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idyllcy · 10 months

Text

don't miss me

word count: 9.4k

warnings: smut, nsfw

summary: it's you. It's been you, and it'll be you.

"uWAHHHHH!!" You sob, slamming your head into your hands.

"You have got to stop confessing to people who don't like you." Dick grumbles, sliding you the box of tissues on the table. "He's made it pretty clear that he has no interest."

"I'm bound to get to him at some point." You sit up, blowing your nose. "Come on."

"He's the school's hotshot."

"And you're captain of the varsity football team," You cough. "If I can tutor you and become friends with you, then the captain of the baseball team should be no big deal."

It's a strange place to find himself in. Dick had gone to you for help in one of his classes in exchange for enough money to fund your four years of college, and in exchange, you had taught him everything he needed for his classes. He went from risking the chance to stay on the team to having the best grade out of all of his teammates. He's thankful for you, he supposes, and he's the school's most wanted boy. He has more than enough of a fan club behind him.

He wonders why he was put in a public school instead of the private ones his brothers were put into. It wasn't as if Bruce lacked the money to put him into one.

"ANYWAY!" You toss the tissue into the trash behind you, stand up, and throw your fists in the air. "I will continue to confess!"

"Why not just go out with me?"

You pout at him, batting your lashes. "And potentially end up on a good chunk of the school's hit list? No thank you, Richard."

"Dick. Come on, it's not that bad."

You shrug, going back to the papers in your binder. "I'm not into you."

"We spend so much time together. We're bound to end up together, you know?"

"If you pull a psychology term on me I will punt you."

"You don't have the strength for that."

"I'll kill myself to change the trajectory of your life forever."

"That'd be very flattering for you to do."

"Ew."

But in the small classroom walls that confine the two of you, there's not much for the two of you to argue over. It's just a tutor-tutee relationship. There's nothing more. You don't understand why you rant out all of your frustrations to him when he has nothing to do with them, but you suppose it's not that much. Maybe it was silly to think that he would care. He probably doesn't. Dick was never your friend by choice, after all. It would be foolish to believe that he could care about you at all.

"I like you!" You yell from the bleachers, blowing a kiss, the rest of the school screaming along. The baseball captain shoots down your confession with a flick of his hand, and you pout.

It's fun to waste your youth pining over someone who doesn't love you back. It's not as if it mattered either. You would all scramble once you finished high school. Graduation was just around the corner. It didn't matter if he didn't like you back. It was so much funnier when they didn't.

You hear a chorus of screaming behind you, causing you to glance, just for a moment, at the reason for the screams.

"Oh, look who showed up." You smile. "Miss me already? Our session isn't until Wednesday."

"Don't flatter yourself." Dick's hands guide you to sit back down, standing next to you. "I came to scout out my competition."

"I thought you were still in that friends with benefits thing with Kori." You raise a brow at him.

"Broke it a while back." He hums. "How do you find this interesting?"

"I don't." You hum. "I'm here because he's here." You point at the baseball captain. "Obviously."

Dick clicks his tongue disdainfully. "I come all the way for you and you tell me that you're here for him?"

"I was here first, Dick." You wave happily as the captain stares at you. "I've been here."

"Well, I've come now. Let's get you home."

"I want to watch him finish his game."

"Why him and not me?"

You tilt your head at him. "No reason. I just think the baseball captain's hotter."

"Hotter than me?"

"Yes. Hotter than you."

"Did he reject you?"

"He waved down my kiss."

"I wouldn't do that to you."

"Yeah, but I don't want you."

It's funny. Dick hears all about how you got rejected again in the most delusional way possible, from the way of "oh he breathes the same air as me so surely he's in love with me" to something more mellow like "yeah I got rejected again lol". But that was something he got used to, he supposes. The empty classroom that the two of you always sat in but never got yelled at for was a staple in his life, especially when more than half of the time he was showing up to class with bruises all over his body. Maybe fighting crime at night wasn't something he should promise to do so often. Bruce would let him focus on school if he asked. Maybe.

"You look like shit as always," You click your tongue, raising a brow at the sight of Robin coughing up blood on your balcony.

"Sorry, pretty girl," He chuckles. "Bumped into someone awful today, as you can see. Care to lend me a hand?"

"The joker? The riddler? I don't even know who you fight anymore." You haul him onto the couch, pulling the curtains behind you. "How deep is it?"

"A little wrapping will do the trick." He mumbles. "Sorry for the problem."

"You're here more than I can count on one finger." You sigh. "I'm used to it. Where's Batman?"

"He went back."

"And left you alone?"

"Yes." Robin hisses as you press the alcohol to his wound. "I'm sorry, again."

"It doesn't matter. I was up, anyway." You pause. "How long have you been fighting crime again?"

"I don't know."

"Mm." Silence. "You should rebrand soon. I heard there are two Robins now."

"I'm close." He chuckles, lifting his shirt so you can wrap the bandage around his waist. "What do you think about Nightwing?"

You grumble. "Superman said something about that the other day in his interview. I stayed up all night drawing what I think his suit would look like."

"Can I see it?"

"If you want."

"You're graduating, right? Where are you going after?"

"New York City." You mumble. "Haven't told anyone yet, but I got into my dream school. I'm set."

"Really?"

"Yeah." You mumble. "I'm moving over summer, so don't crash here anymore unless you want to give my parents a heart attack, alright?"

"I'll miss you."

"That's cute. I can't imagine the number of people who would die to hear that from Robin from Teen Titans himself."

"I will."

You stare up at him. Maybe it was strange. It had been three years since Robin would crash land onto your balcony in the city and beg you for first aid. It had been two years since Dick Grayson had asked you for help in math, and even shorter than the time you had started designing suits for him to look at. Maybe that's why you had grown used to the way he would rest his chin on your shoulder and stare through the lazy sketches you had of what you thought he should change his outfit into. He likes the way you picture Nightwing. He's like some disco guy in the first draft and much more chill in the second.

"Can I take the pages?" He mumbles. "Please? I want it."

"So you can steal my design?"

"No. I like the disco suit you drew."

"That was a first draft." You groan.

"I can start with it."

"It's too flashy! It doesn't fit the whole Batman aesthetic!"

"Doesn't matter." He grins. "It looks like my current Robin one but in blue."

You raise a brow at him incredulously.

"I'll buy these off of you."

"With your legal account?"

"I'll send you money each month anonymously like a patent. Wait. I can't see you anymore."

"Yeah." You exhale. "You can take it, though. I can't let anyone know I've been drawing Robin's clothes. I would get targeted by too many villains."

"That's true." Robin pauses. "Has anyone seen it?"

"No."

"Can I take all of them?"

"How are you going to get all of them to Batman?"

"I'll figure out a way." He grins. "I am Robin, after all."

"Well, then, Robin," You rustle the papers, dropping them in his open hands. "I hope you keep all of them."

"I'll pin them in my room's wall."

"That's just creepy."

"Maybe to you."

Dick never expected you to let him in three years ago, in his defense. He expected you to cower in fear like the rest of people or even just slide him a first aid kit. He was not expecting you to drag him into your room and start disinfecting his wound. He learned so much more about who you were through his interactions with you as Robin than he did as Dick. All he hears from you during the day is how you got rejected by the captain of the baseball team again. He wonders if he should just woo you as Robin instead. You seem to like his separate identity more.

"You forgot the number in front of the integral."

"No way." He grumbles.

"Yeah." You point. "Minor mistakes. It'll be fixed with some practice. I'm sure."

"When are we stopping this?"

"Eager to get me out of your hair already? After senior finals, of course."

"Are you going to keep confessing to captain until then?"

"Why?"

"I'm suggesting you give me a chance, of course." Dick stares at you.

"There you go again with that," You yawn. "Are you sure it's not because I'm your type? Scratch that. I don't even think I'm your type."

"And if you were?"

"That would be very interesting considering your dating history." You grimace.

Dick grumbles in response. He didn't have something for that one.

It's ironic to think that someone else in the school would die to date the man in front of you. You wonder why you don't like him sometimes. You're sure he's someone straight out of a movie, a guy who everyone would want to be with at least once in their life. He almost reminds you of the other football boys on his team. Maybe this was a movie. The jock ends up with his tutor. Some sort of cliché love story that you would never touch, ever again.

Robin crash lands on your balcony again before you can think more of it.

"Sorry!"

"What brings you here today? Ivy?"

"Yeah! How'd you know?" He sits up, a grin on his face.

"You smell like herbs all over you." You grimace.

"Woah, sharp nose." Robin mumbles. "Can you ramble about your high school to me?"

"Oh. You wanna hear about how I have a crush on the captain of the football team? The guy I tutor?"

"yOU WHAT? I THOUGHT YOU SAID YOU LIKED THE BASEBALL GUY." Robin gasps, jaw dropped in shock.

"I changed my mind." You hum, fishing out the disinfectant from the first aid kit. "I won't admit it to his face, of course, but I think he's kind of fine. That man is infuratingly attractive. Who gave him his bone structure? He looks like a greek statue or something. I want him carnally."

"Are you going to ask him out?"

"And do long distance in this day and age?" You laugh. "No. I'm going to keep pretending that I like the baseball captain until the end of graduation. I'd like to be remembered as a fool. Besides, I don't think Dick actually likes me that way. I heard something about him and Kori in the halls and I don't want to be part of that. I heard he slept with a good chunk of the girls sports team captains too. I don't know. I'd prefer not to know. All I know is that I don't want to be part of that mess."

Robin peels his shirt up, pouting. "I thought you said confessing was the best form of closure."

"Not when dating your crush is going to get half of the school on your back. I've lived without being in the spotlight for long enough. I plan on doing that after school." You press the gauze to his wound, causing him to hiss. "You good?"

"Hurts."

"I'm sure it does." You deadpan.

"Why not tell him?"

"You seem very invested in my love life with this dude."

"I'm bored. I keep getting beat up these days, so I have to listen to something to get it off my mind." Robin pouts as you wrap the bandage around his waist.

"Did you gain more muscle?"

"Does it look that way?"

"A little." You raise a brow.

"I work out more in my free time."

"You know, maybe I like the stupid football guy because he reminds me of you too much."

"You like me?"

"I thought you were a good detective."

"I am."

"And you didn't know?"

"I didn't want to point it out." He mumbles. "Maybe you'd get uncomfortable."

"Alright." You yawn, closing the first aid kit. "This is one of the last times you're crashing. ever."

"Why?"

"I go on vacation in a couple weeks and I'm going to start packing for moving. You aren't going to be able to see me in a long time."

"Can I get a goodbye kiss?" He pouts.

"You're a nightmare, Robin," You help him stand up, pressing your lips to his cheek. "I hope I see you as Nightwing one day."

"I can promise you that."

You wonder some days if you should just tell Dick that you have a crush on him. You call him his government for shits and giggles, and you barely pay enough attention to what he does in tutoring these days. Maybe you were just destined to be stuck with someone like him. Yet, even as graduation approaches, you find there's no use sticking close to those ideas. You'll never see him again. It's pointless to admit your crush now.

"So? What's your answer?"

"I'm still in love with the baseball guy," You sigh blissfully, eyes far away. "He's so... dreamy."

"The only difference between the two of us is that I have better grades." Dick raises his brow.

"Richard." You yawn. "I could fix him."

"You absolutely could not."

"You're right. I could not." You laugh. "Isn't it fun being delusional? I think it's great."

"It is absolutely not."

"Maybe to you, Richard." You yawn. "I find it quite amusing to daydream about myself with a person who would never look at me twice."

"If you ask me." He clicks his tongue. "I'd say he thinks about you a lot more now."

"Oh, really?" You tilt your head. "I still don't find myself believing that fact."

"It's hard to think about it." He grimaces. "He asked me for your number the other day."

"Did you give it to him?"

"You said to ask first. I forgot to ask."

"Are you sure you forgot?"

"I didn't give it to him on purpose." He grins.

"Sly, sly, boy." You chuckle. "Oh, right. I forgot to give you the worksheets."

"I was hoping you wouldn't notice."

"Too bad." You rummage through your bag, handing him a stack of papers. "I'll see you after school."

"You expect me to do this during practice?"

"You're off-season. You barely train." You stand up, dusting off your hands. "Have fun."

Dick glances at the papers. "Wait-"

The door clicks behind you, and Dick sits there, staring at the stack of papers.

Dick lets his curiosity get the best of him, flipping through the pages, reading through your sketches and messy notes. It's neat, uncrumpled, to the point. The drawings are messy, but each part of his suit as Robin has been noted down. His weapons have been detailed, and he wonders if you had been doing more than just checking out his gadgets whenever he crashed your apartment. Maybe you were carefully calculating everything just as you had with his math homework. Perhaps he would get separated from you years later and never see you again.

He finds himself at your final period of the day, knocking on the door.

"Come in."

"Ah, Mrs. Baker," He smiles. "My tutor left this during lunch, so I came to hand it back to her."

You stare at Dick, getting out of your seat to take the papers from him with the actual packet in your other hand. "My apologies. I will see you after school."

A girl in the class faints while the others scream.

You sit back in your seat, staring at the note he left in your stack.

There was no point in caring for things that would inevitably pass.

So, neither of you mention anything ever again. The tutoring goes on as normal, the confessions do as well. There's something consistently hanging in the air between the two of you that neither addresses. The elephant in the room is neither seen nor discussed. The stories of your youth no longer matter to you, and you graduate top of the class, valedictorian, going to the school of your choice. It didn't matter that you had just stopped pining after the baseball captain one day. No one would know why. Maybe. Except Dick.

Dick learns to move on with life, slowly. You sit in the back of his mind when he's bored while on patrol, staring down at the city, wondering if you had ever considered him to even be an option. But he finds no space in thinking about you. He had his own job. The two of you had grown up, maybe you before him. The two of you were just. High school friends. Maybe not even friends. He thinks about your signature in his yearbook often. Maybe he would find you one day. It would come slower. Maybe.

But he leaves your mind as quickly as he had been there, left behind with Gotham when you had stepped foot into your dream school. You find your success in life as easily as you had executed whatever plan it had been in high school. You're quickly where you want to be in life, top of the city, sipping margaritas with your friends when you grow bored. It's something that someone has dreamed of, and it's something that you have considered. Maybe you would consider staying where you are longer had it not been for the obscenely high crime rate lately.

"I heard Jessica got mugged the other weekend." One of your friends sighs. "Are you feeling better?"

"I am." Jessica mumbles. "Oh, but there was this super hot hero who saved me! I tried asking for his name, but he never told me. Black suit, blue bird thing on his chest. He was so... dreamy!"

"Jessica, darling," Another woman chimes in. "I'm sure you've gone delusional. New York City does not have people saving them. Our crime rate is just a nightmare in itself."

"Was it Nightwing? You know, the... superhero?" You furrow your brows. "I think that's what he is."

"Is that his name?!" She gushes. "He's sooo romantic!"

"Jessica, aren't you engaged?"

"Awh, it's not as if I'd ever get a chance with him."

You chuckle. "Did he look good?"

"So good. God. His black hair? I thought I was going to lose my mind."

"Darling," A woman reaches their hand for yours. "How do you know about Nightwing?"

"I read Gotham Daily for fun." You smile. "It's good to keep up with what's been going on in my home city."

"Right! Then surely you know Nightwing?"

"Know is a little bit of an overstatement." You grimace. "I don't know him personally. I know about him."

"Oh, well." Jessica chuckles. "I'm sure you'll get to know him so much more soon."

"What."

"He asked if I knew anyone by your name, so I told him your add-"

"You gave my house address to a random man who saved you?!" You yell. "That's stupid!"

"He was asking for you!"

"Why?"

"I don't know." Jessica holds back a laugh. "I told him your studio address."

"At least it wasn't my house address," You mumble. "But I'm holed up in that hellhole when I get bored, so I suppose it's the equivalent of giving him my house address."

"He's got real defined muscles-"

"Okay, Jessica, I think that's enough for the night. I'll call your fiancé for you."

"Ugh. He's so fine."

"We get it, darling."

You help her into her fiancé's car, watching as the two of them drive away. The other ladies all head off, and you stand there in the night. It's not half as cold as you're expecting it to be, but you suppose being alone at night is a little lonely. You purse your lips, clicking on your phone to call an Uber to your studio. You didn't feel like staying home. Maybe sketching your frustrations out in the studio would do something better.

"Alone at night, sweetheart?"

You turn to face the voice.

"...Nightwing?"

He's in the second design.

"Miss me?"

"I don't know, actually." You mumble. "I was just feeling a little betrayed that Jessica just gave you my address like that."

"I checked it out. It's a nice little studio. Are you still up to big things?"

You shrug. "I bet you read the magazines about me."

"I do." He chuckles. "I have your sketches pinned on my walls still, even when I moved." He leans in, breath tickling your ear. "Shall I take you home?"

"To the studio, if you will."

"Hold on tight." He wraps an arm around your waist, launching the grappling hook. "I don't remember if you've ever flown with me."

"I have not." You cling onto him, grimacing. "Please do not drop me. You aren't Spiderman."

"Should I be offended that you're comparing me to a fictional superhero?"

"I'm going to die if you do."

"We're here." He lands on the rooftop.

"Why the sudden move?"

"Am I not allowed to follow my favorite designer to the ends of the earth?"

"Yeah. It's a little creepy, honestly." You scrunch your nose. "Did something go wrong with your suit?"

"No." He mumbles. "Maybe. I don't know."

You raise a brow at him.

"Nothing went wrong. I just missed you."

"Missed me or having a place to patch up that wasn't Batman?"

"Both." He mumbles. "Can I see your designs?"

"So you can steal them?"

"Not fair. You're the one who let me steal them." Nightwing pouts. "I still have them on my wall, if you want to visit my place."

"That's a little too early." You imitate his pout, leaning back, his arm still around your waist. "Don't you think?"

"For someone who's caught you naked when you were in high school, I don't think so." He hums, hand leaving your waist. "Will you show me around?"

"Since you asked so nicely."

It's strange to see him again after so many years. You were sure that Robin — Nightwing — would come to forget you at some point. You had heard more stories about how he had been such a great protector of the city at dark alongside Batman, so you suppose that inevitably he probably had found someone on the way. You heard he had a thing with Batgirl at some point. You wonder why he didn't stay with her. The newspapers were just as shocked as you were when they found out they broke up.

"I heard you had a thing for redheads." You hum, opening the door on the rooftop. "You know. With the whole dating thing on the magazines."

"I suppose I am weak to them." He follows you down the stairs, pausing when you fish out a key and open the door. "Jealou-"

You cut him off. "Welcome to my studio."

"Are those superhero suits?"

"I was trying to figure out what fabrics would work to avoid acid burns." You shrug. "Old habits. I was thinking of visiting Gotham a little later and I was worried I'd get caught up in another attack."

"You'll be fine. Robin is surprisingly competent."

"Are you guys like one big family or something?"

"No." You catch the way he pauses in inhaling. "Nope."

"Sure." You yawn. "I'm crashing. Please be gone by morning."

"Aw, you don't want to see me?"

"I can't tailor anything for you. Go to bed."

"Superheros don't sleep."

"You're human. Night." You close the door to the bed in the studio, and Nightwing looks around at the papers scattered on the floor. New York could survive a day without him.

You wake up the next morning to Nightwing still in your studio, staring at the sketches on the floor.

"Did you end up giving this one to Kid Flash?"

"There's no use. He's dead." You yawn, opening your laptop.

"Didn't need to remind me like that."

"Nightwing. Don't you have a home to go to?"

"I'm exhausted, true." He yawns. "You're contagious."

"Whatever helps you sleep." You grumble. "Stupid emails. Go home."

"And if I want to stay?"

"I'll peel your mask off." You sigh. "Now go."

"Can I crash some other time?"

"If you can find my apartment."

"Shall I bet on it, sweetheart?"

You tilt your head at him, raising a brow. "Be my guest."

Sometime between where you are now and where you had left Dick, he had caught up. Maybe it had been a chase he was doing unconsciously. Maybe he missed the way you would patch him up in your apartment at night no matter how late he found himself in your room. Maybe he missed the way you would take him out for dinner if he did well on a test. Maybe he just missed you. He finds himself staring at you in the grocery store, lips parted in mild surprise. He wasn't expecting to run into you here. He thought you'd stay holed up in your studio for the day.

"...Richard?"

"Dick." He corrects.

"It is you!" You mumble. "What are you doing in New York? I thought you were working for law enforcement at Gotham."

"Change of plans, change of place." It wasn't exactly a lie. He needed to leave that place. He doesn't know why he picked your city of all places, though. "You?"

"I've been here."

"I suppose." he hums. "Is it nice here?"

"Safer than Gotham." You laugh dryly. "I can't believe Nightwing left that place."

"Why?"

You turn to stare at him. "I figured he'd want to stay close to Batman."

"The first always wants to leave and explore." Dick smiles.

"A psychology fact or just something small?"

"An observation not proven by experiments." He hums. "Why are you here?"

"Low on oat milk." You mumble, reaching for the fridge door.

"You're really living that New York City life, huh?"

"Maybe."

"Do you miss Gotham?"

"Never." You pause. "I only miss it because someone used to crash my place."

"Someone?"

"Secret." You smile at him. "Have fun in New York."

"If you don't mind." He mumbles. "Can we exchange numbers again?"

"I never changed my old one."

It never struck Dick that maybe you would keep your old number. You had no reason to keep it, after all. Yet, as he clicks open a conversation that he hadn't touched in years but still kept, he wonders if the two of you had just stopped in time. Maybe he had just chosen you from the start. It wasn't as if his high school life was conventional. The popularity at school meant nothing to him in retrospect.

So, he finds himself staring at the ice cream aisle for a little too long, staring at your favorite flavor an uncomfortable amount of time. Maybe it would be his housewarming gift for you as someone crashing into your room. He should go home soon, he supposes. The sun was setting quickly, and he had to do nightly patrol.

He wonders if he'll just crash into your apartment out of instinct.

So, after a quick clean-up and call to the police, he finds himself landing on a random balcony. He could be wrong. He was sure this could just be some complete stranger's balcony, but it could also be right. He had a feeling that you were inside, as he always did. He finds a strange sense of deja vu, especially as Nightwing. He wanted to pay you a visit on the first day in your super-suit, but you had taped the notice that you were already gone.

"I'm surprised you actually found this place." You tilt your head at him as you open the door. "Come in."

"Weird sense of deja vu, no?"

"Almost." You yawn, noticing a bag in his hand. "What's that?"

"Housewarming."

"I don't recall telling you my favorite ice cream flavor, ever."

"Lucky guess."

"Sure, hero." You hum. "I'm too tired to be a good host, so do what you want."

"Could you wrap me up? That's all I want."

"You're hurt?"

"It's not easy out on these streets."

"Better be no cuts."

"Just a handful of bruises."

"I'll get the ice." You sigh. "Why do you always come at the most unconventional times of day."

"Maybe I just like you when you're half drunk on sleep depravity, pretty girl."

"I'm going to punch you." You grumble, activating the ice pack from your first aid kid, and throwing it at him. Nightwing fails to notice the way your ears burn from the nickname.

"Is it just one bedroom?"

"Did you think I lived in a penthouse?"

"Kind of."

"I live alone. There's no need." You blink. "Knock yourself out. I'll be in bed."

"Sweetheart."

"Yes?"

"Have you ever considered me to be a man?"

"As in jump me? No." You hum. "I have security cameras in all four corners of the room. If you did, I would have the evidence to prove you as some creepy guy in my house."

"Even if I'm Nightwing?"

"Even if you're Nightwing."

Dick watches as you completely fall asleep in your bed, ignoring the way that he gets up to sit by you, staring at your sleeping form. You were always too vulnerable with the wrong people, maybe. You had handed him all of your designs in a heartbeat, spilling out everything that had ever plagued your mind in a breath. He rests his chin on the plush of your mattress, breathing matching yours, staring at you. He wonders if this was what he had moved to New York for. Crashing your room at the unholy hours of the night and catching up with you. It's a foolish dream of his. You could never love him back at himself, so he resorts to crashing your apartment and asking for patching up as Nightwing instead.

"Pretty girl." He mumbles, sitting up, pressing a kiss to a lock of your hair. "Missed you."

You wake up to Nightwing gone, the balcony door closed, thankfully, and a splitting headache. You wonder if your all-nighters have finally caught up with you. Maybe they have. You're caught between wondering if you should text a friend to bring food for you or just ordering off of some overpriced delivery app in the most overpriced city in the country. You decide against both, falling asleep in your bed covers as your fever rages on. How exhausting.

You wake up to the sound of your doorbell, tugging yourself out of bed, taking your gun with you.

"Who is it?"

"It's me."

You open the door to your apartment, squinting at the man.

"Come back another time. I feel like shit right now." You grumble, reaching to close the door on Dick.

"If you're sick, shouldn't you need someone to take care of you?"

"My secretary can."

"You have a secretary?"

You sniff. "Yeah."

"I heard she's on break from the twitter updates account. Let me in. I promise I won't burn your kitchen down." Dick mumbles.

You frown. "And you're not going to jump me?"

"No."

"Promise?"

"Yes."

"Well, if you do." You mumble, showing him the gun in your other hand. "I have this bad boy."

"You have a gun?"

"You never know who's going to break in." You grumble, opening the door to let him in.

"Do you have groceries?"

"I was at the store yesterday. Make do with what I have. Or something." You blink, pulling the blanket further over yourself. "I feel like I've been struck in half by an axe."

"Go rest up." Dick places a hand on your forehead, resting his forehead on yours. "You're burning."

"I think I know that much." You shuffle back to your bed, laying flat on it.

"Do you have Advil?"

"Tylenol's in the cabinet. Might be expired. I've had it forever."

"It's not." He mumbles, getting a glass of water for you as well. "Come on."

You sit up, swallowing the pills with the water, head still spinning. "Thermometer's in the same cabinet."

Dick presses the infrared thermometer to your head, staring at your temperature. "You're awfully hot."

"Thanks." You grumble. "You haven't said that since high school."

"What do you usually do when sick?"

"I haven't been sick since I moved out." You blink slowly, lying back down. "Don't trash the place."

"I won't."

You pass out.

It's ironic. Dick was in your apartment less than twelve hours ago as Nightwing, and now he was in your apartment cooking you soup that he doesn't remember ever learning the recipe of. He missed this. He missed you. Maybe that was why all those women had looked at him at some point in their relationship and told him that he liked someone else. How pitiful of him. To love someone yet date someone else.

But you recover just as quick. Almost as if you were waiting for him to just enter your apartment and take care of you. It was as if your body just needed him once. You don't know. You wake up to Dick sprawled on your couch and your body all dehydrated. There's a bowl of soup next to you that's still warm, and you start eating it as you take your own temperature. It's day. You don't know if it's the same day or you slept through an entire day, but the sun is out, and you feel a little better.

"Do you want help?" Dick opens one of his eyes to stare at you, and you blink at him.

"I'll be fine. Thank you for staying overnight."

"Of course." He hums.

Nightwing crashes two nights later, tumbling down your fire escape. You clutch the gun in your hand and stare at the balcony.

"Just me, sweetheart."

"What a crash landing." You mumble, opening the window to let him in. "What is it this time? We really shouldn't have that many supervillains here."

"Less, that's true." Nightwing hums. "But I still got a good beating." He laughs.

"You're going to be permanently bruised at this rate." You haul him through the window, sighing. "What do you want this time? More bandages? Gauze? A trip to the ER? My soul?"

"Nope. Just checking to see how my favorite girl is doing."

"Now that's just creepy."

"That is not!"

"Oh, no it definitely is." You sigh.

"Are you feeling better?"

You tilt your head as Nightwing pulls his suit up to show you the bruise. "I had a splitting fever yesterday. I'm better now."

"That's good. You didn't answer when I knocked yesterday."

"So you guessed I was sick?"

"Greatest detective in Gotham, remember?"

"Yeah, but this is New York." You mumble, breaking another ice pack to press to his bruise. "I'm sure there's someone better than you."

"Really?"

"I'm sure of it."

Nightwing swings by your apartment every other night. You don't understand how he has the time for that, but you don't question it or anything else. Too many questions lead to too many thoughts. You try not to think of much when you're hanging out with him every other night.

"At this point, I'm going to become nocturnal." You grumble, hanging off the edge of the couch.

"Just for me?"

You raise a brow. "No."

"Are you still designing?"

"Here's a new sketch." You hand him a random paper from the ones all over the ground, and he stares at it.

"A new design for me?"

"No. Just an alternate outfit."

"Can't you get it sewn up for me?"

"I don't like you that much." You grumble.

Nightwing rests his chin on your shoulder huffing.

Somewhere between the crashing apartments and movie nights, you found yourself tangled in Nightwing's limbs, closer to him than you could have imagined in the past. You wonder if any traces of Robin are there, the bruises and scars littered all over his body. You wonder if he had ever liked you. In the empty nights that you had spent with Robin, you found yourself enamored by him. It was foolish for you to ever develop those feelings, so you wonder if Nightwing can read it off of you. He probably can.

"I can't make it in two days." Nightwing mumbles, adjusting the blanket draped over the two of you.

"Mm," You mumble. "Why not?"

Nightwing goes silent, staring at the screen. "Breach of privacy, don't you think, sweetheart?"

"So now I'm not allowed to hear about what you're doing in your free time?"

"Hero's secret." He rests his hand on your shin, tracing mindless circles on your skin. "You'll forgive me, right? Sweetheart?"

You grumble, looking to the side.

"I'm not going to be patroling that day, anyway."

"Oh, yeah." You mumble. "I'm not home that day either. I'm supposed to help Dick move into his new apartment."

"Cheating on me, pretty girl?"

"I was two timing you guys in high school, sure." You pause. "Speaking of Dick. I don't remember ever giving him my home address. How did he even find me?"

Nightwing taps your shin twice. "You sure you didn't text it to him?"

"I swear I didn't-" You pause when you see a conversation with Dick, sending him your full address. "Strange. I don't remember."

"Are you showing early signs of memory loss?"

"Don't be a dick," You pout. "Maybe I texted him while half delirious."

"I have to go, sweetheart," He mumbles, brushing your hair back and pressing a kiss to the corner of your eye. "The city calls."

"I was thinking about it," You tuck your legs back to your chest, staring at him as he clasps everything back onto his outfit. "We should really stop doing that."

"Doing what?"

"Whatever it is we are doing." You mumble. "The whole... situationship thing."

"Do you not want me anymore?"

"I'd prefer to actually find someone." You adjust the blanket on yourself, clicking to lower the tv volume. "That's not right. I can't date a superhero. I think that's more normal. I don't even know who you are."

Nightwing opens his mouth, closing it when he remembers he can't argue with you on it.

"Does that mean I can't crash anymore?"

"No." You huff. "No more cuddling."

"And if I ask you out?"

"No point." You grumble. "I'd be dating a superhero and not a human."

"I thought you said I was human?"

You pause. "But I don't know who you are. You could be some creepy forty year old for all I know."

"'Kay, now that's just rude, sweetheart. I am not forty."

"Yeah, yeah," You grumble. "Ask me out in your civilian form if you really want me that bad."

"Is that a deal?"

"As long as it isn't out of nowhere."

Nightwing disappears into the city, and you glance at the movie still playing in the background.

Dick thanks you for the help with moving apartments. You wonder how he managed to end up as your neighbor, but as he kicks the remaining boxes into the complex, you don't really complain. You could be sitting in your room drawing something insane for Nightwing right now. Maybe it was a healthy break from the guy you've been falling in love with. You wonder why he didn't just stop seeing you once he found out you liked him.

"You look like you're thinking hard."

"That's definitely not something you know how to do?"

"Ey. I'm not stupid. Remember? I was salutatorian." Dick raises a brow, opening one of the boxes.

"I forgot." You pause. "Wasn't your brother suspended?"

"Yeah. He was quite a handful."

"He was funny," You hum, opening another box. "I found him really amusing."

"Makes you think hard about family dynamics."

"Really does." You hand him decorations to go around the apartment from the floor, and you pause when you see a binder. "What's this?"

"Oh, you weren't supposed to see that." He takes it from your hands, holding it behind himself. "You were not supposed to see that."

You glance at the paper flutter out of the binder, and you reach for it, pausing at the familiarity.

"Did you... where did you get this?"

"I found it at a thrift store." He smiles.

"Thrift stores don't sell old sketches by people drawn during high school for superheros." You deadpan.

"An antique store?"

"Spit it out, Richard." You furrow your brows, pulling your lip up. "Are you Nightwing or did you rob him? I doubt both of them, so your explanation better be convincing."

"I like you."

"what."

"Let's go out."

"Where is this coming from?" You shake your head in confusion.

"Um. Two nights ago?"

You pause. "I didn't see-"

You blink at Dick tuck the paper back into the binder, placing it on the kitchen counter.

"YOU'RE ACTUALLY FUCKING NI-"

"I'd prefer if you kept that revelation to yourself. These walls aren't soundproof."

You gawk at him. "I was wrapping you up every single fucking night at Gotham?"

"Yes?"

You sit there, hands lax, hanging from the box, questioning every single thing you had ever told him up to this point.

"YOU LISTENED TO ME TALK ABOUT HOW INFURIATINGLY HOT I FOUND YOU IN HIGH SCHOOL?!"

"...yes."

You slam your head into your hands, head spinning from the impact and realization. You told Nightwing you found him hot. You told Dick, who had crashed into your room almost every day at Gotham, all about how you thought he was attractive, but there was no point in telling him. You kissed him on the cheek in high school. The more you think about it, the more you question your presence in the room and the more you want to dig a hole and die in it. You were such an embarassment.

"I think I'm going to dig a hole and bury myself." You look up from your hands.

"Please don't do that." Dick mumbles, stepping next to you. "Do you hate me that much? You said you-"

"Yeah." You purse your lips. "Yes. But this is very out of the blue and I need a couple days to process all of this information."

"Your break ends in a couple of days."

"UGH!" You cry, dragging your hands down your face. "I would say yes but oh my god. This is embarassing. So embarassing."

"Yes."

You blink slowly.

"Is that a yes or a no?"

"It's a yes." You answer in a heartbeat. "Please give me a couple days to come to terms with it, though."

"Anything." He mumbles, kissing your forehead.

Dating Dick Grayson is an experience. He's quiet, slow, and he takes his time with you. You find yourself in his apartment more and more despite the ever-sinking knowledge that he's Nightwing. You forget sometimes — only for him to crash through his balcony and roll into your arms. It's worrying now that you're actually dating him. There's a fear that he'd go missing like his brother and maybe even die. The idea that he was returning to the police force wasn't any more comforting.

"Why here?" You mumble, peeling the suit off of his body. "We can go back to Gotham if you really want."

"Why would you move back to Gotham with me?"

"I've been working online for the past year." You sigh. "I never knew when you'd come crash landing into the house during night so I sold my studio. I'm always worried you'll go missing on me one day."

"You're willing to move back with me?"

You heave, picking the mask off of his face.

"Really?"

"Your family is there." You whisper, almost scared as though your voice would give out on you. "Mine is too."

"You'll go back with me?" He holds onto your forearms, eyes sparkling.

"Yeah."

You don't know what prompts you to tell him that at the dead of the night only a month into dating him, but it just felt right. It was strange to believe that you had been so willing to move so quickly despite dating him for such a short time. You weren't even sure if you would be able to last past the three-month mark. Maybe it was a mistake of some sort. To move with Dick so quickly. You don't know how you're supposed to decide so fast.

"Sweetheart, what's wrong?" Dick grabs your wrist, causing you to stop with the wrapping. "You've wrapped four more layers than you usually do."

"Do you think we'll last past the three month mark?" You whisper, almost as if you were asking the wind and not him.

"Yeah." Dick hums, helping you rip the bandage. "It'll be fine."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." He smiles. "I haven't lied to you before, love."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm." He kisses you gently, body warmth grounding you. "I promise."

You tuck the rest of the bandages back into the first aid kit, and Dick pulls you into his lap, peppering kisses over your face and neck. It causes you to giggle, smile erupting on your face as butterflies had when you had fallen for him the first time. The worries melt away as Dick runs his hand up and down your back soothingly. You were lucky. The wait was worth it, you think. He was an angel.

"Let me know when to stop," He mumbles against your lips before going back to making out with you, kisses light on your skin.

You squirm in his lap, his hands holding your hips down, giving you just enough space so that you don't bruise. His tongue slips into your mouth at some point, your eyes going half-lidded, welcoming him with fervor. Dick's hands trace circles on your hip, hands snuck underneath your shirt to tug at your bra, unclasping it with his free hand, lips never leaving yours. Your hands reach down for his shirt, tugging at the fabric, fiddling with the fabric. Dick smiles against your lips, pulling away.

A strand of saliva breaks from your lips as he does. "Struggling, pretty girl?"

"Yeah." You huff, watching as Dick pulls it over his head.

"Pretty baby," He laughs. "Feel better?"

"Yeah," You mumble, leaning down to bite his clavicle. You suck on it gently as Dick traces a hand past your shorts down to your clit, drawing lazy circles on your clit, humming lowly, vibrations traveling straight to your core.

"Pretty girl..." He sighs as you let go of his collar with a pop, sliding a finger from your clit into your cunt, sighing slowly as he slides his finger in further, earning a whimper from your lips. "Feel good?"

"Mhm." You gasp. "Yeah."

"I'm sorry you feel that way, pretty girl." He whispers against your skin. "Want me to help you out?"

"Yes, please," You mumble. "Please, Dick."

"Anything for you, sweetheart." His hands speed up, thumb trying to brush circles on your clit as his index finger curls inside of you. You wonder if he's teasing or if he really doesn't remember where your g spot is — You choke on your own thought as he finds it. "There it is."

Your fingers reach for his chest, nails digging into his pecs as he continues curling his finger, adding another one inside of you. He hisses quietly as your nails dig deep enough to draw blood, a trail of red following the scratch as he continues with his fingers inside of you.

"Pretty girl, on the back please."

"Sorry," You move your hands to his back, yelping as he starts again. You clench on his fingers as he curls them once more, your orgasm ripping through your skin; the sweat wraps your body in a thin sheen of white, reflecting the dim lighting of the apartment. You curl into him, your whole body shaking from the orgasm, lips parted in a silent cry. You blink to try and catch your breath, coughing.

"Sweetheart?"

"I get why you've had so many exes now." You mumble.

"I like you the best." He mumbles, pressing a kiss to the corner of your eye.

"I bet you say that to all of them."

"Only to my favorites." He hums. "Just you."

You look at him doubtfully.

"I promise."

You close your eyes, head ringing. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be."

You move to get rid of your shorts as Dick slides his boxers off, straddling him and sinking down slowly. You stay there to adjust, and wait, mind wandering slowly as Dick starts bouncing you. You keep your voice to yourself, only small whimpers and light gasps slipping past your lips. Your eyes cloud over as your brain goes on autopilot. Dick notices quickly, stopping altogether when you don't seem to respond.

"Babe?"

You stare at him.

"What's wrong?"

"I'll be fine." You smile.

You count with fingers in your mind, from one hand to the next, then back to the original hand, changing so that one counts the fives and the other counts the other single digits, and then the tens and the single digits. You don't know why you're counting them, but it seems like a lot or too little — too little yet too much. Your mind spins gently, slowly, almost as if the thoughts were like murky water, pulling you down slowly, waiting for a moment to drown you wholeheartedly.

"Babe." Dick tries again, calloused fingers brushing over your hip. "Talk to me."

"I thought you were the one who sucked at communication." You blink back slowly, not registering your words. "You know?"

"I usually do, but I learn."

"I suppose you do." You stare at him. "I'm scared."

"Of us?"

"Yeah." You whisper. "It's in the back of my mind constantly. What if you return dead one day like you did to Barbara so many years ago?"

"I wasn't dead-"

"You were shot in the head." You whimper. "You." You go quiet, resting your head in the crook of his neck, closing your eyes. "I've done nothing with you."

"Pretty girl-"

"Your life as Nightwing was in Barb's hands." You start. "The two of you have done so much together. The news went insane when they found out you were engaged to her and set to marry her. I was so ready to see the news of a marriage, and then it seemed that you had just broken the engagement out of nowhere — and then I find out that you moved out of Blüdhaven and disappeared from the very city you poured your whole heart into and find you out here on the streets of New york? What — what kind of madness did I read in the morning newspaper, you, you left the city you fell in love with for the streets of New York?? Do you know how — how preposterous you sounded when you said that? It was as if I had been told that Batman was actually Bruce Wayne or something, it was so—"

"Babe." Dick whispers. "Babe."

"... insane of you to just do something — yeah?" You mumble. "Sorry. We're having sex and I'm—"

"I find it endearing," He laughs, resuming the circles on your hip. "But I'm with you now. Not with Babs." He smiles. "You. I moved here to New York after becoming Blüdhaven's billionaire savior because of you. I didn't move anywhere for any of my exes, right?"

You avoid his gaze, swallowing out of guilt.

"Don't feel bad for doubting me." He smiles. "I understand why."

"I guess that makes two trust issues havers in this relationship." You frown playfully.

"Well," He hums, standing up, switching positions to place you underneath him. "If you don't mind."

"God. I think I should get fucked silly. I hate my brain."

"Then what'll happen to all of my outfits?"

"Just find someone else." You grumble, kicking your legs over him. "I'm sure you can handle it."

"Really?" He thrusts into you sharply, causing you to gasp. "Really."

"Dick Grayson, just get on with it." You grumble.

You wonder sometimes where he had all the energy to patrol, work, and fuck you, but you suppose stamina training might've been part of the curriculum with Batman. Your nails dig into his shoulders as he pounds into you, mess of slick and cum following Dick's cock as he slides in and out of you, the sound of skin slapping skin filling the room. Dick pants into your ears, head spinning, drunk on the lust as he continues, fingers flying to your clit frantically, desperate to get you off. You're drunk off the same lust, hands moving to pull his lips to yours, mouth open and drool all over you two's chins.

It's messy.

You gasp and curl as you get closer, heels digging into the back of his thigh to try and have him deeper, his name slipping past your lips like a mantra, your mind melting into mush over him. Dick mumbles under his breath, marveling at how pretty you look with drool slipping down your chin and clouded eyes. You're gorgeous when you're reduced to a mess that can only gasp his name and pull at his hair. Crying lightly, you whimper about how you were close, spurring Dick to move impossibly faster. You cum with a clench of your walls and a cry caught in your throat, and Dick joins you, hips stuttering as he spills into you with a whimper.

Dick pulls out and collapses on top of you, a soft 'oof' slipping past your lips as he does.

"So... Gotham?"

"Give me two business days to recover from you."

"Yes babe."

The flight to the Wayne Manor is a little strange to you. You keep your apartment, and Dick ends his lease. You're told you get to fly back and forth whenever necessary, and you wonder if staying at the Wayne Manor and publicly getting involved with Dick was a great idea. Yet, you don't really care. You like sketching suit designs for the family in the Batcave. You also like going through the mess of Batman's closet and looking through every single design he has ever sported. Some of them were atrocious.

You turn to stare at the person enterring the Batcave.

"Pretty girl."

"Hey." You hum, leaning back to look at Dick.

"Drawing again?"

"I got bored and ended up here looking for inspiration."

"I figured." He sits next to you on the ground. "What are you drawing?"

"I was redrawing your original outfit as Nightwing," You smile. "The disco suit that you said reminded you of your parents."

"Does it look better now?"

"Slightly?" You raise a brow at the drawing. "There could be improvements."

"Like?"

"It's too flashy," You giggle. "I like my latter design better."

"What about the red one you hid in the back of the papers?"

"Oh, god, I'm embarassed about that one." You mumble. "But you did look good in it. Didn't it help you pull? I'm sure a good chunk of people were staring at your ass."

"You bet they were." He hums. "Didn't you like staring at me in it too?"

"Yeah. Your cape as Robin got in the way too often." You deadpan. "It had to be out there."

"It looked better out."

"Definitely."

"Do you want anything to eat or drink? Alfred's upstairs preparing dinner."

"Just call me when he's ready."

You sigh as Dick presses a kiss to your cheek.

"Sweetheart?"

"Yeah?"

"Love you."

"Love you too."

#nightwing x reader #dick grayson x reader #dick x reader #grayson x reader #like look at how easy it is to tag for dick #dc x reader #if you haven't caught on: there has been an abrupt change of fandoms over the 1 month I didn't post sorry guys #☾.nsfw #☾.fics

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