✶ a seemingly harmless joke makes your boyfriend’s insecurities unravel.
002. WARNINGS !
✶ angsty but it has comfort.
003. NOTE !
✶ my requests are open for: bruce wayne, clark kent, dick grayson & jason todd. feel free to leave anything you would like to read about and i’ll do my best to write it 🩵
word count : 792
You hadn’t thought much of it when you joked, “Guess I just don’t want to end up like you and Starfire, y’know?”
The words had rolled off your tongue so easily, meant to tease him like you teased him about his dramatic music playlists, his tendency to brood in the dark until you flipped the lights on, or the way he insisted on parkouring over the couch instead of just walking around it like a normal person.
But with Dick, you always forget just how heavy his heart really is.
So when the knock came at your apartment door that evening, you weren’t expecting him to be standing there, hair ruffled from the wind, dressed in his civilian clothing, and holding a bunch of flowers that looked like he’d grabbed them in a rush on the way over. Not perfectly arranged, not expensive—just heartfelt.
“Dick?” You blinked at him. “What are you—”
“I’m not that guy anymore.” The words rushed out before you even moved to let him in. He shoved the flowers toward you like they were a shield. “I just—I want you to know that. I’ve changed. I’m a better person now. I mean it.”
“Okay… slow down. You’re talking like I just accused you of something.”
But he kept going, words tumbling faster than he could control. “I don’t want you thinking I’ll screw this up. I don’t want you to feel like I’ll—like I’ll love you half-way, or abandon you, or…” His jaw tightened, his eyes flicking away like it was too hard to meet your gaze. “I’ve made mistakes. Big ones. I hurt people who didn’t deserve it. And I can’t—if you’re afraid I’ll do that to you, then I need to show you I won’t. Ever.”
You frowned, stepping aside so he could come in. “Is this because of that dumb joke I made earlier?”
“It wasn’t dumb,” he said quickly, almost too quickly. “What if there was truth in it? What if you really are worried about that? Because I can’t stand the idea that you’re sitting here, wondering when I’m going to fall apart and ruin this.”
For a long second, you just looked at him. The great Nightwing, who could talk down mob bosses and flip through gunfire like it was a playground, was standing in your doorway with flowers clenched in white-knuckled hands, voice breaking because of an offhand joke you’d made.
“Dick,” you whispered, gently taking the flowers from him before they crumpled under his grip. “Hey. Look at me.”
Reluctantly, he did.
“You don’t have to prove yourself to me. Not with flowers. Not with speeches.” You reached for his hand, squeezing it until you felt some of the tension bleed out of him. “You already do it every day. In how you come home to me. In how you let me see you—the real you, not just the mask or the perfect acrobat or the golden boy. That’s what tells me you’ve changed.”
His mouth opened, then closed again, words lost somewhere in his throat. He looked young in that moment, younger than you’d seen him in years, like the weight he carried was pressing down harder than usual.
You brushed your thumb over the back of his hand, softer now. “I’m not Starfire. I’m not Barbara. I’m me. And you don’t have to relive those chapters every time you look at me. I don’t compare myself to them. You don’t need to either.”
His chest rose and fell, uneven, as if he hadn’t realized until now how tightly he’d been holding his breath. Then, slowly, his shoulders dropped.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured, voice rough. “I just—I don’t want to lose this. Lose you.”
“You won’t.” You stepped forward, wrapping your arms around his waist and pulling him in until his chin rested against the top of your head. He melted into the hug almost instantly, clutching you back like you were the only steady thing in the room. “You’ve already done the hard part, Dick. You’ve grown. You’re still growing. And I see it, every single day. That’s why I’m here.”
The silence stretched between you, warm and safe, broken only by his uneven breathing as he pressed his face into your hair.
“Okay,” he whispered finally, almost like a vow. “Okay.”
You smiled against his chest, giving him a gentle squeeze. “Though, for the record, if you want to keep bringing me flowers whenever you spiral like this… I won’t complain.”
That earned you a soft laugh, muffled into your hair, but real. The kind of laugh that reminded you that for all his guilt and scars, Dick Grayson still knew how to find light.
And you were more than happy to keep reminding him of it.
Warnings: thigh riding, female reader, dom? Dick, smut, cursing, use of y/n (I think?) teasing, sub reader
Authors note: I can’t believe I’ve never wrote about dick Grayson, and he’s my favorite DC character omg I had a BALL writing this one
🎃💀kinktober index💀🎃
You’d been teasing him all night, and you knew it.
Dick’s eyes had been following you like a shadow, lingering on the sway of your hips, the way your lips wrapped around your straw when you were drinking, the sly little looks you tossed over your shoulder just to rile him up.
Now, hours later, you were straddling his thigh on the edge of his bed, and the game had shifted.
His Nightwing suit was still half on, peeled down to his waist, sweat slick on his chest from patrol. His hair stuck up in messy tufts, the kind only Dick could make look good.
His hands rested lazily on your hips as if he wasn’t in full control of the situation, but the glint in his blue eyes told you otherwise.
“Go on” he said, voice low but playful. “You wanted my attention so bad, baby? Take it. Ride me.”
You shivered at the command, your fingers tightening on his shoulders. Slowly, you ground your hips down, the muscle of his thigh firm and unrelenting beneath you.
The friction against your soaked panties was immediate, sharp, and it made your breath catch.
“That’s it” Dick murmured, lips quirking into a smirk as he watched your face in the dim light. His hands slid up your sides, not guiding, just resting, as if he was content to let you do all the work. “Look at you already making a mess on me. Didn’t take long, huh?”
You whined, rutting against him harder. His thigh flexed under you, the muscle shifting, and it sent a shockwave of pleasure straight through your core.
He chuckled, leaning in close to kiss your jaw, then your neck. “Feels good, doesn’t it? Thought so.”
Your head tipped back, a moan spilling out, and he caught your chin with his hand, tilting your face down so you had to meet his gaze. “Eyes on me, sweetheart. I wanna watch you come apart.”
The rhythm of your hips grew frantic, every drag of your clit against his thigh winding you tighter.
Dick’s breathing deepened, his eyes darkening as he took in the sight of you, panting, desperate, grinding yourself against him like you’d die if you stopped.
“God, you’re gorgeous” he groaned, voice breaking with heat. “All needy for me, using me to get yourself off… fuck, I could watch this all night.”
Your nails dug into his shoulders as you trembled, your orgasm building fast. The pressure of his hand on your back, the flex of his thigh beneath you, his filthy encouragements, it was all too much.
“Dick—fuck, I’m—”
“Come for me.” he urged, gripping your hips now, grinding you harder against his thigh. “Mess me up, baby. Wanna feel you soak through those panties.”
You shattered, crying out his name as you ground against him through your orgasm, your thighs shaking, your body jerking helplessly. Dick held you steady, murmuring, “That’s it, that’s my doll. So perfect. So good for me.”
Even as the waves subsided, you kept rocking against him, chasing more, the overstimulation almost painful but delicious. Dick hissed, his own cock straining against his boxers at the sight.
“You’re insatiable, aren’t you?” he teased, pulling you flush against him and kissing you hard, his tongue sliding into your mouth with desperate hunger.
When he pulled back, his lips were wet, his grin feral. “Guess we’re not stopping until you’ve made a whole fucking mess of me.”
And with that, he shifted beneath you, flexing his thigh again, dragging another broken moan from your lips as you collapsed against his chest.
hi cece!! can i please request prompt 62 with Dick Grayson 🫶🏻 i feel like there’s so many directions it can go and i know you’ll do it justice
i fear i can sense that dick is gonna be a new hyperfixation character to write for🤠thank you for requesting!🫶🏽
62. "it's too bad we never did. we would've been great together."
.
“On a scale from one to ten, how likely are you to punch my throat if I say you look beautiful tonight?”
“I’d say a solid six.”
“I’ll take my chances,” Dick grinned, handing you one of the champagne flutes he was holding before settling by your side as the two of you observed the ballroom around you. “I think knowing you have at least four weapons on you at this very moment makes you even hotter.”
“Seven,” you corrected, keeping your eyes on your surroundings rather than the smirking boy next to you.
Another Wayne Gala, another excuse for the socialities of Gotham to dress up under the guise of charity. But it also provided the best cover for the mission at hand. Nothing too strenuous or complicated, just a simple recon. Flash a few smiles, bat some eyelashes, gather as much information as drunk socialites are willing to spill and hope the night doesn’t end up with a need to use any force.
“Knew it,” he mused, taking a long sip from his flute. There was a voice in the back of his head—one that oddly sounded like Bruce—reminded him to keep his eyes on the room, on the targets, on his surroundings. But his eyes were locked on you. “You haven’t changed.”
Your eyebrow twitched. “You think you still know me?”
“I don’t think I could forget you,” Dick answered honestly.
“You didn’t seem to have any issues the last four years.”
It took years of training and prancing around these galas to keep himself from visibly wincing, from letting the socialites of Gotham catch a hint of weakness on him. But the blow was deserved and he knew it, he was expecting it. Dick was just naive enough to hope it wouldn’t happen until after the mission when they shuffled into the Batcave for a debrief.
There were a number of things Dick could have said in response. He could have apologised for not calling when he had stormed out of Wayne Manor, pissed and hurt and raging and desperate for something familiar in his life to cling onto when everything else was falling apart. He could have told you about the millions of times he reached for his phone, his thumb hovering over your contact before cowardice took over. He could have told you that in the last four years, there hadn’t been a day he didn’t think about you, about everything that could have been if he just let himself be vulnerable.
Except none of that came out when he spoke.
“I wish you came with me,” Dick said, his voice softer than intended. “When I left Gotham. I wish you came with me.”
You swallowed, finally tearing your eyes away from the crowd to look at him. “Would it have changed anything?”
Would your feelings have overridden your fear of letting in anyone close?
“We could’ve worked together,” Dick said, stepping a little closer to you—closer than was appropriate at these damn galas but he didn’t care.
“You would’ve let me join your Titans?” You asked, trying so hard to keep your voice smooth and unbothered, but you both heard the doubt slipped between the words. That question that had been biting away at your thoughts for the last four years whenever you thought about Dick, about what he was doing, about the life he was living when he left you behind in Gotham.
“We would’ve made a killer team, babe.”
The sincerity in his voice made you clutch your champagne flute a little tighter.
“It’s too bad we never did,” you said, clearing your throat and tearing your eyes away from Dick before you could see the devastation in his eyes, before you could feel your heartbreak like it did four years ago. “We would’ve been great together,” you belatedly agreed.
“Better late that never,” Dick retorted, something akin to hope in his voice as he settled by your side and shifted his gaze to the crowd. “I bet I could kick your ass in a spar match now.”
You snorted before you could stop yourself. “You wish, Grayson.”
He smiled brightly at the sound. “You wanna test it?”
You glanced at him for a few moments before giving him a softer smile. “It’s a date.”
Dick beamed.
A small crackle of static was heard before a voice came through.
“If the two of you are done with the little reunion, we have a handsy business tycoon who looks one whiskey away from telling you his social security number. Get on with the mission.”
Summary: Growing up in Haly's circus and losing their parents in the same night makes the reader and Dick closer than anyone else. Together they go through life having one another's backs though every life change, even eventually becoming Robin and Blue Jay together. What happens when feelings have changed and slowly start to be revealed?
Rating: PG-13 ~ For fluff and cuteness, but more adult commentary or even some triggering content.
⚠️Warnings: Mentions of weapons and fighting, Very slow burn, language (and yes I’m aware this is a kids show, but we’re going to make this story have light language so…) mentions of Dick’s parents deaths,
Full Series Word Count:
Series Playlist {Coming soon}
Read:
Independence Day Fireworks Welcome To Happy Harbor {Coming soon}
Request: Anon- heyy request for Dick Grayson , fluff maybe , can you write about the reader coming home after an exhausting day and dick come home with food and they both have a cute cuddle session on the couch.
Word Count: 419
Author: Charlotte
Your night-time routine was usually one of the more hectic times of day and luckily it was at the end of the day or you would find it impossible to function for any more of the day. Your husband didn’t finish work until the evening, so it was down to you to provide dinner for your two young children and get the bathed and put to bed at a reasonable hour for them to get enough sleep to cause more trouble tomorrow. Neither of them wanted to go to sleep but after what felt like a lifetime, they had both fallen asleep and allowed you to collapse onto the sofa and wait the few minutes until your husband would return.
Dick had sent you a text to tell you that he would be bringing you dinner, so your stomach was ferociously growling as you were used to eating your dinner at the same time as your children. When the door unlocked, you almost jumped up in excitement. You did your best to wait patiently for him to enter the living room and it paid off to see his sweet yet tired smile as he entered the room.
“Evening,” he said, placing the bag of takeaway onto the coffee table.
“What’d you get?” You asked, ignoring the pleasantries, desperate to eat whatever greasy food he had gotten for the two of you.
“Chinese.”
You grinned at your husband as the two of you dove into the bag and shared out the boxes of food to eat. You grabbed the chopsticks and dove into the chow mein in the box that you had claimed for yourself.
“God I love you,” you moaned, your mouth half full with the food that you had shovelled into your mouth.
“Are you talking to me or your dinner?” Dick chuckled.
“Both,” you laughed softly.
Once you had eaten your mouthful, you left a greasy kiss on your husband’s cheek, gaining an unpleasant expression from him.
“This is way better than the dinosaur nuggets I would have had, if I had eaten with the kids,” you stated.
“Those nuggets again?” Dick questioned.
“I’m a weak woman,” you sighed. “I wasn’t in the mood to face a tantrum and they both love dinosaur nuggets, so it was a safe option, not the best nutritionally but the best for my mental health.”
He wrapped an arm around your shoulders to pull you into a lopsided hug as the two of you shared a spice and grease filled kiss.
Request: I would like to request a soft Christmas morning with Dick where everything feels right. There's snow falling outside, nowhere to be and he's just get babied by his love, he deserves it.
Warning: fluff
A/N: Merry Christmas everyone! I hope everyone has a wonderful day today! Sending my love to every single one of you :)
Word count: 1.4k
Dick Grayson loved to spend Christmas mornings with you. From the moment that he woke up to the moment he went back to sleep - he loved the entire day with you. It was the only day of the year that it seemed he could go uninterrupted with you and he put good use to it too.
It was cold that year in Gotham. The snow that never seemed to end, frigid winds that always had you pulling him a little closer at night for warmth. Christmas day was no different. Snow fell from outside your apartment's windows. Dark, gray skies allowed for your small tree to shine bright in the cramped space.
The presents that were once perfectly wrapped under the tree were scattered around the living room. Dick, as always, managed to find a way to spoil you. He didn't care about the value of the gifts, just the sentiment behind them. Besides, being with you was all that he could really ask for.
Some cheesy Christmas movie played on your TV, but at the moment your attention was solely on Dick. He laid in your arms, snuggled into the crook of your neck where his warm breath sent chills up your spine. Without even needing to see his face, you knew he had that loving smile plastered on it.
He was already half asleep once more. Between your fingers massaging at his scalp and the warmth of being in your arms he was ready for a nap again. It had been an early morning too, Dick had woken you up just past the crack of dawn with excitement of finally being able to give you the gifts he had been so desperately waiting for.
"We can go back to bed, babe," You chuckled as he hummed with content. The couch was far too small for the both of you but he still managed to trap you on it every other day. "You seem tired."
As if he wanted to defy you, Dick popped up. He no longer looked exhausted but rather full of energy once more. December always reminded him of his time with his parents and the circus. The extra bright lights, joyful music - not to mention there were always more people at their shows.
As hard as his first holiday season without them was, he was sure as hell glad to have you to enjoy them with now. Every year it brought out the kid in him and it was always great to see him filled with so much joy.
"Babe, if I go back to bed now we're not getting back up at all," Dick joked. He pecked your lips before climbing off of you completely. His hand extended to grab yours - and just to get the warmth of him back - you accepted. Dick twirled you around to the music playing from the TV.
He swayed you around the living room, one hand on your hip and the other enclosed in yours. After all the years of being in Bruce's home, Dick had perfected the art of slow dancing. As cheesy as it was, you were glad that he had the skill for moments like these. Just the two of you, and nothing but an intimate moment.
As the song came to an end, Dick dipped you. He brought your lips to his when pulling you back up. He tasted of the hot chocolate that he had made for you both earlier. "Pretty out there today, huh?" you asked. The snow fell in large flakes, covering everything in its path white.
"It is," Dick agreed. He wrapped his arms around you from behind so he too could appreciate the view. It wasn't much, but it was your home. "However, I'm far more glad to be here inside with you where we can be nice, warm, and cozy." He kissed the side of your face. The hoard of blankets on your couch proved that.
There was a plethora of blankets everywhere. Your living room, bedroom - hell there was even one in your kitchen half the time. Dick loved to pull you into him and cocoon the blankets around you both. He had you snuggled up against him that morning with three extra blankets covering you both.
He was stuck between wanting to get up and a deep desire to hold you for several more hours. After several kisses and promises that you were his for the whole day, he allowed you to get out of his arms and the intense warmth of your bed.
"Do you think I can pull off making Alfred's candy cane hot chocolate?" Dick asked, pulling you out of your thoughts of your morning with him.
As much as you loved him, whenever he tried to mimic a recipe of Alfred's it always ended in failure. However, you weren't particularly in the mood to visit the big bat and his manor that day - which meant one of two things: let Dick try to make it or get no hot chocolate at all.
"Give it your best shot, my love," you reluctantly agreed. Dick kissed your cheek once more and dragged you to the kitchen. The two of you rummaged through your cabinets to hopefully find the right ingredients to make it. Although it probably wasn't what Alfred used - Dick threw it all in a pot anyway.
His phone buzzed - probably a text from the big man himself. Dick asked you to check it as he (struggled) to make the drinks. Just as you expected, it was a text from Bruce wishing you both a Merry Christmas. You tossed one of the Santa hats resting beside you over to your boyfriend and put the other one on.
His chin rested on your shoulder and a huge grin was plastered on his face as you got ready to take a photo of you both. As soon as the flash of the camera was gone, Dick peppered your face with kisses. "Hey, come on. I'm trying to send this to Bruce," you giggled at his distraction. "Awe, look how cute we are."
"You're the one making us cute, babe."
"Oh shut up, Grayson," you rolled your eyes at his flirting. Before he could distract you again, you send the picture off and wished Bruce and Alfred a Merry Christmas back. Dick still rested against your shoulder, arms tightly around you. "I hope Damian likes the gifts we got him."
"He will," Dick assured. He was close with his youngest brother, and by that point, he knew that the new Cheese Vikings game was going to be the best gift he was going to get. Besides, Damian would love anything that came from either of you. "So will Bruce, and Alfred, and everyone else we bought for - now stop worrying. We're supposed to be enjoying today."
"I am," you spun around in his arms. Any moment with Dick was an enjoyable one - especially on days like those. You kissed him once more that morning, showing off your love for him in ways that words simply couldn't. "I love seeing you happy like this, you know."
"I'm always happy when I'm with you," Dick told you. He opened his mouth to speak once more but a smell had caused you to cut him off.
"Do you smell something burning?"
"The stove!" Dick panicked. He completely forgot that he had turned the stove up to high to get the hot chocolate heated. Lumps of melted chocolate stuck to the bottom of the pot and the milk that was in it was tinted dark from being overheated. As upsetting as it was that your drink was ruined - it came as no surprise. "This was not my fault! You distracted me."
Your mouth fell open in shock. Your fault? As if. "Look at that you've ruined Christmas, Dick," you joked. Dick set the pot back on the counter and reached his arms out to grab you. Thankfully, you expected him to pull this kind of move and ran out of the way just in time. You stood on the opposite side of the tiny island as him.
In one swift move, Dick leaped over the counter and captured you with ease. Your laughs echoed through the apartment. They stopped when Dick's playing ended and he pecked your lips.
"Don't worry babe, I know how to save our Christmas."
Summary: Damian tries to convince Dick to come to dinner for Christmas. But duty calls and a weird surprise awaits Dick. Do you believe in Santa Claus?
Warning: No pairing. Just a family Christmas-themed OS.
Author’s note: This would certainly be the last Bat-Christmas one shot. I decided not to make it a Dick x Reader (though it was initially the plan) because I wanted to give Dick and Damian the chance to reconnect. Hope you will like it.
Blüdhaven was never quiet. Blüdhaven was always restless. Lively. Noisy. Blüdhaven was like him. In shades of jet-black and neon-blue. Shining. Glowing. Like a beacon by the ocean.
But tonight, Blüdhaven was not blue. Blüdhaven was red. Blüdhaven was green. Blüdhaven was yellow. Blüdhaven was merry. Blüdhaven was childish. Blüdhaven was a little boy waiting for his gift in a small circus trailer, counting days and eating chocolate. Blüdhaven was getting ready for Christmas.
But Dick Grayson was not.
“You know Father still insists that you come celebrate Christmas with us at the manor this year.” Slumped on the chimney, feet hanging and swinging in the air, Damian Wayne was playing with a birdarang like a bored child waiting for action, demonstrating nonchalance and casualness that could have almost seemed natural and sincere if it hadn’t been for his little green eyes peeping at his brother’s every reactions. “I still have to think about it, Damian.”
Damian clicked his tongue and crossed his arms over his chest to sulk in silence. “Todd said he was coming.” Dick snickered at the boy’s remark – which sounded more like a reproach - finding certain amusement in seeing Damian’s childish disappointment. “So who are you going to spend Christmas with? The poor waitress you used to date?” Those last few words were enough to erase the smile on Dick’s face.
“Bea and I are over, Damian. I told you, didn’t I?” Damian shrugged and jumped from his perch to come and kneel by his brother by the edge of the rooftop they were on. “She wasn’t good enough for you, anyway.” And that was a lame attempt at comforting by Damian Wayne, ladies and gents.
“Well, if I listen to you, Damian, no one is ever good enough for me. You said the same thing about Shawn when we broke up.”
“Shawn? Oh right the mediocre artist/ villain you thought you had got pregnant. Almost forgot about her. What a lousy list of conquests you have under your belt, Grayson.” Dick’s jaw clenched to prevent any hurtful commentary to come out of his mouth. There was no point in debating with Damian in that situation. Dick knew well than to take his words seriously. After all, they were just part of a clumsy technique to attract attention, not ill intentioned at all and not to be taken seriously.
Police sirens suddenly screamed in the avenue under their feet, flickering blue and red. A code of alert. A perfect way to escape Damian. “Got to go.” And without any other word, Dick leaped over the edge of the building, grapple gun in hand, ignoring his little brother yelling at him “See you next Thursday at 6.” and his classic “Grayson, you fool.” when he didn’t get an answer.
Dick wasn’t a huge fan of car chases. Though appearing as simple and routine at first sight, he found them to be the most dangerous and scariest of a superhero’s everyday (or night) missions. They needed an extreme vigilance that was hard to fully have: requiring his attention to be sharp and focused on both the criminals and the police as well as the road and especially any citizen who were unfortunate enough to be on the way. But full vigilance didn’t mean no light-hearted commentary.
“Where are you guys going with an organ recovery vehicle? The hospital is the other way. Might wanna update the GPS and reconsider the music. Last Christmas I stole you your heart would be more fitting for organs traffickers”
“Nightwing!” The driver exclaimed as his partner in crime pulled his gun from his holster to shoot him. “Yeah that’s me. And you might wanna give me that.” Dick said as he quickly seized the gun to throw it through the car window. “Now pull over before Santa hears about what bad boys you two have been this year.”
“Screw you, punk!”
“As you wish.” Dick rolled his eyes, acting dramatically annoyed, and grabbed the wheel, taking the two men by surprise. “What are you doing?” They asked, screaming at him.
“Checking the airbags.” He declared as he voluntarily led the speeding car towards a barricaded construction site knowing perfectly that there were no workers in there tonight. ”Hang on.”
The car hit the metal fence, bending it as if it was a mere piece of paper. Then it left the ground and flew right towards a hole of fresh concrete. When it landed, all the bodywork crashed like a can of tomato soup and the windows broke, leaving the two criminals screaming in fear. But their yells were brief, chocked by the airbags that suddenly inflated due to the powerful noisy impact.
“Airbags, check. MOT test, over. You may get down of the vehicle gentlemen.” Nightwing said as he opened the door. But the two men were so stunned and terrified they couldn’t move. “Or you can wait here. That’s fine as well.”
The police car who had been chasing the two men suddenly parked on the site and a couple of officers ran to the accident car, guns in hands. Among them Detective Elise Svobada, Nightwing’s own Jim Gordon except that Jim Gordon had never kissed Batman. A memory that still made Dick want to puke. “Good job, tights.”
“A compliment? Christmas makes you soft, Svoboda.” Dick smirked as he let the woman pushed the driver out of the car. “Don’t get used to it.”
“Detective, the heart must be delivered in less than 15 minutes. We won’t be there on time. Not with this traffic.” Svoboda’s partner declared, panicking and trembling like a Chihuahua.
“Damn it!” Svoboda kicked the tire of the car, angry and wondering what to do now. “Nightwing, do you think you can…” But there was no need to finish the sentence as the vigilante was already far away, swinging from building to building, the box containing the precious organ in his hand. “Thanks, kid… Nelson, call the hospital. Tell them there’s a special delivery.”
There’s nothing more gratifying than knowing you saved a life, except maybe knowing that you saved a life on Christmas. Makes you feel like some heroic caped Santa Claus in a way.
But Dick never chose to become a vigilante for gratification or fame. He never wished for a thank you or some sort of admiration. Dick chose to become a vigilante to help people, to see the smiles on their face, that glimmer of hope shining in their eyes when they thought all hope was gone. Dick chose to become a vigilante to make the world a better place.
“That girl owes you her life.” The white-bearded doctor said as he shook Dick’s hand with a gratitude that was making the happy tears in his eyes sparkle like stars. “She doesn’t owe me anything.” And no one could doubt his sincerity. “Still what you did was very noble, boy. Thanks to you this young lady will be able to spend Christmas with her loved ones. And I hope you will as well. After all there’s nothing more important than family.”
“We’ll see about that. Merry Christmas, Doctor.” He said as he headed towards the exit.
“Merry Christmas, Richard.”
Dick froze and quickly turned around, wondering if he had heard right or if it was his fatigue playing tricks on him. But the old doctor was already gone and nowhere to be seen. Did he know the Batman’s disappearance act, too? “You really need to sleep, Nightwing.”
“Indeed you look awful.” The nonchalant voice of Damian Wayne suddenly made Nightwing jump. That little demon could be so stealthy sometimes. “Would not want you to look like a walking dead at dinner. We already have Todd for that.”
“How did you find me?”
“Heard the police radio. No need to be a genius to do so.” He clicked his tongue as he crossed his tiny arms over his small chest. “So you saved the mayor’s daughter. Congratulations. What now?”
“The mayor’s daughter?”
“Yes. The two criminals wanted to use her as a way to corrupt the mayor.” Dick frowned. “What? Did you really think there was some sort of organs trafficking in Blüdhaven? Hello! It’s Blüdhaven not Gotham! You know the place where you’re expected on Thursday.” Dick laughed and tousled his little brother’s hair to annoy him. “Alright, little guy. I’ll be there.”
“Thank you.” Damian sighed deeply.
“Don’t thank me. Thank Santa.” Dick corrected him, still thinking about that weird old doctor.
“Don’t try to choke with some cheesy Christmas spirit.” Damian declared as he pointed his fingers at Dick who were chuckling. “Alright.” He complied, gently grabbing Damian by the arm. “Wanna go drink some hot cocoa at my place?”
“Are you sweet-talking me?” Damian glared at his brother, not really knowing how to take the offer. “Maybe.”
“Would there be marshmallows in the cup?” Dick grinned and hugged his brother. “Of course.”
A/N: happy fourth of July, or as I like to call it, fireworks day :) this was not edited, so please excuse any mistakes
Summer nights in Gotham had a certain atmosphere, as if the city was holding its breath until morning came. Holidays made the tension immeasurably worse. When Dick arrived at your apartment just before 8 o’clock, you were surprised to say the least. The fact that he’d come at all - and on one of the most crime-filled nights of the year, nonetheless - caught you off-guard. His proposition only increased your uncertainty.
“B’s got the rest of ‘em patrolling tonight,” he explained briefly.
You furrowed your eyebrows. “What about Bludhaven?” Dick waved you off, simply grabbing your jean jacket from the closet and snagging your keys. Out front of your apartment sat the blue motorcycle. The subtle bat logo stuck on the fender flashed in the streetlight as you took the helmet from Dick. Safety first was the only condition Bruce had for allowing you on the bike. If anything happened to you, he didn’t think he could forgive himself. You were practically a daughter to him, and the only reason you weren’t officially part of the family was because Dick was too chicken to man up and ask you out.
Not that you minded. You had a good thing going, you and Dick, and you didn’t want to risk that with unrequited feelings. And why bother ruining something that was perfect?
No matter how many times you approached, Wayne Manor always took your breath away. The beautiful architecture was unparalleled to anything else in Gotham, and your creator’s heart skipped a beat at the newly beautified gardens. Dick had taken it upon himself to give Alfred a garden the old man always dreamed of. One of the many reasons you found yourself irrevocably in love with the little orphan boy you watched grow into a man. He lit up fireworks in your heart, and you were unable to do anything about it.
Dick kicked down the stand of his motorcycle after killing the engine and pulled his helmet off. Shaking out his hair as he got off the bike, you were caught in a trance, mesmerized by his effortlessly handsome appearance. He held out a hand to help you off the bike, steadying you by the waist as you stumbled a bit on the concrete. “C’mon, thought of a great spot this year.” Rather than leading you around the manor to the backyard gazebo, Dick walked you right up the steps and through the front door. You were surprised to say the least. Normally, you and his family sat on pillows around the fire pit as you watched the fireworks. You figured Dick had planned to keep the tradition, despite his family’s glaringly obvious absence.
Ever one for secretiveness, Dick covered your eyes and led you through the mansion. “Watch your step,” he mumbled over and over, seconds before your would-be meetings with the floor. “Stairs.” Not a moment later did you feel the first step against your toe. It only took seven uncertain foot placements for Dick to groan and throw you over his shoulder.
“Hey,” you protested. “Put me down, idiot.”
“You’re going too slow. We’re going to miss the show.” You were now able to see that you were on the staircase leading to the highest peak of the house.
“Yeah, well maybe if you hadn’t covered my eyes, we would be there already.” Dick snorted, dropping you to your feet at the top of the stairs. He led you down a side hall with a window at the end. Shoving the window up, Dick expertly popped the screen out of place and dropped out the window.
“Dick!” You ran forward, a spike of fear flashing through you, only to see him comfortably crouched on the peak of the lower roof.
He jerked his head, waving for you to follow. “I’ll catch you. Promise.” And he did. If you didn’t trust him so much, you wouldn’t have jumped in the first place, but knowing he spent hours of his life jumping from rooftops and balconies in the city reassured you in the oddest sense.
You got comfy just as the fireworks started. Hosted and paid for by Wayne Enterprises, the fireworks shot off from South Channel Island over the Queen River. The perfect view from the manor.
The reds and oranges lighting up the sky sparkled against the stars, and the echoing bangs ricocheted over the Palisades to your spot on the roof. Sighing, you leaned into Dick’s side, resting your head on his shoulder. His arm found its way around your shoulders, and you scooched closer, savoring his warmth against the chilly night breeze.
The two of you rested in the peacefulness of the night, eyes glowing with every burst of light. Unconsciously, you started humming “Firework” by Katy Perry, and unbeknownst to you, Dick saw that as the perfect opportunity. He pulled away from you suddenly, and you sat up, startled.
You asked, “What is it?” Dick smiled softly, his eyes reflecting the sky’s bright colors in the most magnificent way. His thumb brushed over your cheek softly, and your breath caught in your throat. Eyes dropping to your lips, Dick leaned in ever so slightly. It drove you insane, wanting him to make the first move but seeing every bit of his hesitation. His realization that he had already potentially ruined everything between you won over, and he smashed his lips into yours. Again, fireworks shot into the sky, matching the ecstasy exploding in your heart.
The kiss was rough and gentle, soft and hungry. It pushed every logical thought from your mind, and you were ensnared in a net of overwhelming happiness and contentment. Dick’s hands held your face impossibly close as your fingers clung to his shirt. You never wanted to part, the moment too precious, too long-awaited, to let slip through your fingers. When you ran out of air, Dick pulled back, just barely, letting your lips brush and your foreheads pressed together.
“That was…”
“Incredible?”
“I was going to say exhilarating.”
You laughed. “That works too.”
Dick kissed you once more, briefly, and said, “Happy fourth, Y/n/n.” You pressed a kiss to his cheek before snuggling back into his side.
“Happy fourth, Dickie.”
In the sky, fireworks continued to light up the night, shimmering and sparkling, a reflection of every emotion you felt in that moment.
