you closed the distance between you.
Your lips met his. Tim responded immediately. One hand settled against your waist, pulling you closer as he deepened the kiss. The rest of the world seemed to disappear. The cold night air. The lake. The headlights. Bernard. None of it mattered. Not when Tim was looking at you like that. Not when he was holding you like you were something precious.
Your fingers slipped into his dark, messy hair, and you felt him smile against your lips. The sound sent warmth rushing through your chest. His hand traced a slow path along your back, lingering there as if reassuring himself that you were safe. That you were still here. Still his.
Eventually, the need for air forced you apart. Neither of you moved very far. Tim rested his forehead against yours for a brief moment before pressing a soft kiss against your jaw. Then another. And another. Every touch felt careful. Reverent. Full of an affection that bordered on obsession.
Behind you, Bernard made a small, broken sound. Neither of you looked at him.
You grabbed his hand and guided him toward the car. Tim followed without hesitation, like he didnât need to think twice about anything when it came to you. He gripped your thighs tightly and lifted you on top of the car hood.
His strong hands pulled your legs apart so he can settle himself in between your thighs. With a quick movement, he grabbed the hem of the robe and pushed it up to your hips, exposing your bare legs. Without waiting for anything, Tim dropped to his knees and began smoothing the skin on your thighs with his hands.Â
He left warm kisses moving up to your clothed core. Don't waste time, he moved your panties aside. He wet his lips and his tongue peaks out before his head dips between your legs.Â
You felt the push and pull of his tongue against your clit. He moans at the taste of you before his eyes close and he focuses. Almost immediately, he starts doing the motions he knows that you like. Every stroke of his tongue, your moaning, your whining, your squirming and writhing, your fingers in his hair, your toes curling, your thighs squeezing his head, the way you pulse around his fingers.Â
You moaned his name as you came embarrassingly quickly on his tongue. His tongue cleans you up nice and slow but with practiced methodical behavior. "Baby, you taste like heaven" he muttered.
He opened his eyes as he rose to his full height. One hand had already drifted to the waistband of his trousers beneath the robe when a sudden sound cut through the night.
Bernardâs sobs. Broken. Uncontrolled.
Tim paused. Slowly, his gaze lifted. His eyes met yours. Understanding flickered behind them almost immediately. A small, knowing smile curved his lips. He leaned in closer, brushing his mouth near your ear.
âYou cunning, cruel thing,â he murmured.
Warm breath lingered against your skin for a moment longer than necessary. You responded with a faint, almost playful smile. Then stepped away from the car and straightened your clothes as if nothing had happened. As if the night itself hadnât shifted under your feet.
Both of you turned back toward Bernard. He was still crying. Quietly now. Not fighting anymore. Just⊠breaking. The sight sat heavy between you.
Tim exhaled sharply, as if trying to push something down inside himself.
âLetâs get this over with,â he said flatly. His eyes didnât leave Bernard. âSo I can take you home and take care of you properly.â
He moved toward the weights without hesitation. The metal clinked softly as he lifted one of them.
Together, without speaking much, you prepared everything in tense silence. No need for discussion anymore. Everything had already been decided long before this moment.
The walk to the footbridge felt longer than it should have. The forest around you was completely still. Even the lake seemed to wait.
Bernard was dragged forward between you, the sound of movement scraping against the ground breaking the silence in uneven rhythm.
When you leaned down near him, your voice was almost gentle. âItâs nothing personal.â
Tim let out a short, humorless breath beside you. âIt is personal,â he corrected coldly. The contrast between you hung in the air for a second too long.
Bernard lifted his head slightly. One last look. Pleading. Shattered.
Then everything moved quickly and you two pushed his body into the water. The water swallowed the moment whole. Ripples spread across the dark surface, widening until there was nothing left to see but black water and silence.
Neither of you spoke for a while. Finally, Tim broke it first. He turned his head toward you, as if nothing had just happened.
summary: In Dick's defense, proposing is terrifying.
tags: Established Relationship, Idiots in Love, Panic, Second-Hand Embarrassment, Comedy, Vomiting, Dick Grayson Is Not Having A Good Time
a/n: I saw this in a TikTok post about funny engagement stories and immediately thought of Dick
You had your date at the Grand Canyon planned for several weeks. The two of you had been busy and stressed with work lately, so you were looking forward to spending a quiet weekend together even more than usual.
The only problem was that Dick had been acting incredibly nervous all morning.
When your alarm went off at seven, he was already gone. According to him, he hadn't been able to sleep all night. At four in the morning, he had apparently decided to do something productive and cleaned half the house instead (carefully enough not to wake you). Things only got stranger after that. At breakfast, he burned his scrambled eggs so badly that the smoke alarm almost went on. A few minutes later, he reached for the sugar and somehow managed to pour salt into his coffee instead. When you pointed it out, he stared at the mug for a solid five seconds before dumping the whole thing into the sink.
You had asked him more than once what was wrong. Each time, he'd smiled a little too quickly and blamed it on the weather.
"The weather?" you repeated as the two of you loaded your bags into the car.
"Yeah."
"Dick, it's sunny."
"Exactly."
You narrowed your eyes at him. He immediately looked away. That was suspicious.
Dick Grayson was many things, but subtle was not one of them.
For the first hour of the drive, he drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, checked his phone every few minutes, and nearly missed two exits because he seemed completely lost in thought.
At one point, you caught him glancing at you. Then at the road. Then at you again.
You figured you wouldn't get a real answer out of him, so you let it go. Turning your head, you looked up at the bright blue sky above you. Only a few fluffy clouds drifted lazily across it. A small smile tugged at your lips.
"Look at the sky," you said.
Dick's head snapped up so fast you thought he might actually break his neck. "Oh God, what's wrong with the sky?!" he asked, panic flashing across his face.
You blinked. For a moment, you were too stunned to respond. "Dick," you said slowly, trying not to laugh, "there's nothing wrong with the sky."
His shoulders immediately sagged with relief. "Oh."
A beat passed.
"Wait, why would you think something was wrong with the sky?"
Yeah, the whole drive had been weird.
When you finally arrived, the view was magnificent. The walking trail was surprisingly quiet, with only a handful of people scattered along the route.
Dick, however, wasn't paying much attention to the scenery. His hand was clammy in yours the entire time. You had never seen someone sweat this much without actually exercising.
After about thirty minutes of walking, you emerged onto a beautiful overlook. Almost immediately, you noticed a couple standing near the edge. You stopped in your tracks and grabbed Dick's arm, pulling the distracted man to a halt.
"Look," you whispered. "I think he's proposing." At that exact moment, the guy dropped to one knee. The woman immediately covered her mouth as he pulled a ring box from his pocket.
Good thing you were standing far enough away not to disturb them. Still, you couldn't help leaning closer to Dick and whispering,
"Who the hell proposes at the Grand Canyon? I hate it."
Silence.
You frowned. That wasn't the reaction you expected.
Out of the corner of your eye, you watched the color drain from Dick's face. Instantly. His expression shifted from nervous to absolutely horrified. A strange choking sound escaped his throat.
"Dick?"
His eyes were wide. Very wide.
"Dick?"
Without a word, he dropped your hand, spun around, and sprinted toward the nearest bush. A second later, the unmistakable sound of someone violently throwing up echoed across the overlook.
You stared.
The nearby squirrels probably stared too.
"...Holy shit."
Maybe the weather really was getting to him, you thought.
Completely unaware that a engagement ring was currently burning a hole in his pocket.
summary: Two strangers enter Love Is Blind hoping to find a connection that goes beyond appearances. Neither of them expects to fall this hard, this fast.
tags: Love Is Blind AU, Reality Show AU, Fluff, Romance, Falling in Love, Love at First Conversation, Love Triangle
Part 1
love is blind!Dick was more nervous than he'd ever admit. Throughout the experiment, he'd been calm, confident, and certain about his feelings. But as the reveal approached, doubts began creeping into his mind. For the first time in years, he found himself overthinking every detail of his appearance. Was his smile weird? Was his hair sitting right? What if you had imagined someone completely different? The thought lodged itself in his chest and refused to leave. He wasn't worried about whether he would find you attractive. He already knew he would. What terrified him was the possibility that you wouldn't feel the same. By the time he stepped in front of the reveal doors, his hands were shaking. Then the countdown started. And suddenly every thought disappeared. His mind went completely blank.
love is blind!You weren't doing much better. Standing in front of the doors, you could practically hear your heartbeat. A thousand different thoughts raced through your mind at once. What if the chemistry disappeared the moment you saw each other? The connection you'd built over the past few days felt so precious that the possibility of losing it was almost unbearable. Yet despite all your fears, there was one feeling stronger than the rest. Excitement. After all this time, you were finally going to meet the man you'd fallen in love with.
love is blind!When the doors finally opened, the world seemed to stop. For a moment, neither of you moved. Neither of you spoke. You simply stared. Because suddenly the voice that had become your favorite sound in the world had a face. And somehow, reality was even better than imagination. Dick looked at you as though he'd forgotten how to breathe. You felt your eyes immediately filling with tears. Every fear you'd carried with you vanished in an instant. The smile spreading across his face was enough to tell you everything you needed to know. He was just as overwhelmed as you were. Just as happy. Just as in love. Then Dick laughed - a breathless, disbelieving laugh - and crossed the distance between you.
love is blind!Dick couldn't believe what he was seeing. For a moment, he simply stared. Not because he was shocked. Because you were breathtaking. Every fear he'd carried with him to the reveal vanished the second he saw you. Somehow, reality had exceeded every expectation. You were beautiful. But what struck him most wasn't your appearance. It was the overwhelming feeling that you were still you. The woman he had fallen in love with through a wall. Now she was standing right in front of him. Smiling at him. Looking just as emotional as he felt. Dick's heart nearly burst. More than anything, he wanted to pull you into a kiss. But he held himself back. The last thing he wanted was to make you uncomfortable or overwhelm you during such an emotional moment. Instead, he stepped closer and gently cupped your face. "Hi." The simple greeting made both of you laugh through your tears. A moment later, he pressed a soft kiss to your cheek before wrapping you in a tight hug.
love is blind!Your reveal quickly became one of the most talked-about moments of the season. Even before the finale aired, members of the production team were already calling it one of their favorite reveals. There had been no dramatic twists, no awkward silences, no uncertainty. Just two people who were genuinely overwhelmed by finally meeting the person they had fallen in love with. Viewers couldn't stop talking about the way Dick looked at you when the doors opened. Or how both of you seemed to forget the cameras existed. Years later, fans of the show would still include your reveal on lists of the most romantic moments in the franchise.
love is blind!After the reveal, it was finally time for the couples' trip to Bali. For the first time since the experiment began, the two of you could actually spend entire days together instead of speaking through a wall. And honestly? It was even better than either of you expected. Waking up beside each other. Falling asleep during late-night conversations. Stealing kisses between meals and group activities. The two of you slipped into domesticity so naturally that some of the other couples found it almost annoying. Of course, Bali wasn't completely perfect. That was where your first real arguments happened. Small things at first. Dick teasing you too much after you were already irritated. You getting frustrated when he tried to joke his way through serious conversations instead of saying what he actually felt. Dick getting a little too protective during group outings. You insisting you could handle yourself just fine. Neither of you was used to suddenly sharing space, emotions, and attention twenty-four hours a day. But the surprising part wasn't the arguments themselves. It was how quickly you made up afterward. Neither of you liked staying angry for long. Dick especially folded almost immediately anytime he saw you upset. Once, after a stupid disagreement over absolutely nothing, he showed up at your hotel room door holding snacks and mumbling: "I think we both know I'm too obsessed with you to survive an actual fight." You burst out laughing before you could even pretend to stay mad. The other couples started noticing it too. No matter how tense things became, the two of you always found your way back to each other. Some contestants thought it was sweet. Others were openly jealous.
love is blind!After Bali, the couples were finally sent back home for the final stage of the experiment: three weeks of real life before the wedding. No luxury resort, no carefully planned dates, no constant separation inside the pods. Just the two of you trying to figure out what life together would actually look like. And strangely enough, that was when your relationship became even more real. Away from the cameras and production schedules, the two of you finally had moments that belonged only to you. Late-night conversations curled up together on the couch. Falling asleep tangled together after exhausting filming days. Quiet kisses shared in dark hallways when nobody else was around. Dick kissed you like he'd been waiting for it since the very first day in the pods. Slow at first. Careful. Like he was still afraid of pushing too far too quickly. But the more comfortable you became with each other, the harder it was to keep your hands to yourselves. What started as soft kisses quickly turned into nights spent wrapped around each other beneath the sheets, exploring every inch of the connection you'd built emotionally long before it became physical. Being with Dick felt intoxicating. Tender one moment. Passionate the next. He treated you like someone precious, even in your most intimate moments. And every time he looked at you afterward, completely breathless and smiling like he couldn't believe you were real, your heart somehow fell for him even harder. Dick, meanwhile, was hopeless. Completely, utterly obsessed with you. He could never seem to get enough of your touch, your voice, your kisses. Sometimes he'd just pull you into his lap late at night and grin at you like he still couldn't believe the experiment had somehow led him to you.
love is blind!The next step in the experiment was meeting each other's families. Surprisingly, your side went far more smoothly than expected. Your parents adored Dick almost immediately. Which honestly wasn't surprising. Dick was charming without even trying. By the end of dinner, your mother was already asking him overly emotional questions about grandchildren while your father laughed at every joke he made. More importantly, they could see how happy you were around him. That alone was enough for them to support the relationship completely. Meeting Dick's family, however? That was a completely different experience. Because on the drive there, Dick finally admitted something he'd been putting off telling you. "So... there's something I should probably mention before we go inside." The nervous look on his face immediately made your stomach drop. "My family is... kind of well-known." You were expecting maybe local celebrities, maybe old money. What you were not expecting was: "THE Waynes?" Dick laughed nervously as you stared at him in horror. "In my defense, I didn't really know how to bring that up casually." To say you were stressed after that would've been the understatement of the century. By the time you reached Wayne Manor, you were convinced you were about to embarrass yourself in front of one of the richest families in the country. Bruce Wayne himself opened the door. Which somehow made everything worse. He was polite, but noticeably guarded at first. Observant too. You could practically feel him analyzing every little thing about you whenever you spoke. It was terrifying. Thankfully, Selina quickly stepped in to save you. Unlike Bruce, she seemed completely relaxed from the beginning. She welcomed you warmly, kept conversations flowing naturally, and subtly tried to ease the tension every time she noticed you getting nervous. The brothers, meanwhile, were absolute nightmares. Jason was the first to start. "So, how long until you realize this idiot leaves cereal bowls everywhere?". Tim immediately joined in. "Did he tell you about the time he backflipped off the garage roof because he thought it'd impress a girl?". Damian looked genuinely offended by your existence for the first ten minutes before finally deciding: "You seem acceptable." Which apparently counted as high praise coming from him. The entire evening quickly turned into Dick's brothers exposing every embarrassing story from his childhood while Dick threatened them with revenge. And honestly? Watching him argue with his family, laugh too loudly, and unsuccessfully try to stop the teasing only made you love him more. Even Bruce seemed to notice that by the end of the night.
love is blind!The wedding day arrived far too quickly. Ever since the engagement, everyone had been asking the same question: Do you really think you'll say yes? Up until that morning, the answer had felt obvious. But standing in a bridal suite surrounded by cameras, producers, stylists, and microphones made everything suddenly feel terrifyingly real. In a few hours, you'd either walk away married⊠Or heartbroken in front of millions of viewers. Normally, weddings were stressful enough on their own. Adding at least three cameras pointed at you every second turned the entire experience into a nightmare. While your makeup artist worked on your hair, your thoughts spiraled completely out of control. What if you're making a mistake? What if this is too fast? What if Dick changes his mind at the altar? That last thought hit the hardest. Because despite everything the two of you had shared, a small part of you still couldn't fully believe someone like Dick Grayson had chosen you. Your chest felt tight, the room suddenly felt too warm, too small. You could barely breathe. At one point, your best friend had to grab your hands and force you to sit down because you looked dangerously close to fainting. The medical team was called in shortly afterward just to make sure you were okay. Producers whispered nervously nearby while someone handed you water. Everything around you felt blurry, loud, and overwhelming. But somehow⊠The moment the ceremony doors opened, everything changed. You stepped forward onto the aisle and immediately saw him standing there waiting for you. Dick. And suddenly the panic disappeared. The cameras faded into the background. The noise disappeared. Your thoughts finally went quiet for the first time all day. Because Dick was looking at you the same way he had during the reveal. Like you were the only person in the world worth seeing. His eyes were already shining with emotion. And when he smiled at you - soft, nervous, completely in love - you felt calm.
love is blind!Honestly, by the time the finale aired, almost nobody believed either of you would say no. If anything, the audience seemed more confident in your relationship than the two of you had been throughout the experiment. Viewers had watched you fall in love from the very beginning. They had seen every nervous confession, every vulnerable conversation, every stupid argument and soft reconciliation. To them, the two of you already felt inevitable. Still, the wedding episode had people terrified. Social media practically exploded during the ceremony. Thousands of viewers were convinced production was editing the episode to make it look like one of you might back out at the last second. Especially after showing your panic attack before walking down the aisle. But the moment the vows started, most people realized there was no way either of you were walking away. Dick's voice shook the entire time he spoke. Yours barely stayed steady either. Neither of you even tried to hide how emotional you were. And apparently that destroyed the audience emotionally. By the end of the episode, timelines were flooded with viewers admitting they had cried through the entire ceremony. Some people joked that your wedding vows should've come with emotional warning labels. Of course, both of you said yes. There had never really been another option.
love is blind!After the season finished airing, the reunion episode became one of the most anticipated in the show's history. Fans desperately wanted to know whether the two of you had actually survived real life after filming ended. When the reunion episode finally aired, the entire audience was waiting anxiously for the answer. And then the cameras cut to you. Sitting together on the reunion couch. Fingers intertwined. Smiling so hard it almost looked unreal. Dick's arm wrapped securely around your waist. And most importantly - your very obvious pregnant belly. The realization hit the audience instantly. You were still together. Happily together. In fact, you looked even more in love than you had during filming. Dick couldn't stop touching you the entire reunion episode. Constantly holding your hand. Brushing his thumb against your skin. Looking at you with that same hopelessly devoted expression viewers had fallen in love with during the pods.
summary: Two strangers enter Love Is Blind hoping to find a connection that goes beyond appearances. Neither of them expects to fall this hard, this fast.
tags: Love Is Blind AU, Reality Show AU, Fluff, Romance, Falling in Love, Love at First Conversation, Love Triangle
a/n: The first season of Love Is Blind Poland (my country <3) was recently released, and I enjoyed it so much that I just had to write something inspired by it.
Part 2
love is blind!Dick came on the show hoping to find someone who would love him for who he was. Not for his good looks, his charm, or the fortune attached to the Wayne name. For the first time in his life, he wanted to build a connection without expectations, assumptions, or people already knowing everything about him before he even had the chance to speak.
love is blind!Dick quickly became a production favorite. From the very first day, everyone working behind the scenes adored him. He was polite, easygoing, and somehow managed to make even the most stressful filming days feel a little lighter. The crew wasn't the only group falling for him. Nearly every participant left a conversation with Dick smiling. Not because he was intentionally flirting with everyone - he wasn't. There was simply something magnetic about him. His warmth, quick sense of humor, and ability to make people feel genuinely heard drew others in without him even trying. More than once, producers found themselves laughing while reviewing his pod dates. Some contestants even admitted that they looked forward to talking to him more than anyone else. The funny thing was that Dick barely noticed any of it.
While everyone else seemed captivated by him, his attention had already settled on one person: you.
love is blind!You joined the experiment for much the same reason. You were tired of relationships built on first impressions and physical attraction. More than anything, you wanted a genuine connection - someone who would fall in love with your heart before ever seeing your face.
love is blind!You weren't expecting much on the first day. Everyone seemed nervous, yourself included. Then you met Dick. Within minutes, he had you smiling. The conversation flowed so naturally that you completely lost track of time. Talking to him felt effortless, as if you'd known him for years instead of mere minutes. There was something about him that felt familiar in the best possible way. His laugh made you smile without meaning to. His kindness felt genuine. Every joke, every story, every small detail he shared left you wanting to know more. By the end of your first conversation, you found yourself hoping he'd choose to speak with you again.
love is blind!Dick was completely smitten with you. By the end of the first day, he could barely remember most of the women he'd spoken to. Their conversations had blurred together into a series of names and voices. Yours hadn't. He could replay every minute of your conversation in perfect detail. The way you laughed. The stories you shared. The easy flow of your discussion. He'd never experienced anything like it before. All he wanted was another chance to talk to you. It felt ridiculous after only one day, but he couldn't shake the feeling that something about you was different. Like you were the person he'd been searching for all along. Unfortunately, he wasn't the only one who seemed to think so.
love is blind!Dick quickly found himself in an awkward position when he realized Wally was interested in you too. Over the course of the experiment, Wally had become one of his closest friends. Their personalities clicked almost instantly, and Dick genuinely enjoyed spending time with him. Which made things complicated. Every time Wally talked about his date with you, Dick felt his stomach twist. Listening to his friend excitedly ramble about how much he liked you was a special kind of torture. He hated feeling jealous. In the end, he decided to keep his feelings to himself. Partly because he didn't want to risk their friendship. Mostly because he wasn't ready to hear that you might like Wally more. So he smiled, listened, and pretended his heart wasn't sinking every time your name came up.
love is blind!After the first day, you went to bed with butterflies in your stomach. They didn't last long. Back in the women's lounge, nearly every conversation somehow found its way back to Dick. Everyone liked him. Everyone. Some women couldn't stop talking about how funny he was. Others couldn't stop talking about how easy it was to open up to him. A few admitted they were already looking forward to their next date with him. With every compliment, your confidence shrank a little more. Looking around the room, surrounded by beautiful, intelligent, and charismatic women, you couldn't help but wonder what made you stand out. Surely he had better options. Surely someone like Dick wouldn't choose you. Lying awake that night, you tried to convince yourself not to get attached. That's when Wally crossed your mind. He was kind. Funny. Easy to talk to. And unlike Dick, you never found yourself questioning whether he was genuinely interested in you. Maybe you owed it to yourself to explore that connection too. So when production asked who you wanted to see on your next dates, you gave them two names. Dick. And Wally.
love is blind!Dick was relieved when he learned that you had chosen him for another date. That day, the two of you moved beyond lighthearted jokes and playful banter. You talked about the future. About your goals, your values, and the kind of life you hoped to build someday. The conversation eventually drifted toward family. To Dick's surprise, the two of you shared the same dream: a large, loving family filled with warmth, laughter, and unconditional support. As the conversation continued, he found himself smiling more and more. Every answer seemed to reveal another thing you had in common. Every story made him feel closer to you. It almost didn't seem real.
love is blind!You were beginning to realize that your biggest problem wasn't choosing between two amazing men. It was that they made you feel completely different things. With Dick, everything felt effortless. Every conversation left you smiling. Every date made you feel seen, understood, and excited for the next one. The connection between you was undeniable. Sometimes it even scares you. Because what if you were feeling all of this alone? What if Dick's feelings weren't nearly as strong as yours? Those fears only grew whenever you sat in the women's lounge listening to the others talk about him. Kori adored him. Barbara couldn't stop smiling whenever his name came up. Every compliment directed his way made your stomach tighten. You wanted him to choose you. Not one of them. You. Wally, on the other hand, felt safe. There was never any doubt about how much he enjoyed talking to you. He was kind, attentive, and honest about his feelings. Being with him didn't leave you questioning where you stood. And that certainty was tempting. It wasn't as though you were leading him on. You genuinely cared about him. The more time you spent together, the more you found yourself looking forward to your conversations. You could easily imagine yourself growing to love him. Maybe, under different circumstances, things would have been much simpler. But every time you compared your feelings, you reached the same frustrating conclusion. What you felt for Wally was real. What you felt for Dick was something else entirely. Something deeper. Something that kept you awake at night wondering whether he was thinking about you too.
love is blind!By the third day, Dick realized he couldn't afford to wait any longer. Every day he spent talking to you only made his feelings stronger. And if there was one thing this experiment had taught him, it was that genuine connections didn't come around often. The last thing he wanted was to lose his chance with you because he had been too afraid to be honest. So he made a difficult decision. Before your next date, Dick met with Kori and then Barbara and told them the truth. As gently as he could, he explained that his heart was already leading him in a different direction. Neither of them deserved to be kept as a backup option. They deserved someone who was fully invested in building a future with them.
love is blind!When he finally met you that day, Dick decided not to hold anything back. For once, there were no carefully chosen words. No attempts to play it cool. Just honesty. "I want to keep building this with you."
love is blind!After what Dick had told you, you knew you couldn't keep giving Wally false hope. It wouldn't be fair to him. Not when your heart has already made its choice. The realization sat heavily in your chest for most of the day. Wally had been nothing but kind to you from the very beginning. He was funny, thoughtful, and so easy to talk to that part of you hated what you were about to do. But he deserved honesty. So when the two of you met for your date that day, you took a deep breath and told him as gently as you could. "I've chosen someone else."
love is blind!Yeah, things were tense in the men's lounge that evening.
love is blind!Dick hadn't planned to propose on the fourth day. In fact, he had promised himself he would wait longer. At least until the sixth day. Maybe even until the end of the week. He wanted to be responsible about it. Rational. Thoughtful. Unfortunately, Dick Grayson had never been particularly good at ignoring his heart. That day's date had started like every other. The two of you talked for hours, moving effortlessly from one topic to another. You shared childhood memories, embarrassing stories, dreams for the future, and little secrets neither of you had told anyone else in the experiment. Somewhere in the middle of the conversation, Dick found himself smiling so hard his cheeks hurt. And suddenly, the realization hit him. He didn't want to spend another day wondering. He already knew. Before he could overthink it, he stood up. "Can you come closer to the wall?" You laughed softly but did as he asked. On the other side of the pod, Dick dropped to one knee. You couldn't see him. He couldn't see you. But somehow, that didn't matter. "I know this is crazy," he admitted, laughing nervously. "And I know it's only been a few days." He took a breath. "But I've never been more certain about anything in my life." And then he asked you to marry him.
love is blind!You became the second couple to get engaged that season. Viewers had watched your relationship develop almost from the very beginning and had fallen in love with it just as quickly as the two of you had fallen for each other. People couldn't stop talking about the chemistry between you. About the way Dick's voice softened whenever he spoke to you. About the way you always seemed to understand each other without needing long explanations. Overnight, the two of you became the audience's favorite couple. Neither of you knew any of that yet. At that moment, all that mattered was the answer you had given on the other side of the wall. And the fact that, in a few moments, you were finally going to see each other face to face.
summary: When Bernard discovers you're the Ghostface behind a series of murders, he makes one fatal mistake: believing Tim will be horrified. After all, how could he know that you and Tim have always worn matching masks?
tags: Ghostface Tim Drake, Ghostface Reader, Dark AU, Scream AU, Serial Killer AU, Female Reader, Toxic Relationship, Soulmates (Twisted Version), Violence
a/n: Honestly, I had to take down the Dick and Jason version because I couldn't stand the smut scenes, haha. Those were the first scenes like that I'd ever written, and I just couldn't stand them. I need to rewrite them asap
Part 2
You stepped out of the shower with a quiet sigh, steam still clinging to your skin as you dried your hair with a towel. Today had been absolute hell.
First came the exhausting day at university - professors assigning projects like they wanted to ruin your life on purpose, classmates asking stupid questions, endless noise drilling into your skull for hours. Then your shift at the coffee shop somehow managed to be even worse. Customers snapping their fingers at you, complaining about drinks, acting like the world would end if their latte had too much foam. And to top it all off, your latest victim had fought back harder than expected. Right before you buried the knife in her throat, she managed to land a kick straight into your stomach. Hard. The ache was already settling deep beneath your ribs, throbbing every time you moved. By tomorrow morning, there would definitely be a massive bruise.
What a fucking day.
But somehow, even that wasn't the worst part. The fight with Tim was.
You paused in the middle of pulling on your oversized sleep shirt, jaw tightening at the memory. It hadn't been one of your usual arguments. Not the playful bickering, not the sharp little comments you both secretly enjoyed throwing at each other.
No. This one had been ugly.
Loud voices. Hurt feelings. Accusations neither of you could take back. Serious enough to make you wonder - for the first time since you started dating - whether the two of you should even be together. Which felt ridiculous. Because until now, you'd genuinely believed you and Tim were made for each other. Two halves of the same rotten apple. Same interests. Same humor. Same twisted instincts. The same hunger lurking beneath carefully crafted smiles.
Most of your friends had looked genuinely disturbed the first time they met him. "There's no way," one of them had laughed nervously. "You literally found the male version of yourself." And maybe they were right. You and Tim fit together too perfectly. Too naturally. Like something inevitable. Tim certainly believed that. He used to hold your face in his hands and tell you that the two of you were forever. That nobody else could ever understand either of you the way you understood each other.
The terrifying thing was⊠he was probably right.
But loving Tim also meant dealing with the uglier parts of him. The possessiveness. The jealousy. The way his smile would sharpen whenever somebody got too close to you. Usually, you found it amusing. Today, though, you'd had enough.
The second he found out you'd been assigned a university project with two guys, he'd completely lost it. Not even friends. Just two classmates you barely knew outside of passing greetings in the hallway. And yet Tim had shown up at campus looking ready to commit homicide. Honestly, he probably was. The argument started outside the lecture hall and somehow only got worse from there. By the time you reached your apartment, both of you were practically spitting venom.
"You're overreacting," you'd snapped.
"And you're acting naive on purpose," Tim shot back instantly.
You still remembered the furious look in his eyes. The dangerous edge in his voice. Neither of you wanted to back down. Neither of you wanted to admit you were wrong. Eventually, exhausted and already late for work, you'd grabbed your bag and headed for the door.
"Forget it," you muttered coldly. "I seriously don't want to look at you right now."
The expression on his face after that should've made you feel guilty. It didn't. Not then. Now, thoughâŠ
You groaned quietly and rubbed a hand over your face. Fuck this shit.
You finished getting dressed and walked into the living room, planning to spend the rest of the night rotting on the couch with chips and a terrible horror movie. Maybe something bloody enough to improve your mood. You went to the living room and sat on the couch, picking up the remote.
Your phone suddenly rang. The sound nearly made you jump. You frowned at the Tim number glowing on the screen. You didn't want to, but cursing yourself, You answered the call. "Hello?"
Silence. Static crackled softly from the other side. And then a familiar voice spoke.
"Still mad at me?"
You rolled your eyes and got up from the couch to get some snacks..
"You seriously thought calling me with a Ghostface voice changer was a good idea?"
"What?" he asked innocently. "You don't like it? I thought it was romantic."
"You're insane. I'm still mad at you. Don't come to my house today.â you said and without waiting for an answer you hung up.
You tossed your phone onto the couch with an irritated groan. Of course he had called. Of course he had somehow managed to make you feel guilty, too. You grabbed the remote, already scrolling through movies and debating whether you wanted mindless comedy or graphic horror, when the sharp sound of the doorbell echoed through the apartment.
You frowned. At this hour? The bell rang again. Who the hell is showing up unannounced right now?
Reluctantly, you got up and walked to the front door. Peering through the peephole, you froze. Bernard. Your stomach immediately tightened.Â
The three of you - Tim, Bernard, and you - had met during your first year studying journalism. Somehow, despite your wildly different personalities, the friendship had stuck. Bernard had always been the easiest person to talk to. Friendly. Loyal. Endlessly patient. Which was exactly why you'd always felt guilty.
Because you knew. You'd known for years.
The way his eyes lingered on Tim a little too long. The way he always seemed disappointed whenever you and Tim disappeared together. The way he forced smiles whenever someone joked about the two of you being disgustingly in love.
Bernard had feelings for Tim. He never said it out loud. Not once. And you respected him for that. When you and Tim officially started dating, you'd expected things to become awkward. Maybe even ugly. But Bernard never complained. Never argued. Never tried to come between you. Even if it clearly hurt him.
Because of that, you and Tim made an unspoken effort to tone things down whenever Bernard was around. Less kissing. Less touching. Less obvious affection. It wasn't much. But it felt fair.
The doorbell rang a third time. You unlocked the door. The moment it swung open, Bernard practically stumbled inside. His hair was a mess. His breathing was uneven. His cheeks were flushed as if he'd run the entire way here. Most concerning of all, his hands were shaking.
"Jesus, Bernard," you said, immediately closing the door behind him. "What happened?"
He didn't answer. Instead, he turned to face you. For a moment, he simply stared. Then he took a shaky breath. And said four words that made your blood run cold.
"I know it's you."
Everything inside you went still. Your heart skipped a beat. "What?" you asked carefully.
Bernard laughed. A short, humorless sound. "Don't." His voice trembled. "Don't do that."
Your fingers curled slightly at your sides. "Bernard, I have no idea what you're talking about-"
"Stop lying!" The sudden shout made you flinch. His eyes were wide. Terrified. Furious. "I know it's you!" he yelled. "I saw you!"
A sick feeling settled in your stomach. "What exactly did you see?" you asked quietly.
Bernard swallowed. His gaze never left yours. "I saw you leaving Steph's house." Fuck. "I saw the costume." Your pulse hammered against your ribs. "I saw you running." Every instinct screamed at you to reach for a weapon. To silence him. Now. Before he could tell anyone. Before he could ruin everything. But Bernard kept talking.
"I followed you," he said, voice cracking slightly. "I didn't know what I was seeing at first. I thought I was imagining things." He took another step closer. "I followed you all the way across three blocks."Â The room suddenly felt too small. Too warm. Too suffocating. Then Bernard looked you directly in the eyes. And delivered the final blow. "I saw you take off the mask."
Silence. Heavy. Oppressive. Deadly. Neither of you moved. Neither of you spoke. Because for the first time since he'd walked through the door, both of you understood exactly what came next. And neither of you wanted to say it out loud.
"You're a fucking murderer." The accusation hung in the air between you. For a moment, neither of you moved. Then a slow smile spread across your face.
"And what exactly are you going to do about it?"
Bernard visibly flinched. Just for a second. But you saw it. Fear. Good. At least one of you was being realistic about the situation.
"I won't let you hurt Tim," he shot back.
You raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"
"I sent him a message." That made you pause. Bernard straightened slightly, clearly mistaking your silence for concern. "He knows everything."
You almost laughed. "Does he?"
"Yes." His voice grew firmer. "He's probably on his way to the police right now."
And that did make you laugh. A genuine laugh. The kind that left your shoulders shaking. Bernard stared at you. Confused. Then angry.
"Why are you laughing?"
You covered your mouth briefly, trying and failing to suppress another chuckle. "Oh my God."
"What?"
"You actually believe that."
His expression hardened. "You're finished."
You tilted your head. "Am I?"
"You're going to prison."
The confidence in his voice would've been adorable under different circumstances. You took a slow step forward. Bernard immediately stepped back. Your smile widened. "Bernard."
"He just found out what you are." Another step. Another retreat. "He found out you're a monster." You almost felt sorry for him. Almost. "You think he actually loves you after this?" A nervous laugh escaped him. Harsh. Unsteady. "Jesus Christ, look at yourself."
The room fell silent. You studied him carefully. The trembling hands. The uneven breathing. The way he kept glancing toward the door. Waiting. Hoping. Your smile slowly disappeared. And suddenly everything made sense. The message. The confidence. The stalling. Bernard wasn't here because he thought he could stop you. He was buying time. Time for Tim to arrive. Maybe with the police. Maybe with help. Maybe with anyone. How sweet. How unbelievably stupid. You took another step forward. This time Bernard didn't move. He couldn't. Because his back hit the wall.
"Tell me something," you said softly. The fear in his eyes deepened. A cruel smile tugged at the corner of your mouth. "Did you really think you could come here and survive?"
For a split second, Bernard froze. Then he moved. Fast. Before you could react, his hand disappeared into the pocket of his denim jacket and emerged holding a small black stun gun. Your eyes widened.
"Bern-" The crackle of electricity cut you off. The device connected with your arm, and a violent surge shot through your body. "FUCK!"
Pain exploded through your muscles. Your knees buckled instantly, sending you crashing to the floor. The world tilted. Every nerve felt like it was on fire. Bernard stumbled backward, breathing hard, still gripping the stun gun with trembling fingers. But the moment the current stopped, instinct took over.
You lunged. Your hand shot out and wrapped around his ankle. With a sharp yank, you pulled. Bernard lost his balance immediately. He hit the floor with a startled shout, the stun gun flying from his hand and skidding across the room.
"You fucking bastard!" The pain still coursed through your body, making every movement feel sluggish, but anger pushed you forward. "I wasn't even planning on hurting you!" You slammed your fist into his face. His head snapped to the side. Blood instantly spilled from his nose. "But you're making this really difficult!"
Another punch. Bernard cried out and threw his arms up to shield himself. You didn't let him. Within seconds, you were straddling his waist, pinning him beneath you. He struggled wildly. You grabbed him by the throat. His eyes widened in panic.
Both hands immediately shot up, trying to pry your fingers away. The harder he fought, the tighter your grip became. You watched his face redden. Watched desperation creep into his expression. Watched him struggle for every breath. For a moment, you almost enjoyed it. And that was your mistake.
Because while your attention was fixed on his face, Bernard's hand was blindly searching the floor beside him. Looking for anything. Anything at all. His fingers brushed against ceramic. A flowerpot. His eyes flashed with sudden determination. You noticed the movement too late. Something entered your peripheral vision. Your head turned instinctively-
Crack.
Pain exploded across your temple. The flowerpot shattered against the side of your head with enough force to send your vision swimming. The room spun. A sharp ringing filled your ears. Your grip vanished instantly. You fell sideways, rolling off Bernard and crashing onto the floor. For several seconds, all you could do was blink at the ceiling as the world blurred and tilted around you. Somewhere nearby, you heard Bernard coughing violently as he sucked air back into his lungs.
"You fucking asshole," you wheezed. Your head was still spinning from the flowerpot, but you forced yourself onto your elbows. A mistake. A sharp pain exploded through your stomach. Bernard's foot slammed into the bruise left by your earlier fight. The exact same spot. "FUCK!"
A strangled cry escaped your lips as you curled onto your side, clutching your stomach. Tears sprang to your eyes. God, that hurt. Bernard staggered backward, still breathing heavily from where you'd nearly choked him unconscious.
"You're a fucking psychopath." His voice came out hoarse and broken. "Tim will be happier when you're rotting in prison."
You glared at him through watery eyes. Despite everything, Bernard felt a brief stab of guilt at the sight of you curled up on the floor. You had been his friend once. A real friend. But then he remembered Steph. The other victims. And Tim. Especially Tim.
Because if Bernard hadn't discovered the truth, sooner or later Tim would've become another body. Another name in the news. Another victim. Bernard couldn't let that happen. He cared about Tim too much. Maybe learning that his girlfriend was a serial killer would destroy him. Maybe it would break his heart. But he'd survive. Eventually. At least he'd be alive.
Tim was probably already on his way here. And if everything went according to plan, the police would be with him. Relief washed over Bernard. For the first time all night, he felt like he'd won.Â
Then another thought crossed his mind. A cruel one. A selfish one. You deserved to suffer. Not just because of the murders. But because of Tim. Because you'd taken him. Every smile. Every date. Every kiss. Everything Bernard had secretly wanted for years belonged to you.
And now, watching you lying helpless on the floor, a dark part of him wanted you to feel even a fraction of the pain he'd carried all this time. His jaw tightened. Slowly, he lifted his foot again. Ready to kick you. Then-
Crack.
A sickening thud echoed through the apartment. Bernard's eyes widened. Pain exploded across the back of his skull. His knees buckled instantly. For a second, he didn't even understand what had happened. Then darkness swallowed him whole. His body collapsed onto the floor.
You blinked. Confused. Dazed. Despite the pain, you rolled onto your back and looked up. A familiar figure stood over Bernard's unconscious body.
Tim.
His chest rose and fell rapidly. His eyes were wide with panic. In his hands was the ceramic cat figurine that normally sat on the cabinet in your hallway. A large crack now ran through its side.
The moment his gaze landed on you, his expression softened. Relief flooded his features. Then, almost immediately, it twisted into something unhinged. A crooked smile spread across his face.
He let the broken ceramic cat slip from his fingers, barely sparing Bernard a glance before stepping over his unconscious body.
"Well, well, well..." he breathed, shaking his head. He crouched beside you and brushed a strand of hair away from your face. "What would you do without me, love?"
summary: You were supposed to be Dick Graysonâs perfect alibi. Instead, somewhere between late-night kisses and whispered âI love youâs, Gothamâs Ghostface killer fell in love with his final girl. Unfortunately for you, discovering his secret only makes him want to keep you even closer.
tags: NSFW 18+, Fingering, Dirty Talk, Chase Kink, Sexual Content, Scream AU, Ghostface Dick Grayson, Dark AU, Toxic Relationship, Possessive Dick, Manipulation, Violence, Power Imbalance
a/n: Hey! This is my first post, so Iâm a little nervous haha. English isnât my first language, so if you notice any mistakes, feel free to point them out. Iâm always open to feedback. I really hope you enjoy the story!
Part 2 Part 3
Today was going to be perfect. You stepped back and admired your work. The dining table was covered with a crisp white tablecloth, the plates and silverware arranged perfectly, and candles flickered softly around the room, casting a warm golden glow. But something was still missing⊠Pictures. Maybe you could scatter a few photographs of the two of you around the living room.
Smiling to yourself, you hurried upstairs to Dick's room. He kept dozens of framed photos on his shelves, and you figured he wouldn't mind if you borrowed a few for the evening. As you stepped inside, your eyes immediately scanned the room, locating the familiar frames. Then something else caught your attention. A corner of a cardboard box stuck awkwardly out from beneath the bed, as if Dick had shoved it there in a hurry and forgotten to push it all the way in.
Maybe it's a gift for me. The thought immediately brought a grin to your face. You knew you shouldn't snoop. Really, you did. But before you could stop yourself, your feet were already carrying you toward the bed. Just a quick peek, you promised yourself. One glance and then I'll put it back exactly where it was. Maybe it was that dress you'd shown him last week⊠Or a necklace⊠Or maybe a spicy little toy you could use after dinner...
Biting back a smile, you carefully lifted the lid. Then you froze. This was definitely not a gift.
Hunting knife stained with dried blood, a black hooded robe, and that mask. That fucking Ghostface mask. The same one plastered all over the news for the past month. The same one worn by the psycho who had been butchering people across Gotham.
âY/N,â Dick's voice made your blood run cold. You looked up. He stood in the doorway, his broad frame blocking the exit completely. His expression was tight, almost desperate, as he took a cautious step forward. âItâs not what it looks like.â
Today marked seven months since you started dating, and Dick Grayson had been the best boyfriend youâd ever had. Loving, charming, funny, attentive - and so unbelievably handsome it almost felt unfair. Until this moment, being with Bruce Wayneâs adopted son had seemed like the best thing that had ever happened to you. Until now.
Your stomach twisted violently.
Dick? Your Dick? The boy who followed you around like a lovesick puppy, constantly touching you, kissing your forehead, making you laugh until your ribs hurt. He couldnât possibly be a cold-blooded murderer. âŠRight?Â
âHey, baby, look at me,â he says softly, lifting his hands as if approaching a frightened animal. âDonât look at that. Donât you trust me?â He takes another careful step toward you.
Instantly, you recoil, your back hitting the desk behind you. âDonât come any closer!â you shout, your voice cracking. Dick freezes. For a second, neither of you moves. The room suddenly feels too small, the air too heavy to breathe. Then his expression crumbles.
âY/NâŠâ he whispers, almost hurt. âPlease. You know me.â But do you? Because the boy standing in front of you suddenly feels like a stranger.
âPlease,â he says carefully, his voice softer now, calmer - the same tone he always used whenever you were upset. âJust calm down, sit with me, and let me explain.â But behind the gentle expression, his mind is racing. He couldnât let you go to the police. Not after everything heâd done. He had gone too far already, crossed too many lines to turn back now.Â
He couldnât let you leave. But the worst part? He didnât want to hurt you anymore. Not the way he originally planned to when this whole thing started.
At first, it had been simple.
Commissioner Gordon had started looking into the Ghostface murders more closely, asking sharper questions, noticing details Dick had worked carefully to hide. He needed a distraction. Something convincing enough to take suspicion away from him completely.
If Ghostface murdered a girl, nobody would ever suspect the grieving, heartbroken boyfriend hiding beneath the mask. What kind of psychopath would kill the person they loved most?
It was perfect. At least, it was supposed to be.
Because somewhere between the late-night phone calls, movie nights, sleepy kisses, and the way your face lit up every time you saw him⊠everything got completely fucked. He fell in love with you. Really, truly in love. Dick hated admitting it, even to himself. But he loved how kind you were, how gentle. The way you cared about everyone so naturally, even strangers. He loved your laugh, your terrible jokes, the way you always reached for his hand absentmindedly like it belonged there. You were never supposed to become real to him. You were supposed to be part of the plan.
Your hands started shaking uncontrollably, your eyes darting frantically around the room, searching for anything - anything at all - that could help you.
A weapon. A way out. Something.
Because now that you knew his secret, you were sure of one thing: Dick Grayson was never going to let you leave this house alive.
âWhat exactly do you want to explain?â you snap, your voice trembling despite your attempt to sound strong. âThat youâre a murderer? That youâve been running around the city for a month slaughtering innocent people, that youâŠâ Suddenly, the words die in your throat. Your entire body goes cold. âOh my GodâŠâ
Dickâs expression changes instantly. You stare at him in horror, the realization crashing into you so violently it almost makes you sick. The mask of guilt disappeared, replaced by a mocking smile.
âYou killed Stephanie,â you whisper. âOh my God⊠you killed Steph.â Your voice breaks completely.
Your best friend. The same Stephanie who spent hours talking about her future, her dream job, the apartment she wanted after graduation. Stephanie, who dragged you out whenever you were sad. Stephanie, who trusted Dick enough to joke around with him every time the three of you hung out together.
And all this time⊠He knew.
He had killed her, then held you while you cried yourself to sleep afterward. He kissed your forehead, wiped away your tears, whispered comforting lies into your skin while her blood was probably still under his fingernails.
Your stomach turns violently. Your eyes drift toward the open box again, landing on the knife resting on top of the costume. And suddenly, all you can picture is Stephanieâs face. Her smile. Her laugh. Everything she couldâve become before Dick slit her throat and took it all away from her.
Your hands curl into fists. No. You werenât going to let him hurt anyone else.
âY/NâŠâ Dick says quietly, but thereâs something sharper underneath his voice now. A warning. âDonât.â His gaze flicks toward the knife for half a second before returning to you. âPlease,â he says again, slower this time. âDonât make this worse.â
He really, really doesnât want to hurt you. But if you try to attack him? Then heâll do whatever he has to.
You lunged for the box. The second your fingers brushed the knife handle, Dick moved too.
âShit-â
He caught you before you could grab it properly, both of you crashing hard onto the floor beside the bed. The knife clattered somewhere between your bodies as panic surged through you. You reached for it desperately. Dick grabbed you first.
His hands locked around your wrists and slammed them against the floor above your head with terrifying ease. A strangled gasp left your throat as his weight pinned you beneath him completely.
Too strong. Way too strong.
He had always brushed it off with lazy jokes about spending too much time at the gym, but this wasnât normal. No average guy could overpower you this effortlessly.
âOh, sweetheart,â Dick murmurs, tilting his head slightly. Thereâs something dark behind his blue eyes now, something almost frighteningly calm. âDonât do this.â The nickname makes your skin crawl.
âGet the fuck off me!â you snap, thrashing violently beneath him.
You jerk your knee upward, aiming straight for his crotch. Dick catches your leg instantly.
âEasy,â he mutters, gripping your thigh tightly before pinning your leg down beside the other. âYouâre gonna hurt me, honey.â
The slightly playful tone in his voice only makes your anger explode further. Even now, he was flirting. Like this was some stupid game instead of a nightmare.
âYou fucking liar,â you spit, glaring up at him with pure hatred.
A slow grin spreads across Dickâs face.
âMmm,â he hums teasingly, leaning closer as he keeps you trapped beneath him effortlessly. âI love it when you talk dirty to me.â
His grip tightens just slightly around your wrists - not enough to injure you, just enough to remind you exactly who was in control here. Your breathing turns uneven. Not because of him. Because no matter how much you fought, no matter how hard you twisted beneath him - You couldnât get free.
âCan I ask you a question?â Dick murmurs.
Before you can answer, he leans down closer, so close you can feel his breath against your skin. His lips brush the shell of your ear as he whispers softly: âWhatâs your favorite horror movie?â
A shiver runs violently down your spine. Goosebumps spread across your skin instantly, and you squeeze your eyes shut for a brief second, silently cursing yourself. Because even now - even like this - Dick still affected you like a drug.
From the very first date, keeping your hands off him had been nearly impossible. The stupid smirk, the teasing touches, the way he always looked at you like you were the only person in the room. And it definitely wasnât one-sided. Some days, if Dick had his way, he probably wouldnât let you leave his bed at all, keeping you tangled beneath him for hours while he kissed and touched you until neither of you could think straight. You hated that your body still remembered those feelings now.
âThe one where the final girl kills the psychotic serial killer,â you say through clenched teeth.
Dick pulls back just enough to look at you properly. For a second, his expression almost softens. One of his hands keeps your wrists pinned effortlessly while the other rises slowly to your face. His fingertips brush against your cheek with such unbearable gentleness that your resolve wavers for half a heartbeat.
Then you bite him.
Hard.
âFuck!â Dick jerks back with a sharp hiss of pain, instinctively loosening his grip for just a second.
Enough.
You rip one hand free immediately and scramble for the knife lying beside the open box. Dick stumbles back a step, clutching the hand you bit while glaring at you in irritation. And then he sees the knife. The atmosphere changes instantly. You push yourself upright slowly, gripping the handle tightly despite your shaking hands, keeping the blade pointed directly at him as you begin backing toward the bedroom door.
Dick watches your every movement carefully. A pained wince crosses his face as he rubs the fresh bite mark forming on his hand. You were far feistier than heâd expected when this started. Not that he minded.
Actually⊠It was kind of attractive. His eyes drag slowly over you before he lets out a quiet laugh, low and almost breathless.
âThere she is,â he murmurs, staring at you like heâs seeing something beautiful instead of terrifying. âThatâs my girl. Now, sweetheartâŠâ Dick says softly, raising both hands in mock surrender as he stalks toward you down the hallway. âLetâs talk about this.â
âTalk about what?â you snap, backing away from him carefully, the knife trembling in your grip. âAbout how you lied to me this entire time? About how you pretended to love me while planning how to kill me? Or maybe about the fifteen people you murdered? About Stephanie?â Your voice cracks violently. âHow exactly do you expect me to have a conversation with you right now?!â
Dick keeps walking toward you slowly, hands still raised, expression calm in a way that makes your stomach twist. The sight of you backing away from him with his knife clenched in your hands does something dangerous to him. His pulse races unexpectedly as his mind flickers through every possible outcome of this situation.
You looked terrified. Cornered. Desperate.
And somehow, it only made him want you more.
âYou probably wonât believe me,â he says evenly, his voice smooth despite the tension hanging between you both, âbut I really do love you.â Another slow step. âI didnât plan for that part,â he admits with a quiet laugh under his breath. âBut I fucking love you, sweetheart. And if you hadnât found that boxâŠâ His eyes soften slightly. âI never wouldâve hurt you.â
âFucking liar!â you spit instantly.
Dick laughs outright at that. Itâs warm. Genuine. Completely insane.
He takes another step closer while you continue backing away from him down the staircase landing. You looked so furious, glaring at him like you hated him with every ounce of your being - and yet the most you could do was curse at him and threaten him with shaking hands. You both knew you werenât winning this fight.
âYouâre really cute when youâre angry,â he teases casually. Then his grin widens. âBesides⊠you have to admit youâre ridiculously easy to manipulate sometimes.â
You stare at him in disbelief.
âManipulate?â you repeat sharply. âPlease. You were the one begging me to be your girlfriend. You practically got on your knees thanking me when I finally agreed to sleep with you.â Dickâs smile twitches wider. âYou were the one panicking every time I met your fucked-up rich family,â you continue bitterly, voice shaking as you descend another step backward. âYouâre the one who begged me not to leave you. And every single time we had sex, you were whining about how much you loved me and how youâd do anything for me while I rode-â
âJesus Christ,â Dick laughs breathlessly, rubbing a hand over his mouth for a second like heâs genuinely entertained despite the situation.
You reach the stairs. Your eyes flick downward briefly. Then you turn and run.
âY/N-â
You sprint down the staircase as fast as possible, your heartbeat roaring in your ears while footsteps thunder behind you instantly. Too fast⊠He was too fast...
The moment you reach the bottom floor and lunge toward the front door, a violent yank jerks you backward by the back of your silk shirt - the one you wore tonight specifically because Dick once told you it made you look irresistible.
You stumble hard. The knife flies from your grasp as you crash painfully onto the floor. Before you can even react, Dick is already on top of you. He kneels over your legs, pinning you effortlessly beneath him again, wearing that same lazy grin like this is all just some twisted game of cat and mouse he already knew heâd win.
âYou really thought I wouldnât plan for this?â he muses, reaching past you to grab the knife from the floor. âSweetheartâŠâ He twirls the blade lazily between his fingers. âI live for the chase.â Then he leans down slightly, resting his elbows on his knees like he has all the time in the world. A smirk pulls at the corner of his lips. âAnd honestly?â he murmurs softly, blue eyes dragging slowly over your trembling form, âyouâre making this way too fun for me.â
You forced yourself to pull away as much as you could beneath him, your mind racing desperately for any possible way out. Then an idea hit you.
Slowly, cautiously, you shifted your hips against him. Dick froze for half a second. A dark, dangerous chuckle rumbled from his chest as he felt the movement, his pupils dilating briefly before his expression smoothed back into something teasing and controlled.
âOh no,â he murmured, voice low with amusement. âDonât tell me youâre trying to distract me. Thatâs so⊠low of you.â
He shifted deliberately against you once, just enough to make your breath hitch involuntarily.
âClever girl,â he whispers near your ear. âToo bad Iâm not that easy to manipulate. Now behave,â he says sweetly. âOr this is going to become very unpleasant for both of us.â
Panic claws at your chest. You had no chance against him physically. You knew that. Dick was stronger, faster, calmer - and worst of all, he was enjoying this. But there was one thing you werenât completely sure about.
His feelings. He may have lied about loving you, but you know him well enough to know he can't resist your body.
You swallowed hard and made your choice. Without warning, you grabbed the front of his shirt and kissed him. Dick goes completely still. For one brief second, he doesnât react at all, clearly caught off guard. Then you bite his lower lip lightly - just enough to make him inhale sharply. And thatâs all it takes.
The restraint in him cracks immediately. A low sound escapes his throat as he kisses you back hard, one hand tangling tightly into your hair while the other presses against your waist possessively. The kiss turns messy and desperate almost instantly, fueled by adrenaline, anger, fear, and something far more dangerous underneath it all. You wrap your legs around his waist instinctively, pulling him closer as you try to keep him distracted.
For a moment, it actually works.
Dick breaks the kiss only to drag his mouth down the side of your neck, his breathing rougher now despite his earlier confidence. âYou really think this is enough to distract me?â he mutters against your skin, voice strained with amusement. âSweetheart⊠Iâm barely losing focus.â
âWeâll see,â you whisper back shakily. You press another kiss against his neck, subtly shifting beneath him again while your eyes dart around desperately, still searching for some kind of escape. A curse slips under Dickâs breath. His hands tighten around your hips automatically, fingers pressing hard enough to remind you how strong he really is.
And for the first time since this startedâŠHe actually sounds affected.
âMmph⊠damn,â Dick murmurs against your skin, his voice lower now, roughened by the way youâre moving beneath him. His head tilts slightly, giving you better access to his neck while his thumb traces slow circles against your hip. âYouâre just full of surprises tonight, arenât you?â His eyes narrow slightly as he watches you. âYou think that because youâre rubbing against me Iâm suddenly gonna go soft on you?â he asks teasingly. âYou think Iâm just some hormonal teenager who canât think straight?â One of his hands slides up to your chin, forcing you to look at him. âSweetheart,â he says softly, almost amused, âIâve been doing this for a long time.â
Fuck. Your pulse stutters nervously. You swallow hard and arch your back slightly beneath him, trying to keep your movements natural despite the panic clawing at your chest. You moved your hand and with a quick movement, pulled the shirt in opposite directions, and the buttons running down the middle came undone, revealing what you had underneath. Revealing a new lace bra in his favorite color. Rich Navy Blue.
Dick goes quiet. For a second, all he does is stare.
That new set of lingerie was supposed to be a surprise for later. After dinner. After wine and flirting and teasing kisses against his jaw while he smiled at you like you hung the moon. You had spent way too long picking out that matching set because you knew exactly what kind of things Dick liked.
But then you found the box.
And suddenly the entire night became something else entirely. Dickâs gaze drags slowly over your body stretched beneath him, dark and hungry enough to make heat crawl embarrassingly up your neck despite everything.
âDamnâŠâ he whispers. The word comes out almost breathless. âYou really wore this for me, huh?â
A pause. Then his mouth curls into a crooked grin.
âWere you planning on letting me take it off, sweetheart?â
âYeah,â you snap bitterly. âBut then you started trying to kill me like a fucking psychopath, so I figured you didnât deserve it anymore.â
Dick actually laughs softly at that.
âOuch,â he murmurs. âYouâre hurting my feelings, doll.â
His hand slides slowly across your exposed stomach while the other still keeps your wrists trapped above your head. Warm fingers drag upward deliberately, inch by inch, until they stop right beneath the edge of your bra. Your breath catches involuntarily.
âOh, Iâm hurting your feelings?â you laugh bitterly, squirming beneath him. âYouâre the one lying to me, murdering peopleâŠâ
âAnd yet,â Dick interrupts quietly. He leans closer until his breath brushes against your lips. âI bet youâre still wet for me.â A smug smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. âYou can hate me all you want,â he murmurs softly, eyes locked onto yours. âBut your body still responds to me.â
âWhat do I have to do to make you stop wanting to kill me?â you ask quietly, wetting your lips nervously with your tongue. You really don't want to fucking die today. Dickâs eyes drop to your mouth instantly. The hunger in his expression darkens so fast it almost startles you.
His fingers tracing lazily along the strap of your bra. A low chuckle escapes him. His gaze drags over you again, slow and openly possessive. âOh, this will be fun..â
You swallow hard beneath him. âWhat can I do to survive?â
For the first time since this started, Dick hesitates. A sigh leaves him quietly, almost frustrated with himself, like he already knows heâs making a mistake just by considering your question. His thumb strokes absentminded circles against your hip.
âIf you really want me to let you liveâŠâ he says slowly, studying your face carefully, âthen I have two conditions.â
Your stomach twists.
âYouâre gonna hate it, though.â
âTry me, Dickie.â
He laughs softly at the nickname, shaking his head. Itâs ridiculous. Completely ridiculous. Heâs pinning you beneath him, holding your life in his hands, and somehow you still find the nerve to tease him.
Honestly? It makes him want you even more.
âIâm surprised you still have the energy to mouth off right now,â he murmurs, tightening his grip on your waist slightly. âBut I guess youâve never been the type to back down from a challenge.â
He leans closer until his lips barely brush yours. He lifts one finger between you.
âFirst condition⊠You listen to me. No more running. No more fighting me. No more trying to stab me with my own knife.â His eyes lock onto yours completely. âIâm the one in control here, sweetheart. If you want to stay alive, you do what I say. Understand?â
You stare into his eyes for a long moment. Every instinct in your body screams not to trust him. But you also know you donât have a choice right now.
âI understand,â you whisper carefully.
Dick studies your face like heâs searching for any sign youâre lying. When he finds none, something warm flickers across his expression. âGood girl,â he murmurs softly. The praise sends an uncomfortable shiver down your spine. âI knew youâd eventually start thinking clearly.â His fingers brush some hair away from your face gently - disturbingly gentle for someone threatening your life minutes ago. âYouâve always been smarter than most people.â
Surprisingly his grip loosened. Just slightly. Not enough to let you go, but enough that you feel the difference immediately. His gaze stays locked on yours, searching for your reaction.
âIf you want me to stop seeing you like a problem I need to solveâŠâ he continues, thumb brushing once over your wrist, no longer restraining, just touching, âthen you stop fighting me like Iâm your enemy.â
His eyes flicker briefly over your lips again, but slower this time. Less hungry. More focused.
His hand shifts from your hip to your wrist, but instead of pinning it, he turns it over slowly, palm up, like heâs deciding something. âYou stay with me willingly.â he adds.A faint, crooked smile tugs at his mouth. âAnd in return⊠I stop treating you like something I have to catch.â
Silence stretches between you. Then, softer: âYou choose that⊠You choose meâ he murmurs. âOr we go back to me keeping you pinned and you hating every second of it.â His eyes narrow slightly. âYour call, sweetheart.â
A low rumble of a chuckle escaped his throat, a dangerous sound as his free hand came up to grip the back of your thigh. He tightened his grip on the back of your thigh, slowly spreading your legs open and positioning himself between them.
"You'll be a good little doll for me, won't you?"
You slowly nodded in agreement. He leaned down, his lips brushing the sensitive spot just behind your ear as he spoke, his voice low and controlled. One of his hands slid down to your covered crotch. His fingers pressed hard against your pants, and a moment later his hand slid under them, landing on your pussy. âAnd condition number two⊠You don't get to come unless I say so."
He rubbed slow, deliberate circles, just enough to make your breath hitch-but not enough to give you what you wanted.
"You know how I love making people beg.â
"Oh I know⊠You like it when I ask for permission⊠when I beg for youâŠ" you replied, voice softer now, breath uneven as you shifted against him instinctively, chasing more of his touch.
He growled under his breath, his eyes darkening as you ground your hips against his fingers. You gasped when two thick fingers slipped inside you without warning, working in and out in slow thrusts. But even the meassured curl of his finger had you holding him, back arching from the floor. Another finger curled in and you moaned. His fingers thrusted knuckle deep in and out again, the soft moving of skin moving around the room as your breaths covered the sound.
A broken cry escaped your throat as pleasure crashed over you in relentless pulses. He didnât stop, of course not. His fingers moved steadily, drawing it out until you were trembling and oversensitive. You cry out, hips jerking against his hand, but he pins you down, keeping you exactly where he wants. You come hard and fast, thighs trembling around him, a sharp broken cry tearing from your throat as pleasure crashes through you in relentless waves.
You were breathing heavily, trying to calm yourself. FuckâŠThis isnât how it was supposed to go, I thought. I watched as he pulled his hand out of my clothes and, looking me straight in the eyes, licked my cum from his fingers. A look of pleasure appeared on his face, and I could feel his hard dick pressing against my thigh.
âDamn, I think thatâs the fastest Iâve ever managed to make you cum. Our little chase must have really turned you on, baby. Makes me wonder how fast I can make you cum with my dick⊠maybe weâll even beat our last record. Weâre going to have some fun tonightâŠâ
