#Dick Grayson fic

[foerchen]

swapped chapter 4 is up!

feat. Bruce being done with the boys, Alfie being badass, Dick getting traumatised, phone call with Wally, AND THE TUMBLER HUG POST :D

---

Their adoptive father looked like he was at the end of his rope. With a sigh, he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Boys, I don’t bite. What about the spell?”

It was Dick who answered. “Well, it wasn’t as ineffective as we thought.”

B looked at them blankly and gestured for him to continue.

“We kind of woke up in swapped bodies this morning…” Dick admitted sheepishly.

Bruce sighed, and that classic remind me why I thought it was a good idea to pick you up from that damned circus look crossed his face.

Grinning, Jason watched as Tim turned to Dick and silently mouthed, I should’ve left you on the street corner where you were standing.

Dick, in turn, mock-flipped his hair— which looked absolutely ridiculous on Tim’s body— and mouthed back, But you didn’t.

That earned yet another sigh from their adoptive father.

---

ehehehe

swapped - Chapter 4 - foerchen - Batman - All Media Types [Archive of Our Own]

[ahqkas]

you’re not sure how you ended up here—in DICK GRAYSON’S bed, with his hands on your waist, and the weight of his body leaning just enough against yours to make your pulse race. it had started with a quiet moment, a teasing comment, and then a look that lingered a little too long. one thing led to another, and now you’re tangled up with him, your heart pounding in sync with the rhythm of his lips moving against yours.

his bed smells like him ( faintly like clean linen, with a hint of whatever cologne he uses, something warm and grounding ). the scent wraps around you, mixing with the heat of his skin and the way his breath hitches when you tug him closer. his hands trail up your sides, calloused fingertips brushing over fabric and skin as if he’s trying to memorize the shape of you.

you gasp against his mouth when his teeth graze your bottom lip, the sound soft and involuntary, and you feel him smile against you. “what?” he murmurs, voice low and husky, the kind of tone that sends shivers down the valley of your spine. his lips barely leave yours as he speaks, like he can’t stand the distance even for a second.

“nothing,” you manage but the way your voice wavers betrays you.

“liar,” he breathes out, his lips tugging into a smirk and pressing against the curve of your jaw as he moves lower, leaving a trail of warm, slow kisses down your neck. his hands slide up up cradle your face for a moment, tilting your head so he can reach a spot just beneath your ear that has you clinging to him.

your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt, tugging lightly as if to pull him closer. he shifts, the mattress dipping under the added weight and his knee brushes yours, caging you in but never making you feel trapped. his touch is firm but careful. he’s holding back, letting you guide how far things go.

when he pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes are dark with something between want and adoration. “you’re gonna kill me there,” he whispers and his thumb brushes against the apple of your cheek in a such tender movement it makes your heart ache.

[hanasnx]

need dick to pin my legs behind my head FR

MINORS DNI 18+

NOTES: DC is for December Event!

“Never knew you were so flexible.” DICK GRAYSON comments with a snide edge, somewhat an indiscernible tone while you’re concentrating on your position. Your legs have spread out in a full split, toes pointed so delicately in response to the invading feeling in your core. Instead of his every inch sheathing up into you, his big hands have grasped onto the globes of your ass, using them as leverage to roll your hips on him.

Your insides knead his shaft, your fragile state ensuring your dependency on him while he uses your body as he sees fit. His wrists bend all the way—shifting you forward and your tailbone to curl inward—and when they straighten, they pull the fat of your ass with them, sticking it out. Your hole stretches around him, and when it feels particularly raw, you whimper enough to stifle it by biting your lower lip. His chest rises and falls. A thin sheen of sweat percolates on his skin and your mouth waters at the sight of the salt you wanna taste on your tongue. Head thrown back, his pretty black hair cascades out and if you had a mind at all you’d tangle your fingers in it. Instead, you take what he’s giving you.

“So bendy.” Dick muses, and this time it’s far more reverent as he’s positioned on top of you. Swapped out for a lesser evil, you lay on your back while your legs are folded over you. Having stretched, your feet effortlessly reach your head. Cruelly, Dick tests your limits, his palms on your thighs pressing down in a gentle bob. When he finds that you’ve still got some ways to go, he grasps your ankles to mold them to his vision.

“Dick, just put it in—!” you cry, but he’s already picking your head up by your hair, and you feel an ache in your knees when he manages to cross your ankles behind your skull. It takes a second for you to register any sensation other than that sharp pain. That is, until his fat cock throbs inside your pussy realizing what a tight fit you are when he’s twisted you up.

[solar-wing]

⚣ Dick: The Popular Kid 😉

⚣😉 A/N → @swimmingpainterhandsfreak here you are! This is going to come in 3 parts, this one for Dick, and the next two for Jason and Conner separately. Every time I tried to do them all together, I kept getting stuck. They'll all be included in each other's in some fashion, but they'll still all have their own respective parts. Also, because I couldn't find it in my heart to do a fic where Y/N had to choose. Call me a wimp, IDC! Okay maybe just a little...either way, enjoy! WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI | Omegaverse | Courting Rituals | Highschool AU | Alpha Dick Grayson | Omega Male Reader | No one is a vigilante | Dick and Jason are not brothers | Dick is the stereotypical popular kid | Smut |

⚣😉 Summary → Dick, the most popular Alpha in school and one of the sweetest souls anyone will ever meet has his eyes on someone special. What's his plan?

⚣😉 Words → 7.0k

REBLOGS & replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💙

⚣ ENJOY 😉

Dick Grayson? Everyone knows who Dick Grayson is.

Everyone where he went, people swooned and fawned over him like some graceful dignitary or even divine being had just crossed their paths. His charisma was magnetic, drawing others into his orbit effortlessly.

With a smile that could disarm the most skeptical and a charm that seemed to flow from him like a natural force, he moved through the corridors as if he owned them, yet always with a friendly word or a helping hand for those around him. He wasn't just admired; he was adored, a living legend among ordinary teenagers.

And yet, you’d never know it from how Dick acted around others.

Dick Grayson remained remarkably humble and grounded. Unlike many in his position, he never let the almost worshiping attention warp his character. His kindness knew no bounds, and his humility was genuine.

Despite being the adoptive son of Gotham's beloved billionaire, Bruce Wayne, and having access to all the privileges that came with it, Dick never flaunted his status or wealth. Instead, he used his influence for good, often volunteering his time to help those less fortunate in Gotham City.

His actions spoke volumes, proving that true greatness lies not in the accolades one receives but in the way one treats others. In a world where fame and fortune often breed arrogance and entitlement, Dick Grayson stood out as a shining example of grace and compassion.

Bruce was the “Billionaire Playboy,” and Dick was subsequently deemed as “Gotham’s Prince Charming.”

And every prince needed someone to share their kingdom with; Dick Grayson was no exception.

Which is why Gotham’s most prestigious high school and its student population were positively abuzz with excitement at the rumors flying around that Dick was planning to court someone. While many had their own ideas (most being hopes that Dick would choose them), mostly everyone had one certain candidate in mind that had beseeched their heart of their school’s Prince Charming.

“Bitch, are you blind? Have you not seen how hot Y/N and Dick look together?” Sasha replied.

“OMG, yeeess! Like seriously, imagine how cute their kids would be. And Dick would probably be like the world’s best dad.” Manny screeched.

“Fuck all that. Y/N needs to give a real Alpha a chance.” Kevin proclaimed, puffing his chest out.

Everyone at the lunch table eyed the athlete while trying to hold back their chuckles, “Dude, no offense. But, you’ve got nothing on Dick. I wonder how Jason and Conner are gonna react.”

“Well, the four of them have been best friends since what, like the 1st grade? I’m sure they’ll be fine with it,” Ethan said bored, scrolling through his social media feed on his phone before coming across an interesting post, “Oh, would you look at that, Dick proposed to Y/N.”

“WHAT?!” Everyone collectively screamed at the table before Ethan’s phone was snatched out of his hand so they could all see.

“Rude,” The beta scoffed.

Dick had known Y/N practically since diapers after Bruce adopted him when his parents were caught in a fatal accident. The Omega’s parents, specifically his dad, had been classmates and friends with the billionaire.

From the early days of their childhood, they went from being adolescents who were thrown in the playpen together while their parents hung out and caught up, to being thick as thieves, joined at the hip, and now serving as constant headaches for the adults. They shared everything from toys and snacks to hopes and dreams, their laughter echoing through the halls of Wayne Manor as they embarked on countless adventures together.

Their parents often liked to joke that the two of them together were like two halves of one brain cell. Which, if you knew the two, it was nothing but the truth. Even worse when their other buddies Conner Kent and Jason Todd were involved, all four growing up with each other and causing massive chaos when together.

But, for Dick and Y/N, their bond had been special since day one.

From the earliest days of their childhood, Dick and Y/N had been inseparable. Under their parents' watchful eye, they had grown up side by side, learning and exploring the world around them with the curiosity and wonderment of youth.

As they navigated the trials and tribulations of adolescence, their friendship had only deepened, strengthened by the trials they faced together. Whether it was navigating the complexities of high school or grappling with the weight of their respective legacies, they had always found solace and support in each other's company.

In Dick, Y/N found not just a friend, but a pillar of strength, someone to lean on when he felt like he couldn’t stand so strong on his own. Dick's unwavering presence provided a sense of security and stability in a world filled with uncertainty. His caring sensibility and compassionate nature offered solace in times of need, a comforting reminder that no matter what challenges they faced, they would never have to weather them alone.

When they both reached the age of puberty where their second biological statuses would present themselves, their friendship remained steadfast and strong. As Y/N's presentation as an Omega became apparent, the dynamics of their friendship did shift subtly yet significantly added more depth to their relationship.

When there were sudden whispers and sideways glances, a subtle unease had settled in the newly presented Omega, shaking his confidence that had been strong up until then. For Y/N, the change was both bewildering and overwhelming, as he grappled with the newfound scrutiny and expectations that came with his new biological status.

But amidst the uncertainty and the whispers, there was one constant: Dick Grayson. From the moment Y/N's presentation became known, Dick was there, unwavering in his support and resolute in his loyalty. He stood by Y/N's side, a steadfast presence in the face of adversity, offering a shoulder to lean on and a voice of reason in moments of doubt.

When the bullies came, as they inevitably did, it was Dick who stood between them and Y/N, his protective instincts kicking into overdrive. With his new Alpha status and ever-growing popularity standing because of it, the bullying attempts were short-lived since none of their classmates wanted to commit what they considered social suicide by getting on the son of Gotham’s most beloved billionaire’s bad side.

Which, Y/N definitely considered them smart for it. Because, while Dick was always kind and pleasant to everyone, he was never a pushover and would always defend those he cared for with striking resilience.

Emphasis on the ‘striking’ part. Bruce had Dick put in self-defense lessons from the moment he could walk. An unspoken necessity considering the lives they lived.

But perhaps more than his physical prowess, it was Dick's words that offered the greatest solace to Y/N. In moments of doubt and insecurity, when the weight of expectations threatened to overwhelm him, Dick was there, reminding him that there was more to him than any title, rule, or expectation someone placed on him because of his status.

He‘d always repeat how he was strong and capable and that he didn't need the validation of others to prove his worth. And that he’d never know just how much he’d mean to others, especially the Alpha himself.

In Y/N, Dick found not just a friend, but a soulmate—a partner whose presence brought a sense of completeness to his life. As they navigated the complexities of adolescence and the challenges of growing up, Y/N became more than just a confidant; he became a source of emotional support and unwavering understanding.

When Dick grappled with the weight of his past, mourning the loss of his parents and struggling to find his place in the world, it was Y/N who offered a shoulder to lean on and a sympathetic ear to listen. With quiet strength and boundless compassion, Y/N stood by Dick's side through every tear shed and every heartache endured, providing a sense of solace and comfort that no one else could.

But Y/N offered more than just emotional support; he offered clarity and perspective in moments of confusion and doubt. With an intuitive understanding of Dick's innermost thoughts and feelings, Y/N helped him navigate the murky waters of identity and self-discovery, guiding him toward a greater sense of who he truly was.

And while Dick may have been the Alpha in their friendship, it was Y/N who kept him on his toes, challenging him to be better, to do better, in every aspect of his life. Whether it was pushing him to excel academically, encouraging him to pursue his passions, or gently nudging him towards self-improvement, Y/N was always there, helping Dick fill in wherever he was slacking and encouraging him to reach new heights.

But amidst the laughter and the shared moments of joy, there lingered an undeniable tension—a spark of something deeper and more profound. It was a connection that transcended friendship, a bond that spoke of unspoken desires and unfulfilled yearnings. In Y/N, Dick found a kindred spirit, a partner in crime, and perhaps, if fate allowed, something more.

Their relationship was a dance of longing and restraint, a delicate balance of affection and restraint that left them both yearning for more. And as they stood on the precipice of adulthood, their futures intertwined in ways they could never have imagined, Dick couldn't help but wonder if perhaps, just perhaps, Y/N was more than just a friend—he was the missing piece of the puzzle, the one who completed him in ways he never thought possible.

While he may have been too young to really understand everything he was feeling, he knew he didn’t want the chance of him never getting to learn more about it ever become a reality.

So, Dick went to his dad, to ask him how he could properly court his friend. Of course, Bruce, being the observant one who always liked to play detective as his friends and colleagues would point out, was not surprised at his son's request.

Truthfully, he was waiting for the day when Dick and Y/N got together and even had a little wager going on with the Omega's parents. Speaking of which,  he'd won, making sure to have Alfred remind him to collect his winnings from the L/N's when all this was said and done.

Actually, he figured why not collect his winnings as soon as possible. Being a bit of a traditionalist, something he got from his own father, Bruce advised his son the best first thing for him to do was to get Y/N's parents' blessing before he committed to anything else.

So, while Y/N was busy hanging out with some friends for an after-school club, Dick and Bruce made their way over to the L/N residence, where the billionaire smugly watched his son ask the two males if he could court their son. Of course, they gave their blessings with joy, but they didn't miss the subtle smirk on their friend's face as Y/N's dad went to grab his wallet.

Bruce took Dick to the stores to find Y/N a special gift, something that would symbolize his commitment and devotion to his feelings towards the Omega, but would also be an accurate representation of them. The younger male was torn between the many options, unsure of what would be the best choice.

When his eyes landed on a shining, silver chain with a sapphire pendant cut into the shape of a bird, Dick knew this was the one. He made sure to wear it for about a week, using his favorite colognes frequently so it was covered in his scent.

Then, right before lunch, he'd presented the gift to the Omega in the hallway of their school with many of their classmates as witnesses.

"What's this?" Y/N asked, looking down at the velvet box Dick had handed him.

"Remember that history project we had for Mr. Kari's class, and you chose to do one on the ancient Kryptonian society and all its mythological lessons," Dick explained, smiling softly as the memories flooded back.

"I remember."

"Well, I happened to be out shopping the other day–"

"Uh huh, I'll choose to believe that,'" Y/N eyed him suspiciously, making the Alpha chuckle.

"And, I saw this necklace," Dick continued, taking the box from the Omega's hand and opening it.

When the male caught sight of the jewel inside, his breath hitched, unable to take his eyes off the shimmering blue gem.

"It reminded me of your research on the mythological lore of the two birds," Dick explained, pulling the necklace from its cushion, "Flamebird and–"

"Nightwing," Y/N finished his voice barely above a whisper.

"Yeah," Dick smiled, "I guess the jeweler was a fan of the story. But, I remember you talking about their relationship, how they fell in love and were mates, destined to always be reborn and find each other, and it made me think of us, and how I don't ever want to think of life without you."

Take notes folks. Dude's got game.

"Y/N, will you accept this token and allow me the honor to court you, with the hope of becoming your Nightwing?"

Dick knew the Omega was going to later berate him and possibly hit him over the head with a pillow or something for making him cry at school. He liked to refer to himself as an emotional thug, something Jason accurately always called bullshit on.

"You're lucky you're cute you jerk," Y/N sniffled, hugging the Alpha tightly, "Of course, I will."

"Thank you, beautiful," Dick whispered, hugging the male back, ignoring the whistles and cheers of their classmates.

Y/N turned so his back was facing the Alpha, allowing him to clasp the necklace around his neck, the jewel resting near his heart. Dick smiled, wrapping his arms around the male and nuzzling his nose against the other's neck.

"Ugh, I'm calling it. They're so gonna get married and have a bunch of model babies." Manny gushed.

"I can't believe Y/N didn't realize sooner Dick was into him. How oblivious can you be?" Sasha asked.

"He's an Omega. It's a blessing and a curse. Blessing because they're usually the most beautiful and have the best genes. Curse because they're the most clueless and naive. If an Alpha wants to fuck, they're the easiest to seduce." Kevin replied.

"You're a pig. You're lucky no one has tried to castrate you yet." Ethan deadpanned.

"I'm not wrong."

"Still a pig, and you definitely are," Kara replied.

"Whatever. I still think Dick is a weak choice of an Alpha—"

"You're just mad because Y/N didn't go with you to homecoming."

"I'm not—shut up, Ethan! All I'm saying is that Dick is not the ideal choice for someone like Y/N. He needs an Alpha who's strong, can put him in his place when needed, and doesn't put up with his shit. Not a rich pretty boy who's spineless and soft. I'd even say Conner would be a better choice for him, not before myself though," Kevin stated, puffing his chest out a bit.

"Yeah, uh huh. Whatever helps you sleep at night, babes," Manny said, rolling his eyes.

"Just wait and see. When this ends in disaster, and Y/N realizes Dick can't protect or provide for him like a true Alpha can, he'll come running straight into my arms," Kevin said confidently, smirking.

"Maybe this is why you never get invited to Dick's parties anymore and always have to count on getting in with the rest of the football team," Kara mocked.

Kevin rolled his eyes, "Whatever I'm telling you, it's only a matter of time. Yeah, Dick's cool and nice and all that, but that's only going to get him so far. Plus, all the expensive gifts in the world don't compare to the value of a real Alpha," Kevin said while flexing his arms under his varsity jacket.

"Yeah, a real Alpha like you?" Sasha snickered.

"Exactly," Kevin smirked.

"Uh huh, sure. Keep dreaming, sweetie," Manny laughed.

He along with many others would indeed have to keep dreaming. Dick Grayson was not one to do things halfway.

The teen Alpha spared no expense when courting Y/N, taking him on extravagant dates, and spoiling him with lavish gifts. Of course, much of this was being spent on Bruce's coin, but the billionaire didn't mind if it meant he got to see his son happy.

Y/N also knew how Dick was the perfect gentleman (having an English butler who knew everything about being prim and proper helped a lot), but what he was seeing from the Alpha now was a completely different level of chivalry.

He was pulling out the chair for him if he wasn't opening the door for him or offering his coat. If he wasn't paying for the food or dessert, he was giving him his own. If he wasn't helping him into the car, he was holding his hand and making sure his seat belt was fastened.

Y/N was practically never allowed to pay for anything while in Dick's presence, or even in moments when he wasn't. When Y/N accidentally shattered his phone, his parents didn't even need to call the store to order a replacement cause Dick had gone ahead and ordered Y/N the latest new phone.

Dick wasn't just spending Bruce's money willy-nilly. Since Y/N accepted his courting date, Dick got a job just so he could use that extra money to spend on Y/N. Bruce just tended to fund the really expensive dates and gestures.

It gets to a point where Y/N has to think about his words carefully around the Alpha because, within a span of twenty to thirty minutes, it would be presented to him with a bright, adorable smile that made it impossible to be mad at him. The Omega was craving Wendys for lunch and without thinking about it said it out loud. On his way to lunch with a couple of friends, he was confused because Dick wasn't with him since they always walked together from lunch.

But, his sudden disappearance was immediately explained when after arriving at the cafeteria, he turned to see Dick walking in with bags from Wendys.

"Really?" Y/N eyed him with an amused raised brow as the Alpha set the food and drinks on the table.

"What?" Dick responded, an innocent look on his face.

That became more of their routine, even in situations where money was not involved. If Y/N wanted something, he wouldn't need to say a word, and Dick would do it.

One of Y/N's favorite things in the world was Alfred's baking, especially his cookies. On days when the Omega was feeling up to it or was just down in the dumps about something, Dick would surprise him with the cookies. Of course, he was paying for the ingredients and materials and just having Alfred do the baking, but Y/N didn't need to know that.

Sometimes, Y/N would get into a depressive funk about something and would start forgetting to take care of himself. His parents knew how to handle it, but nowadays, they just called Dick, and in under an hour, the Alpha was at their house helping Y/N get back on his feet. Helping him clean his room, organize things around him, and get himself back on track.

If you thought they were inseparable before, well, that was nothing compared to now.

Dick and Y/N were practically joined at the hip, always together, and always touching. Holding hands, shoulders, thighs, waist, etc.

And just as much as there was a slight change in Dick's behavior (in a positive manner of speaking), in how he treated the Omega, there was also a slight shift in his attitude towards others when it came to him as well. It wasn't obvious at first, but to those who paid attention or knew more about them, many could also see how much more protective Dick had grown of Y/N.

Don't be misled, Dick never lost his friendly and kind attitude with others. But, it was easy to see the Alpha tended to become a bit more on guard when with the Omega and they weren't solely around family like their parents or Conner and Jason.

Dick was always at Y/N's side or close by, ready to jump in at a moment's notice if he noticed even the slightest hesitation or uncomfortableness from his Omega. Which, no one would actively fault the Alpha for it, knowing it was typical for Alphas to become a bit more territorial and protective in any matter regarding the Omega they were courting.

And it didn't help that their school was full of prideful, jealous, and horny Alphas along with envious Betas and bitter Omegas. Even more considering they were all hormonal teenagers as well.

When it comes to a courting ritual, there is no greater challenge than competing with other potential suitors.

Since Dick currently held the title of one the most popular Alphas in school, if not the most popular one, mostly every Omega and a significant number of Betas wanted him as their boyfriend. But, since his eyes were on Y/N, that made the Omega in question the recipient of many fake, cheery smiles tinged with jealousy and obvious, hateful glares.

Which, to be honest, he didn't know which one unsettled him more.

On the other end, there were no shortages of Alphas and would-be suitors who saw and wanted Y/N as their mate. And with Dick suddenly courting the Omega, he'd pretty much made himself an open target, even if the majority of them were smart enough to know the consequences.

Dick didn't blame them, of course. Even though he always thought of his Omega as attractive, handsome, beautiful, and every other adjective in a thesaurus, he could clearly see how much Y/N had grown into himself since their early years as teenagers.

Y/N went from being one of the many everyone picked on and pushed around, to being one of the few most sought-after Omegas in the entire school. While puberty could be the literal curse of inconvenience and interruption, there was no arguing that it had its benefits as well.

And many would attest to those benefits personally. Not too much though since they knew Dick was a black belt in martial arts. But, there were always those who thought of themselves as untouchable and would try to test the waters, not realizing the depth of the ocean they were about to dive into.

"Oh, hey, Y/N. You're looking pretty hot today. Maybe we should hang out later. Grab some food or something," An Alpha said, leaning against his locker, his arm blocking his exit.

"Uh, thanks, but no thanks, Mike," Y/N politely declined, trying to pass the guy's arm, but the Alpha wouldn't budge.

"Aw, c'mon, baby. Don't be like that. You know, I could show you a good time. Better than what you've ever experienced. I could treat you right," The male purred, leaning in closer.

"I'm sure you could, but I'm not interested, sorry. Now, if you would excuse me, I have class," Y/N said, trying once again to push the other away.

"Why are you playing hard to get, huh? We both know that's not who you are, baby," Mike replied, grabbing the Omega's wrist and pushing him against the lockers.

"I said, 'no,'" Y/N glared, pushing the guy off him, "So, leave me alone."

"Aww, don't be like that. Come on, let's go have some fun, baby," Mike smirked, pulling the Omega into him.

"Mike, stop," Y/N said, struggling in his grip.

"Excuse me."

Both turned to see Dick, the Alpha's gaze sharp, and his fists clenched tightly at his sides.

"Dick! Hey, man. What's up?" Mike greeted, letting go of the Omega.

"Not much, just getting my books for next period out of my boyfriend's locker," Dick answered, moving to stand beside Y/N, putting a protective arm around his shoulder, "How about you?"

"Oh, uh, nothing much. Just hanging out. I was actually going to head to the library, so I'll see you later," The male tried to quickly excuse himself, only to turn and bump into Conner and Jason who were both standing there with their arms crossed, glaring at him.

"Going somewhere, Mike?" Conner asked, stepping forward.

"Yeah, man. Why the rush? You didn't seem like you were in a hurry a few minutes ago," Jason added, taking his place beside the other.

"No, no. I was just heading to the library. Need to catch up on some studying but uh, I'll catch you guys later," Mike said, but was once again stopped by the two Alphas.

"Why don't we walk with you? Make sure you make it there safely. It's the least we can do, right?" Jason said, a nervous look painted on the other's face.

"You wouldn't mind, would you?" Conner asked, an almost sinister smile on his lips.

"No, no. Of course not," Mike sighed, defeated.

"Well, then. Lead the way," Jason said, motioning for the guy to continue, watching him as he walked away.

"You're coming with us, right, Dickie?" Jason asked, a mischievous gleam in his eye.

"Yeah, I can't let you two have all the fun," Dick smirked, before turning to Y/N, "Mind taking both our books to class, babe? I'll be there in a few minutes."

"Of course not," Y/N nodded, giving the three a small wave as they turned the corner.

The Omega sighed, shaking his head, "Bunch of idiots," He said fondly, walking to his next class.

No one was surprised when Mike turned up at school the next day sporting a black eye and plenty of bruises to match. The three Alphas would deny anything, but everyone could guess what happened.

"Still think Dick can't protect or provide like a real Alpha," Manny asked Kevin with a mocking attitude after they heard about the incident with Mike.

"Shut up, dude," Kevin glared, grumbling.

Dick would continue his courting, making sure to put the fear of God into any other Alpha who dared to lay a hand on his Omega. He was determined to prove his worth, not just to the Omega, but also to anyone else who doubted him.

After everything the Alpha had done, Y/N couldn't imagine anyone else better for him. Sure, Dick wasn't a traditional, stereotypical, and cliche Alpha. He was more on the reserved and kinder side of the spectrum.

But, that's what made him special. He was someone who could make you laugh, even on your worst days, and could comfort you without needing to say a word. When he wasn't the class clown, he was the one everyone could count on and rely on.

His patience was endless, his kindness boundless, and his loyalty unwavering. And, not to forget, the dude was super fucking hot.

Just as much as Y/N was emotionally and mentally attracted to Dick, not that he was looking at the Alpha in a different line since the beginning of this courting ritual, the physical attraction he felt was almost overwhelming.

Dick may not have been on any sports teams, but he might as well have been, cause the dude was fucking ripped. He had abs for days and a backside and thighs to die for. Not to mention, the muscles in his arms.

Y/N could feel himself salivate whenever he had the pleasure of seeing the Alpha undressed and was very lucky no one had ever seen him drooling over his best friend. And the same went for Dick, who'd always been attracted to Y/N but only had just recently started acting on those feelings.

And what did you get when you had two hormonal, in-love teenagers?

Two horny fuckers who couldn't keep their hands to themselves.

"We're going to be late," Y/N said, panting against the door of the janitor's closet they were in, his shirt discarded and pants unbuckled with Dick kneeling on the floor in front of him enjoying himself immensely on the Omega's arousal.

"Don't care," Dick murmured, the vibrations sending a jolt of pleasure through the younger's body.

"Someone's gonna find us," Y/N moaned, gripping the Alpha's hair tightly.

"They won't," Dick hummed, his tongue swirling around as he continued his erotic ministrations.

"Fuck," Y/N whimpered, his hips bucking forward.

"Any louder and you'll be the ones who get us caught," Dick teased, pressing a finger toward the Omega's slicked hole which pushed them over the edge.

"I hate you," Y/N panted, leaning his head against the door, his eyes closed as he tried to calm his racing heart.

"No, you don't. You love me," Dick smiled, the area around his mouth shiny with Y/N's arousal and cum as he stood up and pressed a kiss against the Omega's cheek.

"Ew! Dick, gross," Y/N whined, wiping and cheek and pushing the Alpha back.

"What? It came from your body! That's basically kissing you," Dick chuckled, fixing his clothes.

"That's not how it works and you know it. You're disgusting. I'm not doing this with you anymore," Y/N stated, cleaning himself up.

That was a lie.

Y/N found himself in a role-reversal situation as he was on his knees, forcing the Alpha against the wall while bobbing his head up and down on the Alpha's cock with unforgiving energy.

"Fuck, baby. She was only giving me her notes for the physics exam," Dick groaned, his hand fisting the Omega's hair.

"I'm sure," Y/N growled, his teeth lightly scraping along the length, his mouth still working, "That's probably why she was trying to scent mark you too, right?"

"She wasn't–shit, babe. Fucking hell, that's it. Right there," Dick moaned, his hips thrusting forward.

"Wasn't what? Going to try and get you to knot her in the bathroom stall after the test? Cause, I'm pretty sure that's what her plan was, right?" Y/N seethed, his hand pumping the Alpha's shaft, his tongue flicking the slit.

"Geez, who knew you could get so jealous," Dick chuckled, his breathing ragged.

"Shut the fuck up. Don't think I won't bite this thing off," Y/N threatened, his teeth lightly scraping the flesh.

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry. But, you don't have to worry, alright? There's no one else but you, Y/N. No matter how many Omegas try and throw themselves at me, my eyes will always be on you. Only you," Dick promised, caressing the other's cheek.

Y/N only gave him a look before his mouth was engulfing the Alpha's cock, sucking and licking the throbbing appendage while squeezing at the base to prevent him from cumming.

"Fucking hell, baby. I'm sorry, okay. I won't talk to her again. Promise," Dick whimpered, his orgasm feeling like he was going to collapse if he didn't cum down the Omega's throat soon.

"Damn right, you won't. This here belongs to me. Understand?" Y/N stated his tone firm and commanding while gripping the hard cock in his hand harder for emphasis.

"Yes. Shit, yes. Please, Y/N," Dick begged, his legs starting to shake.

"Who's is it, Dickie?"

"Yours,"

"Who's the only one who gets to taste, touch, or smell this?"

"Only you,"

"Good," Y/N purred, his tongue running to the shaft and its leaking head.

"Oh my god," Dick moaned, his breath coming out in heavy pants.

"You're all mine, Dick Grayson," Y/N declared, his lips wrapping around the swollen head, sucking and licking the precum.

"Yours. All yours, beautiful. Only you," Dick whimpered, his hips rocking gently, his eyes rolling back as he came into the Omega's mouth.

Y/N greedily swallowed, his hands moving to squeeze and massage the Alpha's balls, milking him dry. Dick stared down at the sight of the Omega with his cock still inside his mouth, the male's cheeks hollowed out as he sucked.

"Tastes so good," Y/N hummed, his tongue lapping up the remaining liquid.

"Jesus, babe," Dick groaned, pulling the Omega off the ground and onto his feet.

"What?" Y/N asked innocently, smiling at the Alpha.

"Nothing," Dick smiled, kissing him, "You're just amazing, that's all."

They couldn't get enough of each other, continuing their sneaking off to empty classrooms and bathrooms, sometimes even the gym showers and the locker rooms. They would usually do their "business" in the middle of the day, right after lunch or in the morning.

They would try to do it at each other's house, but would constantly get interrupted by their parents, who more often than not knew what their kids were getting up to. They were teenagers themselves once and didn't want to risk the young Alpha and Omega making a mistake.

It's why neither was allowed to hang out in the other's room without the door open. They used to sleep in the same bed when they were younger, but after they presented and especially started becoming a couple, both Y/N's parents and Dick's dad had to lay down some strict rules.

Didn't mean they would listen though.

"Dick, stop," Y/N whimpered, his hands gripping Dick's forearms as he laid with his back against the Alpha's shirtless chest, his hips rocking into the Alpha's fingers.

"Fuck, baby. So fucking wet," Dick groaned, his fingers thrusting into the Omega's slick, heated hole.

"Dick, your dad or Alfred could hear us and walk in at any moment," Y/N panted, his legs quivering.

"You should've thought about that before you teased me in the car," Dick whispered, his fingers curling and pressing against the spot that had the Omega crying out.

"Fuck!" Y/N whimpered, his fist flying up to his mouth and biting down.

"Yeah, that's it, babe. Stay quiet as you can," Dick husked, his pace increasing, his fingers stretching the Omega's hot walls.

"Mmph," Y/N moaned, his head falling back against the Alpha's shoulder, his hips rocking against the other's hand.

"That's it, baby. Just like that. Feel so good, babe. Gonna ruin this tight little hole of yours," Dick purred, his free hand tweaking and tugging at the Omega's sensitive nipples.

"Dick, please. Wanna cum," Y/N cried, his hand reaching behind and gripping the Alpha's neck.

"Then, cum. Show me how much you love it when I fuck you with my fingers, baby," Dick grunted, his fingers twisting and curling.

"Shit, shit, shit," Y/N chanted, his voice muffled as he bit down on his fist, his orgasm ripping through him, his cum coating his stomach.

"Hey dudes– OH MY FUCKING GOD!"

Both males froze, their heads snapping towards the door, their eyes widening as they saw Jason and Conner standing there, their mouths hanging open.

"Guys! What the fuck!" Dick immediately grabbed his comforter to cover Y/N.

"Dude! We didn't need to see that! What the fuck!" Jason shouted, his hands covering his face.

"This is the worst day ever," Conner mumbled, his eyes closed and shaking his head.

"Get the fuck out!" Dick growled, throwing a pillow at the two.

"Don't have to tell us twice!"

Both boys immediately turned around and ran out of the room, closing the door shut.

"Those two idiots. I'm gonna kill them," Dick grumbled, his arms wrapping protectively around the Omega.

"Well, we should've been more careful," Y/N said, sighing as he still was coming down from his orgasm and the shock of their friends walking in on them.

"Yeah, well. You were the one who decided to tease me the entire car ride," Dick defended.

"Whatever, I'm taking a shower. I feel sticky and gross," Y/N huffed, removing himself from the Alpha's grasp and heading to the bathroom.

"I'm joining you," Dick stated, getting up and following him.

"You're insatiable," Y/N shook his head, a smile on his lips.

"Only for you, baby," Dick winked, shutting the door behind him.

He was indeed insatiable, and it only got worse when they finally did the entire deed, Dick craving every touch and drop of the Omega he could get. It'd get even worse when his instincts and his jealous and territorial side would show when another Alpha would stupidly try to make a move on his Omega.

Now, that Dick had gotten a full taste of the Omega, outside and in, no one could compare. And the thought of someone else touching his Omega, made his blood boil.

Y/N's thighs had trembled as he lay back against the leather back seats of Dick's sports car, the Alpha's large firm, and sweaty body hovering over him as he snapped his hips forwards, inserting his full length inside the Omega. The car rocked back and forth with the force of his thrusts, making the tinted windows fog and preventing anyone from seeing the two teens inside.

"Mine. All mine," Dick growled, his nails digging into the Omega's plush hips, the sound of their skin slapping together echoing.

"Fuck, Dick," Y/N whined, his legs spreading wider, allowing the Alpha to reach deeper, his thrusts unforgiving.

Dick kissed the inside of the Omega's neck, bringing his sweaty body closer when he could feel it sliding up and retreating from his harsh movements. He pressed Y/N harder into the seats as he increased his pace, causing the Omega's moans and noises to reach a higher volume.

"Don't run from me," Dick grunted, his lips capturing the other's in a searing kiss as fucked into him at an even rougher pace.

He nudged Y/N's thighs apart with his hips that attempted to close from reflex, the Omega's body jolting with every deep, forceful thrust. Y/N let out a strained moan, his nails scratching down the Alpha's broad and muscular back as he was fucked like a slut, praying in the back of his mind none of their classmates would notice it steamy and rocking vehicle.

"No one else gets to have you. No one but me. You're mine, Y/N. Always have and always will be. Understand?" Dick's teeth scraped along the male's scent gland as he felt himself getting closer to his finish, "Say it. Say you're mine," He growled, his hands gripping the Omega's ass, pushing his legs further apart, and holding him in place, his cock drilling into the younger's abused and leaking hole.

"Yours," Y/N sobbed, his tears running down his cheeks, his face flushed red, his heart pounding as he was overwhelmed with pleasure, his body on fire, "All yours, Dick. Forever and always."

Dick smiled at the proclamation, eyeing the blew pendant necklace laying against the Omega's sweaty skin right over his heart, his chest puffing out, pride swelling within him, "My Omega," He purred, before delivering a few more thrusts, slamming into the Omega with a loud groan as he shot his load into the condom.

The pair lay there, panting, trying to regain their breath. Dick had his head tucked against the Omega's neck, his arms wrapped around him tightly, his knot keeping him connected.

"Are you satisfied now?" Y/N breathed, his eyes closed, his hands resting on the Alpha's broad and sweaty back.

"For now," Dick answered, smiling, pressing a kiss against the male's skin.

"I swear if anyone saw us and spread this around the school because you got a little jealous–"

"A 'little' jealous? I was not a little jealous. That guy was all over you and wouldn't take no for an answer. I had to step in," Dick defended.

"We were talking, Dick. He was asking me for notes about the history final. Not every Alpha or Beta that talks to me is going to be another Mike," Y/N explained.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Shut up and cuddle me. I need affection," Dick pouted, snuggling the Omega.

Y/N chuckled, rolling his eyes, but did as asked, wrapping his arms and legs around the Alpha.

"There, better?"

"Much," Dick smiled with another soft kiss to the Omega's chest, right by his necklace.

"Good. Now, when are we getting you the necklace to match mine?" Y/N asked, his fingers tracing the lines of the muscles on the Alpha's back.

"Patience, baby," Dick chuckled, his hand rubbing up and down the smooth and soft body under him.

"Don't tell me to be patient," Y/N grumbled, pouting, "If you're Nightwing then I have to be Flamebird, which means you need a necklace that looks like a Flamebird. We're a mated pair, remember?"

"Oh I remember," Dick smirked, flexing his dick inside the Omega's warm walls.

"Fuck. Don't do that," Y/N whined, his legs tightening around the Alpha's waist, his back arching off the bed.

"Sorry, baby," Dick apologized, not sounding sorry at all.

"You're not," Y/N rolled his eyes.

"Nope," Dick grinned, his tongue licking up the Omega's neck.

Dick continued courting Y/N throughout the rest of the school year. As expected, they were each other's date to the prom where they proceeded to have hot, crazy sex at their hotel, and then came graduation.

To no one's surprise, other than maybe Y/N's, Dick proposed at their commencement ceremony, in front of everyone, the whole school watching. The Omega said yes, of course, and they were congratulated and cheered by their classmates and faculty.

Their parents were surprised, not expecting the couple to take the next step so quickly. They were happy for their sons, of course, but wanted them to be sure. Dick and Y/N agreed to both wait till after college to actually get married, fine with just being fiances' for now.

Someone had caught a picture of them kissing after Dick proposed and replaced the photo they had initially of them in the school's cutest couple section of their class yearbooks. The bunch of saps.

It was a love story straight out of the books—wait a second...

...

Nah.

☀️ | Dick Grayson/Nightwing | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

🏍️ | Jason: The Rebel | 🏍️ • 🏈 | Conner: The Jock | 🏈

[glamourscat]

ㅤ♡ Dick Grayson (n)sfw headcanons ㅤ♡

SFW

age 27-33. 178cm tall, lean acrobatic body, feet and hands are rough and calloused. The brightest blue eyes. Mainly hair on his chest and sometimes he rocks a moustache until he is “bullied” by the rest of the batfamily lmao. Romani (stop whitewashing him dc). Bisexual

He is extremely kind and can sometimes be naive. He loves to love, family, in his romantic relationships, in his friendships– he has so much love to give

He is pretty much the older sibling/fun aunt that you got to if you have a problem on the emotional side. Because if there’s someone who can sit down with you and help you properly it’s him.

Despite his kindness he can also be extremely stubborn, holding grudges. His jealousy is probably the one more “visible” out of the batboys, because he either turns into passive aggressive or pda is heavily involved

Millennial humour, I know, sorry not sorry. He laughs obnoxiously loud. He barely understands memes

Fashion icon. Leaning towards a more androgynous look, he will wear it and rock it. Bell trousers, cowboy boots, sparkling shirts and long coats. He can pull it off even if they aren’t supposed to match, he manages to make them.

Was a theatre kid hello?! He was in a circus 

Mostly listens to pop music/upbeat music

Elder sister trauma, yeah, look it up. It’s basically him.

I can’t see him having kids. I’m more inclined to say he will get married and probably adopt an older child later in life eventually. 

NSFW

A talker. Will literally guide you through it

Out of the rest of the batboys he is the most likely to be a soft dom. Praises, marks, trying new things… you name it, he will probably try it at least once. 

Worship! Mutual, at that. But leaning more him on you 

Aftercare? More like heaven. He knows exactly what to do and how to do it. 

Constantly checks if you're doing ok 

He is a generous person so safe to assume he will be a generous lover. From extra kisses, the extra gentle touches… 

And if you’re feeling down? Totally mirror sex while he whispers the most filthy praises in your ear 

Mostly in control, he can switch easily between a slower to a match faster pace 

A TEASE. I dont know, he just strikes me as someone who would enjoy teasing during sex. Sure, sex is serious and is intimate, but there can be a few laughs here and there. 

I wouldn't say he would be down to do it in a public place, tho, he will be a bit risky and do it in the comfort of your room when he knows other people are at home. Exhibitionist? 

He is LOUD and shameless about it. 

© GLAMOURSCAT (all rights reserved. do not share, modify, translate and re-upload my work outside of tumblr)

[inkdrinkerworld]

Oh please expand on your thoughts about Dick being obsessed with reader’s hips and love handles!! What happens when he leaves Jason to go find them???

Initial thought a little suggestive so MDNI 18+ONLY

“You’re fucking whipped!” Jason calls after him as he watches Dick rush off behind you.

Jason doesn’t need to be looking at his brother to know that he’s flipping him the bird.

“I’m leaving, don’t break the bed again.”

“Baby,” Dick walks into the bedroom to find you sitting with your scrapbook and your colourful pens and markers all spread out on your table.

“Yes?” You spare him a quick glance and then look back at your book. You’re trying to arrange your cuttings and scraps from your days in the city with Dick nicely but you’re just not getting the right look.

“C’mere a second,” he’s leaning on the door jam, watching you as you sigh and stand. He gives you a once over and bites his lip. “Fuck.”

“What?” You look down at yourself and then back up at Dick. He doesn’t say anything and you frown. “Richard, what is it?”

He only shakes his head. “You just,” he inhales harshly and he’s got you pressed up against him suddenly; his hands cemented to your hips kneading the fat there. “You’re unbelievably attractive.”

“I’m only in lounge clothes.” You’re trying to not let the effects of his attention be too evident but it isn’t working because Dick can see your pulse tick under your jaw.

“Yeah and you’re stunning. I swear it’s your fucking hips I don’t know what about them but they’re so fucking,” Dick trails off as his hands grope your hips and waist a little harder.

You don’t mind. His nose brushes along your jaw, his mouth nipping at the sensitive skin under it making you shiver.

“Jason is right outside.” Despite your efforts, your voice is breathy and your head cranes back just a little to give Dick more room.

“He went home, just you and me here.” His teeth sink into the column of your neck making you gasp.

“I’m scrapbooking.” You try to deny the way your stomach pools, the heat that pours right into your centre and crawls up your chest making your breath heave.

Dick licks against your neck, sucking a bruise right above your collarbone. “Too busy for me, then? Should I stop?” He’s only teasing, Dick knows that won’t be what you want. He’s proved right when your arms sling around his neck and you pull him closer.

“No, no. Keep going.”

[saltwaterburns]

hellooooo would you consider elaborating on your thoughts about Dick & biting... doesn't have to be a fic written post but ough. I wanna hear your thoughts about marking him up, how he reacts, etc.

I feel like biting any part of Dick is the equivalent to picking up a kitten by its scruff and watching it go absolutely limp and pliant in your hand. Dick is a peacock in human form, always flashing his pretty smile and pretty eyes, his pink lips pulled into a sultry pout, his black curls like a halo atop his head. But the second he feels your canines dig into his soft, supple flesh he starts singing like a (pretty) bird, all gasps and airy pleas of "Again, please." The pain of it is absolutely exhilarating to him. The dull ache that within a moment manages to turn into hellfire, all his muscles tensing that in return knock the air out of his lungs and make the bite hurt more; the sweet release of your teeth letting his skin go and the now pleasurable ache that throbs beneath his skin.

Let's not mention him getting off to all the purple-blue-yellow-green splotches that cover his body a few days later. He's standing in front of a tall mirror in all his naked glory, transfixed by all the colourful bruises on his skin, his hand slowly working on his cock. He presses down on a set of teeth marks inside his thigh and comes with a long, drawn out whine of pain, his stomach clenching as he paints his fist white.

There's also something extremely erotic about him feeling those said bites underneath his Nightwing suit each night he patrols - both a sweet reminder of you to go home to and a reminder of your teeth digging into his bicep two days earlier. He snaps out of his thoughts when gunshots are heard a few blocks away and grapples there with pink dusting his cheeks.

Now, that's you biting him. I wholeheartedly believe he bites you back.

Okay, not bites. Nips. He nips at you like a playful dog wanting to play catch. He nips at your fingers, your cheeks, your nose. He loves biting down on your bottom lip and pulling it down, a self pleased smirk on his face. He likes to nip at your jaw whenever he peppers you with kisses, but he usually doesn't go anywhere near your neck. He likes to take his time there, suck the flesh between his lips and hold, letting go with a soft "Pop!", admiring the now bright purple spot on the side of your neck, too high to be covered by clothing. Your neck is his canvas and you are his muse.

[diariesofthelover]

Wayne Brothers’ Gala Girl

synopsis: Bruce Wayne’s galas are held every once in a blue moon, but when they did occur, every Gotham socialite was sure to attend. The eldest sons of Gotham’s favorite billionaire always wound up in some trouble to entertain themselves, this time the brothers’ idea of fun was a beautiful woman who looked almost as bored as them.

notes: Jason Todd & Dick Grayson x reader, 3rd person pov, little bit 🌶️, inspired by the painting above.

The Eldest Wayne brothers found themselves in the quietest corner of the gala, bored with no idea of what they can get into this time around to beat last gala’s “performance” as they would call it.

“We could set off the fire alarm,” Dick suggests lazily to his younger brother.

“What are we twelve? Most of the people here already think we’re still fifteen.”

“No, they think you’re still fifteen because you were legally dead for like four years.”

“Shut up, dickwad.”

“HER!” Dick exclaimed, “Her, her, her, her!”

“You were Robin not a fucking parrot, her what?”

“That beautiful beautiful woman right there that looks even more miserable than we do with those tuxedo vultures circling her.”

Tuxedo vultures was spot on. These rich pigs had her trapped, all trying to win her attention one at a time, attempting a better pitch than the last guy. Any kind of manners that were instilled in her from an early age couldn’t apply after the third man insisted that he was the perfect man for her, actually, the perfect man for any proper woman, brains or not. All of the men here were the exact same, they believed their money and family were enough to flatter any woman here, that having any form of a likable personality or distanct traits besides snobbery was, “not something women really wanted.”

The woman couldn’t control her eye roll after the second attempted joke was made, averting her gaze where her eyes landed on the two men who already had their bright eyes on her, Bruce Wayne’s oldest sons.

She didn’t have a problem with the Wayne Family of course, she was after all attending their gala, it was just some of the guests that she wasn’t so fond of.

“What about her?” Jason looks over to who Dick was fawning over. Jason wasn’t blind, actually his vision only got better after he was resurrected, he too thought that the woman was beautiful, maybe one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen, which is why he immediately shut Dick down, knowing what he was going to try to do.

“No, Dick. No chance, leave her alone.”

“I don’t think she wants me to,” Dick replies as the woman returns his famous flashy grin with a soft smile.

Dick had been trying to get Jason…well more out there after the whole dying, coming back to life, and then out in the public eye again thing. Jason died young, he barely got a chance to live his teenage years so whenever Jay’s attracted to someone, he starts acting like a teenage boy but at the age of twenty instead of sixteen.

Dick, make every girl swoon over him since his Robin days, Grayson mastered the whole girl thing by now and is trying to be his not so little brother’s tonight’s wingman.

“Follow me,” Dick whispers to Jason, not taking his eyes of the beauty across from him.

Dick and a hesitant Jason make their way over to the group of men that were all secretly jealous of their father, probably jealous of his sons too, interrupting the lifeless conversation and taking all of her focus off the vultures and onto him and Jason.

“Good evening gentlemen, how are we doing tonight?” Jason almost gagged at his at his brother’s fake politeness, he was always the better one at socializing, his charming personality didn’t stop at women.

“Richard Grayson, boy you’ve certainly grown up since I last saw you!” An older man around Bruce’s age greets him stirring up the rest of the men.

“Dick Grayson huh, pleasure to finally meet Gotham’s new prince.”

“I hear you’re very popular with the ladies,” the group erupted into laughter, these men really love any jokes to do with a woman don’t they?

“And you must be Bruce’s other son, Tim is it?” Jason’s takes his eyes off the woman to give the man a slight scowl, he promised Bruce he’d behave tonight.

“No, no, that’s Jason the one that…” one of the men tries to begin to tell the epic tale of Jason Todd.

“Say, we would love to stay and chat but our date has been waiting for us for quite a bit now,” Dick quickly interrupts him before Jason pulls out any kind of weapon on these men and offers his hand to the woman.

She places her hand into his thinking that she’d rather be a damsel in a in distress in need of saving by a knight, or in Gotham’s case a masked vigilante, instead of spending another moment with some men that are old enough to be her father thinking about how’d she make the perfect trophy wife and the younger who simply want to get laid after the gala. As Dick pulls her away from the hungry drunken men, she offers her hand to Jason who gives her a confused and flustered look.

“If I’m not mistaken, Mr. Grayson said our date,” she says to him in the most soothing and charming voice Jason’s ever heard.

Forcing himself to snap out of this teenage haze, Jason takes her hand earning a smile from both her and his brother.

“I hope you don’t mind us whisking you away like that, you just seemed like you weren’t enjoying yourself,” Dick started, never dropping his darling smile.

“I don’t mind at all, I needed an excuse to get away from them,” the woman looks back at the men as they watch the brothers walk away with their “prize” in envy, “god they’re pathetic,” she sighs.

“Tell me about it,” Jason mumbles beside her.

“All night I’ve been surrounded by these people that only talk about their money, their jobs, their mansion and penthouses, it’s a bit exhausting, they really can’t think of anything else to discuss. It’s fascinating that they really think that’s the way to win over a woman.”

“Well I can promise you we’re a lot more interesting than that,” Dick laughs, “We also have access to all parts of the manor, how about Jason and I give you a little tour?” Dick states rather than asks earning a questioning look from Jason about what he’s planning.

“If you insist.”

Jason knew how Dick wanted him to jump into the dating pool. He frequently tried to set him up with either other vigilantes so he wouldn’t have to worry about his partner 24/7, or an ordinary Gotham citizen where Jason could escape from Gotham’s criminals and Red Hood duties to enjoy a semi-normal life. What Jason wasn’t understanding was why Dick had a chosen a woman that he was madly attracted to as well.

As Dick began his small tour of the manor, Jason stood awkwardly alongside the woman who was attentively watching his older brother and the places he showed. Jason didn’t know if he should join in or take over, make some small talk, he was sort of frozen in place and shy. You’d think that the big bad Red Hood who always had a mouth on him since he was Robin and would break Batman’s moral code would be the last person to get nervous around a pretty girl, maybe Red Hood wouldn’t but Jason Todd would.

“And this is the library, Jason’s favorite place in the manor,” Jason was snapped out of his thoughts when Dick mentioned his name, “once he comes in here you won’t see him for hours.”

“Big reader?” It took a moment for Jason to realize that the question was for him and not Dick.

“Yea, um, yes, I love literature.”

“Really, would do you love to read?” She was now fully focused on Jason who was struggling to maintain eye contact as his cheeks and ears were colored red.

He couldn’t keep his cool physically but he could try verbally, “classics,” he responded simply, not adding more to his portion of the conversation to which Dick internally sighed to.

“Dostoevsky, Shakespeare, Austen?” The charming woman tried to get something out of the boy.

“All of them, and more of course,” Jason gave her a shy smile.

She heads towards the leather chair that Jason always sits in, making herself comfortable in his spot.

“This where you sit, get lost in all those stories you read?”

Something about her sitting in his chair made his blood rush. The way that she had made it look twice the size bigger being half the size of Jason, the way she relaxed into his chair, sinking into his molding. The boy was so mesmerized he forgot to answer her question.

Dick noticed and decided to swoop in, “Mhm, right here,” Dick drags now standing over her, “he’s a very smart guy you know with all the books he reads, runs in the family.”

She slowly shifted her gaze from Jason to Dick who was getting closer and closer, “I guess the looks do too, interesting for adopted brothers,” earning a smile from both boys.

“Excuse my brother for his shortness, we usually occupy ourselves with stunts at these galas, not beautiful women,” Dick says switching the attention back onto Jason, “he can get pretty shy.” Normally that statement would earn a punch to the shoulder or at least a nasty remark but Dick was right, Jason was pretty shy around pretty girls.

Dick and the mystery woman were now smiling at Jason who was leaned against the wall, close enough to where he can see the rise and fall of her chest, but far enough from engaging the way Dick was.

Dick gently tilts her head up with his large calloused hands forcing their gala girl to look up at him, “What do you think of my brother?”

Now it was the woman’s turn to be painted red, “I think he’s one of the most handsome and intriguing men I’ve ever seen.”

“And me?” Dick pouts.

“I think you’re one of the most handsome and charming man i’ve ever come across,” she says in a sultry tone that lures the boys in like sailors to a siren.

Both Dick and Jason’s blood is rushing, relishing in the fact that this goddess of a woman found the boys to be worthy of her attraction, that nobody else at the gala was as good as them.

“Tell me something, both of you,” she starts, “why stray from your usual chaos and shenanigans to show me around your manor?”

“You’re much more intriguing than anything we had in mind,” says Jason surprisingly boldly as he moves closer to her.

“You’re the most entertaining here tonight, baby,” adds in Dick who quickly got back his confidence after a brush to his ego.

“I heard I was beautiful too,” she teased, trying to get the higher ground again.

“I bet you get told that a lot, don’t you angel? You think that’s what those pigs were telling her Jay? How much of a pretty girl she is,” It was too late though, once Dick Grayson got wound up, he got complete control, “Now you tell me something doll, did they tell you how sexy you look in that dress of yours?” She shakes her head no, any kind of witty and teasing responses wiped from her pretty head, “Aw, well that’s just wrong, Jason tell her how good she looks in that dress.”

Both eyes are on Jason, waiting for his compliment, “She looks—you look stunning in that dress,” Dick was waiting for more, he knew Jason had the vocabulary he just needed the push, “You suit my color, red’s my favorite,” now they were getting something out of him.

“I’ll be sure to think of you when I wear red again,” god she was good. Dick had to bring the power back to him and Jason again, this all quickly became a game to him, his real entertainment for tonight’s gala.

“And what if we got rid of the red,” Dick slips the strap of her dress off her shoulder causing her to shudder, he’s in control again, “how’s that look?”

“Fuck,” Jason whispered under his breath.

“I think Jason feels the same way about it as I do,” with how quiet it was in the library his whisper was heard easily by the two, “what do you think pretty, you think it’s better?”

She felt like how Jason felt in the beginning, mesmerized and stunned. From Dick talking to her so confidently and his usage of pet names, to the way Jason was losing his fucking mind over her.

“Y’gonna answer me or are you gonna keep looking at Jay with fuck me eyes?” Dick wasn’t jealous, he was trying to tease the two, get them riled up.

Before she gets to respond there’s a knock at the door, “Master Richard and Master Jason, Master Bruce requests your attendance for at least another half hour.”

“We’ll be right out Alfred,” Richard quickly answered before Alfred could barge in on the scene, “shall we?”

Dick heads towards the door as Jason and their gala girl slowly fix themselves up, avoiding any kind of eye contact with each other.

Dick stops Jason before they head back out to the gala, “You’re welcome, Jaybird.”

[rabbidbunwy]

🔞 Dick Grayson x reader| Minors DNI| NSFW WARNING!!! 🔞

You and Dick make out in your camper after his hero shift ended

Contents: Dick x Fem! reader-both adult-explicit content-crampie-moaning-consensual-smut-cumming-hard-cussing-l'ots of pet names by Dick-cute-fluff-aftercare-affirmation by Dick-body talk-reader is insecure about their appearnces/body

I'm no english native so sorry for some mistakes

Please reblog 🔁 and like❤️

P.s: uhhh now i write for DC too i guess? ╮(￣▽￣)╭ i just write what cames in my mind,it's not good but i try ahaha (-ヮ-"")

it's my first time writing him especially NSFW so i'm like ahhhhh

@muzansslxt @candy69gurl @kiwicopia @satorkive @ponderingmoonlight

₊˚ʚ 🧊 ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ 🧊 ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ 🧊 ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ 🧊 ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ 🧊 ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ 🧊 ₊˚✧ ﾟ.

Dick shushes you as quietly as he can, trying to keep you both as silent as possible. The trailer is small, the thin walls practically paper-thin. It’s not just the two of you in the trailer park, there are plenty of other people around as well. Anyone can hear you if you’re too loud.

“Keep it down” he murmurs before capturing your lips with his own again, his hands roaming your body. You moaned in his mouth as you felt him burying inside you.

Dick groans as your body clenches around him, the sound being buried by your own moan against his lips. He tries to keep you quiet by muffling your sounds with his own mouth, his teeth nipping at your lip as he begins to move, setting a quick and eager pace. It’s been so long since he’s had the time to be alone with you, the last thing he wants to do is wait.

“Stay quiet, darling, don’t want to get caught” he murmurs against your skin, his lips trailing down the column of your neck.

You moaned in response,gripping his shoulders biting down on his skin to muffled them

Dick’s lips fall away from your neck, letting out a sharp hiss as you bite his skin. It hurts, but in the best way possible. He’s always loved the way you mark his skin. The way you claim him as your own.

“Darling” he breathes, a warning in his voice as he continues to move, hips rocking against yours quickly. Even with the warning, he’ll never make you stop. “Please, bite me again.”

As Dick found your g spot you melted allowing him to go deeper as you bited his shoulder harder "ff..fuck oh f..fuck god" you mewled

Dick groaned as you bit into his shoulder, your reaction driving him to move harder and faster. He knows exactly how to please you, and exactly how to make you fall apart.

“That’s it” he murmurs, his fingers digging into your hips. He’s careful to make sure the mark won’t be visible with his suit later. “That’s it—such a good girl for me, aren’t you?”

Dick keeps your wrists pinned on either side of your head, keeping you locked in place in the mating position. “Don’t move, darling” he murmurs, his voice firm. He’s in control right now, keeping you locked to the bed as he moves.

He leans down, his lips finding your ear once again. “You know better than to disobey.”

Desperate moans lifted your lips,sweat running down your face,eyes closed and mouth open

“God, you’re so perfect like this” he breathes in your ear as he moves. “So pretty, all for me.”

Dick releases one of your wrists to reach down, his hand moving between your bodies. He circles his fingers over the bundle of nerves, wanting to send you over the edge again. “Come on, darling, can you come for me again? Just like that.”

Dick knew you were close, he could hear it. He loved to hear the beautiful sounds you made as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge. “That’s it, darling, just like that” he coos, his lips returning to your neck. “Be a good girl and come for me.”

You mewled moaning "ah ah D..dick.." you whined as your pussy clenched around his cock

“Good girl, come on” he repeated, encouraging you as he continued to drive into you, his fingers working over your clit. The praises leave his lips effortlessly, falling over and over as he works you over. “That’s it, darling, come for me. Let me hear those pretty sounds of yours"

"N..not the c..clit mhn" you whined pouting as your cunt made wet sounds "mhn not f..fair" you moaned again

Dick smirked, his smirk pressed against your skin. He loved to tease you like this, to take you to the edge and leave you there. “What was that, darling?” he muses, his voice low and his breath warm. “You don’t like when I do that?”

He circles his fingers over your clit in the same exact motion, drawing another whimper from you. “Not fair?” he repeats back, his lips still against your skin. “Why’s that?”

You cried out moaning mewling moaning faster the combination of his fingers and his cock made you see starts "mhnn n…not f..air…g..gonna come" you moaned desperately

Dick smiled, relishing in the way your body reacts to his touch. The way your legs would shake, how you’d whine and whimper, the perfect little sounds you made. All because of him. “Yes you will, darling, come on” he coos as he keeps his fingers moving in the same pattern. “I know you can do it, come for me like a good girl. That’s it, that’s it, so pretty”

Plop sounds filled the room along your moans "Ah ahn" He hitted your g spot again melting you "c..coming..hamn"

Dick groaned as your body began to fall apart, clenching around him. He could feel how close you were, in the arch of your back, the way your breaths hitched, the way you kept repeating his name like a prayer.

“That’s it” he encouraged, his fingers moving faster. “Come for me, darling, you’re so beautiful, come for me” Dick held you close as the orgasm washed over you, your body shaking as you came around him. He continued to move, working you through the intense pleasure. “That’s it, darling, so good for me” he breathed, his own breath catching as he began to get close himself. “Don’t...don’t stop” he repeated, his voice growing more breathless as he chased his own climax. “Keep going, don’t stop” he repeated urgently. “Stay just like that, just like that—“

His words were cut off as he finally came, burying himself as deep as he could and letting out a strangled cry , his hips stilling and his body shaking. He held you tight against him as he tried to catch his breath, his head falling to your shoulder. “Fuck” he panted softly, his voice muffled against your skin. “You’re so perfect, darling, so perfect.”

He slowly pulled out, shifting to lay on the bed beside you, his arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you into him. He held you close, holding you against his chest as he tried to catch his breath.

“You alright?“ he asked after a moment, tilting your chin up to look at him. He pressed a soft kiss to your lips, his thumb rubbing against your cheek. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?“

He knew he had a tendency to get carried away and lose control sometimes, especially when it came to you. He was always so worried about doing something that would hurt you. Whether it be physically or emotionally — he wanted to make sure you were okay.

"no,it was good" you purred snuggling on his chest

Dick smiled, his arm wrapping around you a little tighter as you snuggled up against him. He loved the feeling of having you in his arms like this, so soft and warm and safe.

“Good” he murmured, pressing another kiss to your hair as he began to run his fingers through the strands soothingly. “I was worried I might’ve gotten a little carried away there in the end.”

Dick held you closer, pulling the covers up over the two of you. He rested his chin on the top of your head as he continued to run his fingers through your hair, gently massaging your scalp.

He could stay like this forever. Wrapped up in bed with you, alone and carefree. If he had his way, you’d never have to leave his arms.

He knew he shouldn’t be getting so attached. Dick was a superhero, and the life that came with being a vigilante didn’t allow for things like relationships. But he couldn’t help how he felt about you. With you, it was different. You made him want to throw caution to the wind, and just be with you.

But he knew he couldn’t. He had responsibilities, duties that came before his own happiness. He couldn’t bring you into that world. It was too dangerous. You’d only get hurt.

He held you a little tighter, his mind swirling with thoughts as he tried desperately to shake them away. He couldn’t let himself dwell on the ‘what ifs’. Not now. Not when he had you here with him.

Dick closed his eyes, focusing on the feeling of your body curled up against him. The sound of your breaths, the feeling of your hair under his fingers, the warmth of your skin. All of it was so perfect, he couldn’t let himself ruin it now by overthinking everything.

He was determined to push those thoughts from his mind and just enjoy this moment with you. You were here now, and that’s all that mattered. Nothing else. Just him and you, here in this moment.

He pressed another kiss to the top of your head, his arm wrapping a little tighter around you. “I love you” he murmured softly. “You know that, right?” "Me too pumpkin" you cooed again kissing his neck snuggling "so much"

Dick smiled, his heart fluttering in his chest as you kissed his neck. He loved it when you called him things like that, little pet names and cutesy phrases. It always made him feel so special, so cared for.

He held you a little tighter, his arms encircling you and holding you against him like he never wanted to let go. “I don’t deserve you” he murmured, his voice quiet. “You’re too good for me, you know that?”

“You could do so much better than me” he continued, his thumb tracing small circles against your shoulder. “You deserve the world. And I just…I’m just a guy. A guy with a dangerous job, and a lot of baggage.” "Stop that bullshit pumpkin,you protect the city,the innocents and that's all i need to know" you purred

Dick couldn’t help but smile slightly. You always seemed to know exactly what to say to make him feel better.

“Yeah, but I don’t exactly have, y’know, a stable job” he countered, his voice still quiet. “I don’t have a lot of money. I’m always putting myself in danger. I could get hurt at any moment. And I’m barely even here at the apartment half the time.”

"I don't care as long as we have eachother,afterall love can conquer all" you replied pepper kissing his cheek before biting it playfully

Dick chuckled, the sound low and deep. He couldn’t stay serious too long when you were being so damn cute.

“You know, most people would run for the hills if they found out their boyfriend was a superhero” he said, his hands roaming your body. “I’m surprised you’re not scared off by it, darling. I’m not exactly normal.”

"You're the damn Nightwing,Dick,super famous and all, i should be the one saying that,i'm just a normal woman with well illustration job and drawing stuff" you chuckled

“Just a normal woman” Dick repeated, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, sure. The most beautiful woman alive, with the most caring heart, and insanely talented at art. Yeah, just normal.”

"Well im not pretty first of all,i'm not that good looking ass blonde uh women you see around,i'm chubby and wears sweaters or sporty clothes"

“And I don’t want one of those blonde fake girls” Dick countered, pulling you a little closer to him. “I want you. The real you. You’re perfect the way you are, darling. I don’t want some fake girl with the big butt and perfect body. I want someone real. I want you.”

“Besides, I like that you wear oversized sweaters” he added, gently running his fingers over your sides. “They’re cute. And it means when I take them off of you” he teased, his voice growing quieter “it’s all the more satisfying.”

“I love how soft you are” he murmured, his hands roaming your body. “How curvy you are, how soft and warm you are. You’re perfect, darling, so perfect. I don’t want you to feel like you’re not good enough because you’re not what society’s version of ‘perfect.’ You’re good enough. You’re more than good enough. You’re everything, darling.”

He knew you would argue with him on it. He knew you would try to put yourself down, to focus on all the things you viewed as flaws. But he wasn’t going to let you do that. He loved everything about you, your body, your mind, your heart. Every part of you was perfect to him. “You’re beautiful, darling” he repeated, his hands tracing over your curves. “And I’m going to repeat it as many times as I need to until you believe it. Got it?”

“Yeah, yeah” you mumbled, nuzzling your head into his chest. He could feel the heat rising in your cheeks as he showered you with compliments. You still weren’t used to being complimented so much, but you were getting better at accepting them.

“Don’t think you’re off the hook yet” Dick teased, pulling you closer. “If you start to put yourself down again, I’m just going to keep repeating how perfect you are, over and over. Even when you get sick of hearing it, I’m not gonna stop. So you better get used to it, darling.”

He planted a gentle kiss to the top of your head, his hands moving to rest on your hips. He loved being here with you like this, holding you close and hearing the sound of your soft breaths. It was a moment of peace and serenity in the chaos of his life.

“Get some sleep, yeah?” he murmured, his fingers tracing small circles against your skin. “You need rest. You’ve been working yourself too hard again, I can tell.”

He knew you had a habit of overworking yourself, especially with deadlines. You always tried to do too much, give too much, push yourself too hard. He was worried about you, but he knew you were stubborn and would try to brush it off if he mentioned it.

“And no more working late” he added, his voice a little firmer. “I swear if I have to wake up to an empty bed again, I’m going to tie you to the bed and not let you up for a week. Understood?”

He smirked as he felt you shiver slightly, your body reacting to his command. He knew you liked it when he was a little dominant, when he took charge and told you what to do. It always got a reaction out of you that he loved to see.

“That got your attention” he teased, his tone still firm. “No more working late, darling. I mean it. That means no more all-nighters at the office, and no more working in your room at three in the morning. Got it?”

He felt you nod against his chest, your head rubbing against his skin. “Yes, Sir” you mumbled, your voice quiet and slightly submissive. It sent a shudder down his spine when you called him that, a reminder of just how much control he had over you right now.

“Good girl” he purred, his hands continuing to roam your body. “You listen to me, understand? I don’t want you working yourself too hard. I worry about you, darling. You need to look after yourself better.”

[forwards-beckon-rebound]

kiss and cry

summary | you’ve learnt to build your walls sky high in the wake of dick grayson’s abrupt departure from the world of skating. but one decade later, he’s back like nothing ever happened, and you’re back to square one. prompt | language of flowers event: a bouquet of purple hyacinths in blue wrapping paper with a pink ribbon ♡ pairing | dick grayson x gn!reader wc | 3.2k warnings/tags | pairs figure skating, childhood friends to strangers to ???, mutual pining, repressed feelings, angst, swearing, insecurity, no use of y/n, very liberal interpretation of how you’d qualify for the olympics ty @strangergraphics for the divider!

Brian Orser is a liar. 

“Oh c'mon kid, I had no idea. I thought this was a good kind of surprise! You might have a chance at the Olympics this time around!”

You should’ve known something was up when he asked you to stay after practice. The old man is annoyingly close to catching up with you, and if you weren’t wearing skate guards right now, you’d speed walk to the lockers faster. 

“Isn’t this good? You need a new partner, Dick finally decided to call me back, and anyways, I thought you l-”

You don’t need to hear the rest of his sentence to know what he’s about to say. “I didn’t. And I don’t anymore.” Neither of you seem convinced, but at least it gets him to shut up. 

What pains you the most is you can’t even be mad at the older man. You can’t cry, or scream, or throw a tantrum like you were 9 again, because at the end of the day, this is the coach you had begged to take you on. The one who has been behind so many legends and basically built your career up from the ground. Had this been any other situation, any other person, besides the Boy Wonder himself, you would probably be on the verge of much happier tears. But you know, just like last time, he won’t be here to stay. And you don’t know how much more heartbreak you can take.

Before you get the chance to talk him out of it, a pair of footsteps joins you. Speak of the fucking devil.

It’s like they had planned some flanked attack, with Brian herding you towards the front of the building and Dick stepping in to cut you off as you’re about to make your grand escape. No idea, your ass. Brian knew you wouldn’t be able to say no if they had you cornered like this.

“Dick!” he exclaims, pushing past you to wrap the black-haired man in bear hug. Normally, you think you’d be hurt by how his face is practically illuminating (he had never greeted you like that before). But you have your own worries to deal with: namely, a heart that is currently trying to claw its way out of your throat and lungs that have forgotten how to inhale air. You think Brian might still be speaking, but if he is, you’ve tossed that all to the side in lieu of studying the man in front of you.

You make it a point not to meet his gaze, even as you feel him trying to meet yours. Perhaps it’s pride, perhaps it’s fear, but either way, you know as soon as you look at him, properly look at him, any objectivity will fly out the door.

So you settle for the obvious things. He’s taller, and his face is sharper, no longer rounded by baby fat. Even the spiky haircut you used to tease him for is grown out now. He looks good—but nothing like the boy you have enshrined in your memories. This isn’t the boy who would stay behind to help you practice your jumps. This isn’t the boy who would pack an extra lunch for you in case you forgot yours. This isn’t the boy you cried yourself to sleep over for months, the boy who almost made you quit the one thing you loved most in the world because the thought of skating alone made you want to hurl.

This? Him? It’s just a bitter reminder that figure skating wasn’t the only thing he left behind all those years ago. 

You think you hear the two of them discuss the technical details. Practice schedules, song choices, choreography—it all goes in one ear and out the other. It’s a conversation you have with the older man at the start of every season. An annual promise that that year would be the year you finally earn the recognition you had worked so hard for. 

Technically, everything had been perfect. Technically, you were good. Enough to consistently land a spot at the Grand Prix Final.

But not good enough for a medal. It was never enough. No matter how much training you did, how many extra jumps you crammed into your programs, how many partners you had cycled through. There was no use in denying it: after Dick had left, you hadn’t been the same skater.

It’s pathetic. Your crush had not only abandoned you at 14, but any hopes of even making it to the podium had been crushed then as well. And you hate that 10 years later, you still haven’t moved on. Not enough to say no to his offer. Because like it or not, chemistry is everything in pairs, and there’s nobody like him. There is nobody like Dick Grayson.

It’s silent now. They’re waiting for you. 

You finally look up to meet his gaze. “Okay, I’ll do it.” 

—

It’s too easy to fall back into step with Dick. He always greets you with a smile, brings you snacks before practice (homemade ones at that), and carries your bag to your car for you, even though you insist that you’re more than capable of doing it yourself. He’s certainly trying, but the more effort he puts in, the more you can’t help but resent him. 

His kindness is all just a means to an end for him. He’s buttering you up so your movements are less goddamn stiff when you’re next to him, so you at least vaguely resemble an evenly matched pair. You know from Brian that he’s only coming back because of a stupid bet he made with his brother. He’s just here to prove he can make it to the Olympics. Your childhood dream, what you’ve decided would be the sign that you’ve made it—to him, it’s just another achievement he can use to inflate his ego. The worst part about it is he’s good enough that he could genuinely make it happen that effortlessly. And once he’s satisfied with that, he’ll waltz out of your life just as quickly as he came in. 

So when he offers you a hand as you step out of the rink, when he happens to have an extra energy drink, when he suggests a “team bonding” dinner, you don’t accept. You’ll let yourself entertain him on the ice for the sake of the skate. But nothing more. 

At the very least, you can admit that your performance aspect has definitely improved since skating alongside Dick. You breeze through Eastern Regionals, then Skate Canada, then Skate America, and in no time at all, you’re at the Grand Prix Final: the one barrier you’ve always hit. 

The short goes even better than you imagined it would. Too good. You’ve seen the posts that the fans have made about the two of you, digging up old skating clips to support their theories about the two of you. There’s a poorly worded interview by Brian that does nothing but fuel the flames, and even some of the commentators have been talking about how good the two of you look together. All signs seem to be telling you that you have nothing to worry about; the two of you are perfect. They don’t understand that that’s exactly what you’re worried about. 

You don’t catch yourself until it’s too late. You’re slowly getting consumed by him—by his soft smiles and whispers of encouragement and stupid, stupid puns. You’re back where you started, feeling weightless as the two of you skate your free program, actually losing yourself to the music. There’s nothing to prove anymore; this isn’t a performance—this is just how it’s always meant to be. It should feel right. But it doesn’t, because you’re terrified that if you let yourself get comfortable in his embrace, you won’t be able to skate like this ever again.

You pop the triple Lutz. Then you go into an Euler and a double toe loop that’s under-rotated too. You don’t understand, your jumps have always been pristine, especially your doubles. You haven’t made a sloppy mistake like this in a while. The last time was when–

Shit, you’re too early into the step sequence, the turn too sharp at the corner. You meet his gaze repentantly, like that will absolve you of your guilt. You don’t know what emotion you’re expecting to find in eyes. Maybe anger? Frustration? That’s certainly how you feel at the moment. Whatever it is, it’s certainly not adoration. 

You want to ask him what the hell is going on, but there’s no time. Last move. Death spiral. You have to hold hands, and the contact makes your skin burn. You don’t have the heart to look at him again. You’re afraid of what you’re going to find.

Suddenly everything feels too tight: the rink, your chest, the skates around your feet. You have to get out of there. One revolution, two, three, four. You can hold on, it’s almost over. Another four. He pulls you back towards him. It’s your final pose. The two of you are chest to chest. 

You just have to hold this for a second, and then you’re free. You can do it. You can do it. And then he’s leaning in even closer, until his forehead is pressed against yours and your lips hovering over each other. 

You can’t do it anymore and all you can think about is how to get out of there. You don’t even bother to wait for your score; you’ll deal with Brian’s scolding later. But you know if you stay out there any longer, you won’t be able to scrape together what little sanity you still have left. 

You’re leaving. You have to leave.

And as you run back to the lockers, you realize somebody’s been calling out your name.

“Hey, wait! Is everything okay?” Of course, the one person you don’t want to see would follow you. “Why did you leave like that? Did I do something wrong?” His hand hovers over your arm for a moment before he pulls it away and you don’t know whether you should laugh or cry. He used to do it with practiced ease back when you were kids, when you would joke that he had cooties but let him do so all the same. Now, you’re not sure if you can stand his touch, and from the look on his face, it seems to break his heart.

”Nothing, let’s just forget about this.” You feel like you’re being strangled and it takes all of your energy not to burst into tears at the moment. 

”No,” he says softly. “No, I know you, I know you’re not okay. Please, let’s talk about this.” 

And suddenly, everything’s just too much. He’s acting too nice to you, like he actually cares. Like maybe the fervent glances and lingering touches on the ice mean more to him than just pandering to the judges. But you know he doesn’t, because then he wouldn’t have left.

You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. “No, you don’t know a single thing about me. So don’t act like you care about me now.”

”I do though!” 

“Bullshit. We’re not anything to each other.” 

His face crumples immediately. He takes a step back. This is the closest he’s ever been to tears.

On a kinder day, you’d take it all back. You’d apologize and beg for his forgiveness and he would be disgustingly kind like he always is and you could both forget about this. But you’re tired of dancing around the issue and you think there’s a sick part of you that revels in his pained expression. 

You take a step forward. “You’re just a coworker. This? This act where we pretend like we can stand to be in the same room as each other? This isn’t real. So stop acting like it is. You didn’t care about me when you left. So why the change now? Do you know how fucking hard it was for me to move on? I couldn’t even skate afterwards. I thought my career was over. And I’ve had to fight every single day to prove that—that I’m still a capable skater, that I have a place in this sport.” 

Your voice trembles, and it takes all of your strength to swallow the lump in your throat. “I had to fight to be able to skate without you. To have the courage to stand on the ice alone. So I’m sorry that I’m not willing to welcome you back with open arms, because I know this is just some stupid game to you. You’ll get to the Olympics, because of course you will, and I’ll get to ride on the coattails of that. And that will be the greatest moment of my career, but to you, it’s just another thing on your checklist. Then you’ll go back to whatever you decided is more worthy than m–” You choke on your own words. “Than skating. And I’ll have to pick up the broken pieces again. But frankly speaking, I don’t know if I can do that a second time.”

It’s dead silent, save for your panting. You feel like you just ran a marathon. And Dick? You can’t read him, and that’s what scares you the most.

”Forget it.” The silence is driving you insane, and you just start running your mouth. “Fuck, forget it. I should just be grateful you’re even my partner this season. It’s the only way I’ll make it to the Olympics. I know you’re thinking it, you and Brian—”

“Don’t say that.”

“—that’s why you left, isn’t it? Didn’t want to be tied down to a pathetic fucking loser.”

“I never said th—”

”I can’t blame you. I’d leave me too—“

“I DIDN’T LEAVE YOU!” 

Now you’re both silent. You’ve never heard him raise before. You’ve never seen him this desperate either. He’s shaking as he stands in front of you. “You’re right, I didn’t care about skating. It was always just a hobby to me. But I stayed because of you. Because I was young and stupid and in love and the only way I knew how to show you that was to skate with you. And it killed me when I had to quit, but I just…I saw how much passion you had for skating. Like it was the air you needed to breathe, but I knew I couldn’t dedicate myself to the sport like you could.. And you deserved a partner who would love skating as much as you do.”

You think your brain short circuits after “in love,” and if he says anything else after that, you certainly aren’t processing it. “…You loved me?”

Dick laughs like you’ve just asked if water is a liquid. ”Of course I did. Everybody knew it too. Brian used to tease me about the way I would look at you. And I figured I would finally tell you after I quit, in case it would make things awkward, but then…”

“I blocked you.” You whisper in horror. 

“Yeah, so I figured you didn’t want anything to do with me after that. I didn’t realize quitting meant I would lose you too.” 

And suddenly you’re 14 again, watching the boy you’ve had a crush on for over half of your life tell you that he doesn’t want to skate anymore, and you feel so small and so stupid. “Oh god. So all of those years…”

He nods, “I lied about the Olympics thing. Or well, I really did have a bet with Jason, but when Brian told me that you needed a new partner…I came back hoping it would be a chance to make it up to you.”

You’re still having a hard time wrapping your head around the fact that maybe Dick had genuinely been trying to make amends with you. “So you being nice wasn’t just for show or team-building or whatever?”

“Team-building? God, I don’t think there’s a world where I can love you in any other way.”

The first realization that he had loved you in the past had been enough to nearly give you a heart attack. But to hear love? In the present tense? You think back to how he’s been acting for the past few months. All of the weird incidents that you can’t just explain away by saying that he’s making fun of you or being civil to you as a teammate or just being nice because that’s how he is. 

Because there’s no other explanation for why he looks at you like you hung the stars in the sky, why he lifts you with a reverence that could rival the likes of Keats and Byron, why he lingers on the ice after every practice, like he’s chasing the last vestiges of your warmth. 

And you have so many words dancing on the tip of your tongue, ways in which you can lay down your heart for him as he has done for you. But both of you know that even this stolen moment is just that: stolen time.

”Shall we go back?” He offers you his hand evenly, but there’s a tremble in his voice that gives him away. Like he’s worried that even after all of this, there was a universe in which you still don’t reciprocate his feelings. 

Your heart is screaming at you to assure him, promise that yes of course, you would accept him. But the words evaporate from your mind before you have a chance to grasp onto them. So you hope that at the very least, your actions can convey a fraction of your feelings. Hand in hand, you make your way back to the rink. No matter what the result is, you think it’ll be alright if you have Dick’s shoulder to cry on after this is all over. 

—

“And with a free score of 129.44 and a final score of 205.57, that puts America’s own duo from Gotham at third place in the Grand Prix Final!” 

Third, the word echoes in your head, taking you a few moments to process. Third, and there were no other American teams on the podium. Sure, it isn’t exactly the most fairytale ending, but it’s better this way—more real. You turn to look at Dick, who you’re sure has the exact same look of astonishment that you do. You remember Brian doing the math before you guys had even made it to the venue. Based on this event and the rest of your results this season, it was clear that the two of you were the uncontested pair in the whole country. 

“You’re going to the Olympics!” Brian whoops, hugging the both of you and jumping for joy in a way you think only he can get away with. You’re grinning so hard your muscles are starting to twitch but honestly you could care less about that. All of the training, all of the sleepless nights had finally paid off, and you felt like you had really, truly made it. And the fact that you did it with Dick makes it all the sweeter to you. 

You got a medal, a boyfriend, and that day, the kiss and cry finally lived up to its name.

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[dark-dragon-8]

In case you guys couldn't tell, Dick Grayson, AKA Nightwing, is my favorite DC character. Specifically because I can just write/imagine him however way I want, within the realm of (fanon) reason, and someone will agree with me/there's already a fic about it.

Want to read about a murderous character? Nightwing has once killed the Joker and (as far as I know) didn't regret it. Not to mention Renegade also exists (along with former Talon AU, secret/resolved "killer" AU, where he kills but doesn't tell anyone, and more minor ones as well) and there are several fics where he takes on that alias in order to deal with some "unfinished business" regarding his family.

Want to read about an undercover character using their looks and flirting to their benefits (and having the attention of everyone at the bar by simply existing and being hot)? I have read so many undercover Dick Grayson that wore the sluttiest outfits just to get info. Even read a few where he did it to make his siblings (mainly Jason) more comfortable since they weren't comfortable with it yet that was his forte (regardless of whether or not he liked doing that as well).

Looking for a rich (kinda spoiled, an act, but still lovable and amazing) Nepo baby that everyone thirsts over in the gala? Richie Wayne is right there and is the eldest Wayne/heir, that's bound to cause some drama at parties/Galas (esp with protective Batfam) and I love that (please give me more fics like that, I can barely find any).

Want a badass vigilante that can beat the absolute life out of criminals and defeat Batman with relative ease? Nightwing is one of the strongest members of the Batfam, if I remember correctly he even defeated Cassandra/an opponent equal to Cassandra before.

Want to read an angst filled story about a character that feels like they're being objectified all the time and just wants a break? Do I even have to say it?

Want a character study about how the annoyed/stubborn/exhausted guy from the comics turned into an "attention whore" on fics? I remember reading (and even writing) character studies where Dick is suffering from stuff such as hypersexuality and anxiety issues where he needs people to see/notice/pay attention to him as a result of his sexual trauma (the assault & other stuff he went through).

And so much more. The duality of that man, when a character has such a variety of interpretations and ways to write about them it just fills that writer/storyteller/reader in me with joy. That complex potential that I seek in characters, like being able to kill someone while also being a hero loved by the hero community, a celebrity loved by the world and a few beyond it, a spoiled rich kid when he likes to indulge himself and a victim that has suffered through so much, it's natural to give them different ways (separation anxiety, exhibitionism, aversion to touch, etc) to cope and deal with the horrible hand that was given to them. It's just something that is very rare to come across in a character, especially one so well known and loved for all of those different things rather than only one or two of them taking over the entire character and its interpretation, and I really love Nightwing for being that character for both writers and readers looking for somethings and finding all they could ask for and more in just a singular tag (ofc I know the other characters have a variety as well, Dick just has such a big variety and his "spectrum" is so big, vast and versatile, he has a piece of the fandom for everything, like a bunch of different characters smacked into one, all sharing the same name, it's why I chose him specifically and why I love reading about him the most specifically).

[foerchen]

Next fic: bodyswap

Jason: *in Dick‘s body*

Jason: I feel awful. What is wrong with your body???

Tim: *absolutely obliterating a punching bag in Jason‘s body*

Dick: *looks affronted at Jason in his body*

Dick: My body is fine! What do you mean??? You aren‘t the one who needs to consume an unholy amount of caffeine to function!

Jason: I feel like someone is about to push me off a fucking cliff, Dickhead.

Dick: *grins suddenly*

Dick: Ohhhh. Lemme fix that for you, Little Wing.

Dick: *walks up to Jason and hugs him tightly*

Jason: *relaxes before tensing up*

Jason: WAIT. YOU NEED HUGS TO FUNCTION?!?!

(Next fic is in the works! o7 It isn’t the one I had originally planned cuz my brain went brrr. Have a good one, my lovely birdwatchers! <3)

((Edit: https://archiveofourown.org/works/59545189/chapters/151862587 ))

[ahqkas]

Do you think you could a reverse of you "attractive things they do without realizing" with the bat boys?

♯ ATTRACTIVE THINGS YOU DO . . . that make them go crazy ! — part 1

— fem!reader, suggestive thoughts, mention of reader’s hair

© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

BRUCE WAYNE

simply attending gala with him

the gala was in full swing, the soft hum of conversation and the tinkling of crystal glasses weaving through the grand hall. bruce wayne stood at the center of it all, the undisputed star of the evening, yet his focus wasn’t on the crowd. it was on you.

you stood beside him, your hand lightly wrapped around his forearm, a subtle yet intimate gesture that spoke things without saying a word. the way your fingers rested there, so effortlessly claiming him as yours, sent a warmth spreading through his chest—a feeling that, for once, wasn’t from the weight of responsibility or the burden of his double life. it was softer, lighter. it was you.

bruce’s sharp eyes, trained to assess every detail in a room, couldn’t help but linger on you. the dress you wore was nothing short of perfection—not that it could have been anything else. he had ensured it. every stitch, every line, every fold of fabric had been crafted with you in mind. he had selected the finest material, rich and smooth beneath the touch, ensuring it draped over your figure with the kind of elegance that turned heads the moment you stepped into a room.

the deep hue of the gown complemented his suit nicely, catching the light in subtle ways, as though it, too, was vying for his attention. the neckline framed your collarbones delicately, and the way the fabric hugged your form made it impossible for his mind not to wander to how well he knew every curve beneath. the gentle train swirled around your heels like liquid, moving with you in an almost hypnotic rhythm, every step making his heart beat just a little faster.

bruce had commissioned it specifically for you, worked with the designer himself to ensure it would fit you like a second skin—tailored to highlight everything he found most captivating about you. it wasn’t just vanity, though he’d be lying if he said he didn’t relish the way every person in the room couldn’t help but notice you. no, it was deeper than that. dressing you in the finest fabrics, wrapping you in elegance, was his way of saying what words often couldn’t: you’re extraordinary, and the world should know it.

to you, he wasn’t just bruce wayne, gotham’s elusive billionaire. he wasn’t the brooding vigilante who prowled the night. he was just . . . bruce. and in that moment, he felt more real, more whole, than he had in years.

he tilted his head slightly, glancing down at you, and his lips tugged into the faintest of smiles—a rare expression, softer than most would ever see. the subtle scent of your perfume reached him as you leaned closer to whisper something, your voice a low melody against the backdrop of the room. he didn’t even catch the words; he was too lost in the curve of your smile, the way your lashes brushed your cheeks when you blinked, the warmth of your touch radiating through the fabric of his suit.

his thoughts betrayed him, wandering ahead to a quieter moment later, when the gala was over, and it was just the two of you again. but for now, he stood tall, the perfect host, his hand moving to cover yours on his arm. his thumb brushed against your knuckles, a silent gesture of affection and gratitude. he didn’t say it aloud—he didn’t need to—but he was thinking it with every fiber of his being: you’re the most beautiful thing in this room, and you don’t even know it.

seeing you work at his office

bruce leaned back in his leather chair, the polished desk between you serving as the only barrier to his unraveling thoughts. you stood on the other side, flipping through a file with the kind of focus that made his chest tighten, utterly oblivious to the effect you were having on him. the pencil skirt you wore hugged your hips in a way that felt almost sinful, every line and contour designed to torment him. the fabric clung just right, emphasizing the curve of your waist and the sway of your body each time you shifted. and then there was the blouse—white, crisp, and perfectly fitted, the faintest hint of skin peeking where the buttons strained against your figure. it was driving him to the edge.

the sharp click of your heels echoed softly as you moved around the room, your voice calm and professional as you recounted details of a recent meeting, flipping a page in the file without missing a beat. but bruce wasn’t listening. not really. his gaze followed the way your fingers smoothed the papers, delicate but deliberate, and his mind betrayed him. those same hands . . . what would they feel like tangled in his hair, tugging him closer? or splayed against his chest, nails dragging lightly as he pressed you against the wall?

he shifted in his seat, jaw tightening as he tried to force himself back to the present. but it was impossible. the way the soft material of your blouse tucked into that pencil skirt left just enough to the imagination while teasing at everything he wanted to do to you. his mind raced ahead, envisioning the fabric bunched around your hips, your voice losing its composed edge as he silenced every word with his lips

you glanced up at him suddenly, your eyes catching his, and for a moment, his composure faltered. his sharp blue gaze was darker now, focused entirely on you with an intensity that made your breath hitch. his tongue darted across his bottom lip, slow and deliberate, as he leaned forward, elbows resting on the desk, his fingers steepled beneath his chin.

“are you almost finished?”

“just a few more minutes.”

his thoughts raced ahead, imagining the way your name would sound falling from his lips, low and rough, as he pulled you into his lap. how your soft gasps would fill the room, mingling with the shuffle of papers and the creak of leather as his control finally slipped. bruce’s mind was already plotting, already deciding just how many minutes he’d let you finish your work before he gave in.

DICK GRAYSON

the quiet hum of the city filtered through the slightly cracked window, the distant sounds of gotham settling into the night. dick sat cross-legged on the couch, his hair still damp from a quick shower after patrol, wearing a loose gray shirt and sweatpants. you were tucked into the corner of the couch, legs pulled up to your chest with your arms wrapped around them, your chin resting on your knees. there was something so effortlessly comfortable about the way you curled into yourself, the soft glow of the lamp painting your features in warm hues.

he couldn’t help but let his eyes linger, caught by the way the corners of your lips curved into a gentle smile as you listened to him recount something ridiculous wally had said earlier. it wasn’t just your smile, though it always had a way of knocking the air out of his lungs—it was the way your gaze stayed fixed on him, warm and attentive, like he was the only thing that mattered in the world right now.

“are you even listening?” he teased, leaning forward slightly, his elbows resting on his knees as he tilted his head to catch your gaze more fully.

you laughed softly, a sound that melted into the quiet of the room like it belonged there. “i am,” you insisted, shifting slightly to prop your chin higher on your knees, the movement drawing his attention to the curve of your bare shoulders beneath the oversized sweatshirt you were wearing—his sweatshirt, he realized with a pang of fondness.

“good,” he said, his voice softer now, his lips curving into an easy smile. but he didn’t pick up where he left off. instead, he found himself studying the little things: the way your hair framed your face, the way your eyes glimmered with quiet amusement, the small, almost unconscious sway of your head as you rested against your knees.

“don’t stop,” you murmured, your smile widening.

dick chuckled, shaking his head. “i wasn’t sure if my story could compete with . . . well, you,” he said, his tone light but tinged with the kind of sincerity that always made your chest tighten.

“flatterer,” you teased, but the way your cheeks warmed didn’t escape him.

when you arch your back in a chair

he had only meant to grab a drink and check in with you, but the second he entered the room and saw you sitting at the table, all coherent thought vanished. he froze in place, his gaze drawn to you like a moth to a flame. you were leaning forward in your chair, your elbows braced on the table and your back arched just slightly as you studied whatever had your focus. it was innocent—completely unintentional—but to him, it was anything but.

the way your shirt clung to your frame as you bent forward made his mouth go dry, the curve of your back teasing him in ways that had his imagination running wild. his eyes lingered on the dip of your waist, the way the soft fabric stretched just enough over your hips, and he couldn’t stop his mind from wandering further—thinking about how easy it would be to step behind you, trail his hands down that arch, and pull you closer.

dick swallowed hard, forcing himself to look away, but it was hopeless. his gaze snapped back to you as if on instinct, and this time, it wasn’t just the curve of your back that had his attention. it was the way your body moved, every subtle shift of your weight making his thoughts spiral deeper. he could almost feel the press of your skin against his palms, the heat of you beneath his hands as he tipped you just slightly further forward . . .

jesus, get it together, grayson, he thought, dragging a hand through his hair and trying to clear his head. but the damage was done, and now every inch of him was on edge, his pulse thrumming in his ears. it wasn’t fair how effortlessly you drove him crazy—how just existing could send his thoughts careening into territory that made him shift uncomfortably in place.

you glanced up suddenly, breaking him out of his haze. “hey, you good?” you asked, your brows furrowing slightly in concern.

the sound of your voice jolted him back to reality, though his heart was still racing. “fine,” he managed, his voice just a little rougher than usual. he rubbed the back of his neck, trying to play it cool despite the heat simmering beneath his skin.

but you weren’t convinced. there was a hint of amusement in your eyes as you leaned back slightly in your chair, giving him that knowing smile that always made his knees weak. “you sure?”

dick’s jaw clenched as you shifted again, his gaze flickering down to the curve of your waist before he caught himself. stop it. stop it right now. but then you tilted your head, and that damn teasing glint in your eyes told him you knew exactly what you were doing.

he took a step forward, bracing a hand on the table as he leaned down, his face suddenly inches from yours. his voice was low, rough, almost a growl. “you’re making it really hard to concentrate, you know that?”

JASON TODD

adjusting your skirt

jason had been leaning against the doorway, half distracted by his own thoughts, when the sight of you adjusting your skirt snapped his attention to full focus. you were standing in front of the mirror, tugging at the waistband and wiggling it higher on your hips, a casual, innocent motion meant to get the fit just right. but to him, it was anything but casual. his eyes locked on you, darkening as he watched the way the fabric shifted, sliding up the curve of your thighs with each subtle movement.

jesus christ, he thought, jaw tightening as he tried to tear his gaze away. he failed. the small adjustment—the roll of your hips, the way your hands smoothed the material over your figure—felt like it was designed to torment him. he muttered a quiet curse under his breath, barely audible but enough to let his frustration escape.

that little motion shouldn’t have had this kind of hold over him, but it did. the way you moved, so natural and effortless, made his mind wander to places it shouldn’t. his fingers twitched at his sides as he imagined stepping behind you, sliding his hands over yours to help—not that you needed it, but damn if he wouldn’t enjoy it anyway.

you turned slightly and caught his reflection in the mirror, green eyes shooting up to meet yours as if he hadn’t been blatantly staring. “everything okay, jay?”

jason cleared his throat. “yeah,” he said, though his voice was rougher than usual, betraying him. he crossed his arms over his chest, leaning heavier into the doorway, his tongue darting across his bottom lip as his gaze flicked down again. “just . . . keep doing what you’re doing.”

you have him a look—equal parts amused and curious—but went back to adjusting the skirt, smoothing it out once more. jason bit the inside of his cheek, forcing himself to stay put instead of crossing the room, grabbing your hips, and showing you exactly what that little movement of yours did to him.

this woman’s gonna be the death of me, he thought, his pulse hammering as he pushed off the doorway, muttering another curse under his breath. he needed to walk away before he did something reckless—something that would guarantee you wouldn’t be leaving that room anytime soon.

when you rant to him

jason leaned back on the couch, arms draped lazily over the backrest, but his focus was anything but casual. his eyes were locked on you as you paced the room, hands gesturing wildly while you went off on a rant about something that had you fired up. he couldn’t even remember how the conversation started—it didn’t matter. what mattered was the light in your eyes, the way your whole face animated with every word, and the fire in your voice as you got lost in your thoughts.

there was something magnetic about the way you threw yourself into it, like the world disappeared except for the thing you were so passionate about. it didn’t even matter if he understood half of what you were saying—though he was trying, really, he was—but he couldn’t look away from you long enough to focus on the details. he was too caught up in the way your brows furrowed slightly when you were deep in thought, or the way your lips curved when you hit on a point you knew was good.

and that voice. it was captivating, filled with conviction and energy, a side of you that came alive when you cared about something. jason’s heart thudded in his chest as he watched you, a small, crooked smile tugging at his lips.

every now and then, you’d glance at him to make sure he was keeping up, and he’d give a small nod, biting back the urge to say something dumb like, i’m not paying attention to your words, but i’m hanging on every second of you. instead, he’d murmur a quiet “yeah,” or “makes sense,” just to keep you talking.

but, damn, the way your whole body moved when you were this invested—it sent his mind places. there was a certain confidence in it, an unintentional sway in your steps as you walked back and forth, your gestures strong but graceful. it drove him crazy in the best way, made him want to grab you mid-rant, pull you onto his lap, and kiss you senseless just to see if that fire would transfer to him.

ADDITIONAL NOTE! if you like my work , please consider reblogging and / or commenting ! thank you if you do 🤍

[hanasnx]

Okay, but making a movie with Dick? Umm yes, please. I know he'd put any director to shame. Man handles you into whatever position he needs for the best angle. Definitely invests in that wearable phone holder that goes around the neck, because obvs he needs two hands to do the things he needs to do. Tells you to smile for the camera and honestly you can't even watch the playback because you're truly ashamed of how fucked out and messy your face looks covered in cum, spit, and whatever other fluids decided to join the party

MINORS DNI 18+

NOTES: DC is for December Event!

If you’d have known what you looked like through the lens of his phone, you never would’ve agreed to this. It’s not some kind of perfect porno with professional lighting and a director who’s going for look rather than feel. This is about as unflattering as it gets and that’s part of the appeal for DICK GRAYSON.

All of your rolls of flesh pronounced by the impossible positions he puts you in; all the pitchy and real sounds that come from deep in your gut; all the layers of fluid coating your face—none of it you would’ve wanted documented. Yet, that’s exactly the kind of stuff Dick wants to see, and exactly the kind of fuel he wants for later when he’s missing you and his hand’s around his cock.

The flash of his camera lights up your expression coated in the semi-transparent cocktail. He grins at the screen, Like diamonds, he thinks. You look like dazzling glittery stars. “You did so good for me, baby, jus’ hold it right there.” he coaches, and if your lashes weren’t weighed down by gluey cum you’d be able to see his giddy countenance practically gloating to you that he’s gonna keep this video forever. Instead, you can hear that husky snicker in his voice when he feels particularly devious. “Never looked prettier. Smile for me? Real big- as big as you can.” Sarcastically, you stretch your lips, performing a big toothy grin for him to mirror his. He can tell it’s time for you to go wash off, annoyed by the rapidly cooling glisten on your face, and he straightens to his full height, pocketing his phone. “Ah, alright. You’re off the hook. Let me grab you a towel.”

[solar-wing]

⚣ Shadowing Nightwing 🌗

🌃 Nightwing & Shadow 🌃 | 🌙 Nightwing's Shadow 🌙 |

⚣🌗 A/N → yall... i- i have no words for this. Final installment of the rewritten Nightwing & Shadow series. Hard to believe I first did this story over a year and a half ago and I'm just now finishing the third installment of the new version of it. And since it took so long, I decided to go all out...and I do mean all out. Someone get me to a church. ANYWAY, I hope you guys enjoy this! no i seriously do cause this right here is NAAAUUSSSSTTYYY! WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI | Omegaverse | Yandere Themes| Heavy Themes of Dub/Non-Con | Coercion | Finger Play | Oral Play | Full Smut | Manhandling | M-PREG | Knotting | Captivity | Mild Descriptive Violence | Mentions of Abortion | Heavy Implication of Gender Roles | ETC |

⚣🌗 Summary → Shadow, once a beacon of justice and independence for Omegas everywhere, has been reduced to nothing more than a subservient house Omega under the suffocating control of Dick Grayson. Living beneath the relentless gaze of Nightwing and Batman isn’t for the faint of heart—but they’re about to learn the hard way that Gotham’s Omega Savior is far stronger than they ever gave him credit for. After all, a shadow doesn’t just follow—it leads, outpacing those who underestimate it.

⚣🌗 Words → 15.4K (Post) | 45.3K (Total)

REBLOGS & replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛

⚣ ENJOY 🌗

Y/N lay on his side, staring blankly through the window from the grand canopy bed in one of the many guest suites in Wayne Manor. The sheets were soft, expensive, and suffocating. Dick had insisted on carrying him all the way up here after their first heated "reunion" in the bathroom. Even now, Y/N’s body ached from the aftermath—his abused genitals throbbing with soreness and unwanted arousal.

The bedroom door creaked open, breaking Y/N from his haze. Dick strolled in, his casual confidence evident in every step. He was dressed down now, only in a pair of sweatpants with no shirt, but his presence was no less oppressive. His smile was soft, but his eyes were filled with that familiar, possessive hunger.

“How are you feeling, baby?” Dick asked, his tone low, almost tender.

Y/N clenched his jaw, refusing to respond. He’d learned that silence was his only weapon in this warped power dynamic. But the Omega’s silence didn’t seem to faze Dick—if anything, it seemed to amuse him. He approached the bed, settling himself on the edge beside Y/N, his hand reaching out to stroke Y/N’s hair.

“You’re still mad,” Dick observed with a chuckle, his fingers trailing down to caress Y/N’s cheek. “But that’s okay. You’ll get used to it here. To me.”

The Omega's skin burned under the Alpha's touch, and his stomach twisted in a mix of anger and disgust. Y/N jerked his head away, his voice strained. “That’s what you think. If you think abduction and holding me hostage are elements of a loving relationship, you and your family are more delusional and detached from reality than I could believe.”

Dick’s smile faded slightly, but his eyes remained dark and determined. “I know you think that now, but things change, Y/N. You’ll see. You just need to accept it.”

Y/N felt a surge of defiance swell within him. “Accept what? Being your prisoner? Your breeding stock?”

Dick’s expression hardened, and he leaned closer, his lips hovering near Y/N’s ear. “Accept that you’re mine, Y/N. You were always meant to be.” He pulled back, his tone softening again, almost coaxing. “And I’ll do whatever it takes to make you see that.”

Y/N's eyes narrowed, feeling a fierce determination flaring within him as he stared into the Alpha’s cocky gaze. He knew he couldn’t react, couldn’t fight back, at least not yet. As much as everything inside of him wanted to be anywhere but where he was at that moment, he was well aware that things would not be that simple or easy.

This was of course the Dark Knight, and his long-time sidekick he was dealing with.

The door opened again, and Bruce entered, his presence as commanding as ever. Speak of the devil…

“I trust you’re settling in,” he said, his gaze shifting between Dick and Y/N. His voice was calm but authoritative—a reminder of the invisible chains that bound Y/N to this manor.

“Oh, it’s an adjustment,” Y/N replied tersely, his voice betraying the dull, persistent ache in his lower regions—a testament to the rough "welcome" he'd endured just minutes ago on the cold porcelain counter. The soreness was mingled with an irritating warmth, a reminder of the Alpha’s invasive presence still lingering inside him.

Dick’s eyes glinted with pride as he picked up on the Omega’s resentful arousal. He said nothing, but his hand found its way to Y/N’s thigh, his fingers pressing down firmly. Y/N’s body tensed instantly, a sharp breath escaping him as he fought the urge to pull away. Bruce’s eyebrow arched at the sight, but he remained silent, satisfied with the subtle exchange.

Bruce nodded, his expression a mix of stern authority and old-fashioned pragmatism. “Good. We’ll give you time to settle in. I’ll have movers bring over your belongings from your apartment, and you can make this room your own. It’s important that you feel at home here—both for your own adjustment and for the future we envision.”

He turned to Dick, his tone shifting to that of a strict father setting boundaries. “Dick, you’ll be returning to Blüdhaven for a while, to give Y/N the necessary space to process his new surroundings. I expect you to sleep in your own room tonight and not push things too far, too fast.”

Too late for that.

Y/N’s chest tightened with a mixture of relief and dread, knowing that Bruce’s orders were likely temporary and primarily symbolic. It was less about respect for Y/N’s needs and more about enforcing his own twisted version of order. Still, he forced a nod, keeping his face neutral.

Bruce’s gaze returned to Y/N, his eyes sharp but not unkind. “As for returning to the field as Shadow, that won’t be happening right away. I believe it’s best for you to focus on adjusting to your role here—accepting Dick as your Alpha and, in time, embracing your place as an Omega. I know it’s not what you’re used to, but there are certain… expectations when it comes to family, structure, and tradition. I want you to take this time to understand that before we reintroduce you to the dangers of vigilante work.”

Y/N's stomach churned at Bruce’s words. The idea of being kept away from the field, especially under the pretense of “adjusting to his role,” was suffocating. It wasn’t just about him being Shadow—it was about keeping Y/N contained, trapped in a place designed to break him down and remold him to fit their desires. This was as much about control as it was about protection—protection from what, Y/N wasn’t even sure anymore. He simply nodded again, knowing full well that compliance was his only path forward.

“Fine,” Y/N agreed, his tone deliberately flat.

Bruce’s gaze remained steady as if assessing the Omega’s compliance. Satisfied, he nodded. “Good. I’ll see you both in the morning. Alfred starts breakfast by 7 so I’ll expect you both down there promptly. Dick, behave..”

Dick’s jaw tensed, a flicker of defiance flashing in his eyes, but he nodded, though it was clear the agreement was reluctant.

After Bruce left and closed the door behind him, Dick, seemingly content with Y/N’s outward submission, stepped closer. “Come on, Y/N,” he said softly, his voice layered with false gentleness as he extended a hand. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Y/N resisted the urge to pull away, but he took the offered hand, letting himself be pulled off the bed and led into the adjoining bathroom. It was lavish and expansive, much like the rest of the manor, with a large marble shower already running, steam billowing around them.

Dick sat Y/N gently on the bathroom counter, his hands lingering on Y/N’s thighs, thumbs tracing the flesh possessively. Y/N clenched his jaw, trying to ignore the ache in his groin—a mix of soreness and lingering arousal from earlier. The Alpha’s scent was thick in the air, mingling with the steam, amplifying Y/N’s conflicted arousal. Dick’s touch was deceptively soft, as he helped Y/N out of his ruined suit, peeling away the fabric to reveal marked skin.

Once Y/N was fully exposed, Dick’s gaze lingered over the bruises and love bites scattered across the Omega’s body. He leaned in, pressing soft kisses to each mark, his voice low with a mix of apology and pride. “I know it’s a lot, but you wear them so well, baby.”

Y/N remained silent, his body tense, as Dick lifted him from the counter and carried him bridal-style into the shower. The water was hot, stinging against the sensitive spots on Y/N’s skin. Dick began to wash Y/N’s body with deliberate care, his hands rougher than necessary as they explored every inch of the Omega’s form. Y/N’s body responded, unwillingly, a traitorous heat pooling between his thighs. Dick’s fingers lingered there, massaging the slit between his legs slowly, his thumb teasing the slits while his other hand groped the small phallus organ that pulse slightly under his large grip..

Y/N tried to suppress a gasp, but the soft sound escaped him, earning a pleased hum from Dick. “See? You can’t help it. Your body knows who you belong to,” Dick murmured against Y/N’s ear, his voice filled with possessive satisfaction.

Y/N bit down on his lip, his hatred for Dick intensifying. He hated how his own body betrayed him, responding to the Alpha’s touch with a mix of desperation and resentment. The humiliation of it all only fueled his silent resolve: he’d find a way out of this, no matter what.

When the shower was done, Dick carried Y/N back to the room, giving him a rare moment of privacy. “You can dry off and lotion up,” he said, stepping back and out of the room with a promise to return swiftly.

Y/N took the opportunity to quickly dry himself and apply lotion, his movements efficient but hurried. As he finished, Dick returned with a pair of boxers and one of his shirts, laying them out on the bed. “Here, put these on,” the Alpha instructed, a smirk forming on his lips as his eyes roamed over Y/N’s vulnerable form, his gaze filled with an obsession that felt suffocating. “I want you to smell like me.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, suspicious of the Alpha’s intentions, but he took the clothes without argument. Dick turned around to give him a semblance of privacy, though Y/N could see the Alpha watching through the reflection of the large window in the room. Y/N quickly changed, the shirt and boxers feeling too intimate against his skin, the scent of Dick overpowering.

When he was done, he cleared his throat, signaling to Dick. The Alpha turned, his expression softening slightly as he approached Y/N. He leaned down, their faces inches apart, pressing a slow, possessive kiss to the Omega’s lips, his hand resting possessively on Y/N’s knee. Y/N didn’t return the kiss but maintained eye contact—an act of defiance that Dick acknowledged with a knowing smile.

“I humored you this time,” Dick said, his voice low. “But remember, I don’t need permission to look at your body. It, and you, belong to me.”

He suddenly yanked Y/N down onto the bed, positioning himself between Y/N’s legs. Y/N gasped at the unexpected motion, his legs spreading involuntarily, the heat of Dick’s body radiating against his own.

“Got that, babe?” Dick murmured, his lips pressing against the junction of Y/N’s neck and shoulder, right where his scent gland pulsed. He nipped at the skin, his teeth leaving a small, possessive mark.

“Got it,” Y/N gritted out, his fingers clenching into the sheets, his anger growing alongside the persistent, frustrating arousal.

Dick chuckled, his mouth curling into a cruel smile. “That’s my good boy.” He pulled Y/N up toward the head of the bed, positioning himself between Y/N and the door as he tucked them both under the covers, clearly disregarding Bruce’s faux order to sleep in his own bed. “Tim and Damian will help unpack your things tomorrow. Jason’s keeping an eye on your old place, so nothing goes missing—and maybe, in the future, we can go back there. Invite your old friend over, just so he can hear me fucking you against the door.”

Despite the crude words, a traitorous pool of arousal gathered in Y/N’s stomach, his body responding against his will. But beneath that, simmering beneath the surface, was a cold and calculated rage—a plan slowly forming in his mind.

Dick’s eyes flashed with a dangerous mix of victory and excitement as they lay on the soft, expensive sheets. “This is all I need, baby. Just you… here, with me.” He reached out, his hand resting possessively on Y/N’s thigh, his grip firm and claiming.

Y/N’s skin crawled at the touch, but he forced himself to remain still. He would endure this for as long as it took—until he could finally break free.

He’d get out of this. He’d get his revenge. And when he did, it would be slow, humiliating, and thorough.

Days blurred into weeks, and weeks into months. Y/N settled into a strange routine, with Dick constantly shifting between obsessive affection and domineering control. Whenever Dick was around, he oscillated between being tender and aggressive—bringing Y/N flowers one moment, only to pin him against the wall and rut into him the next. Nights were filled with rough, claiming sex, where Dick alternated between slow, sensual thrusts and raw, relentless fucking, always asserting dominance over Y/N’s body.

Whenever Dick left for Blüdhaven, Y/N felt a fleeting sense of relief. The days alone in Wayne Manor gave him moments of reprieve, but they were never truly free of surveillance. Alfred, true to Bruce’s orders, kept a watchful eye, making sure Y/N stayed within the designated rooms and didn’t do anything “out of line.” Meanwhile, Bruce’s strict regimen remained unwavering. He reminded Y/N of his role—both as Dick’s Omega and as a future asset to the Bat-Family.

Y/N’s introductions to the rest of the family were tense and calculated. Tim approached him with clinical curiosity, often observing Y/N’s behavior while trying to maintain an air of aloofness. Damian was less subtle, his disdain evident but mixed with a strange fascination—curiosity, perhaps, about how someone could challenge Dick’s claim so defiantly. Jason, surprisingly, was the least invasive, only stepping in occasionally, as if the whole ordeal bored him.

Despite the façade of family acceptance, Y/N’s presence remained a source of underlying tension. Everyone noticed that the bond between Dick and Y/N wasn’t taking hold as expected. The Omega’s stubborn resistance to Dick’s advances was palpable, his hatred simmering just beneath the surface. It wasn’t lost on Bruce, who often reminded Dick of his responsibility to “tame” Y/N, using the Omega’s reluctance as fuel to justify the invasive measures to come.

As time dragged on, it became clear to Dick's family that Y/N wasn’t relenting. His resistance gnawed at Dick’s patience, and the Alpha’s attempts at romantic gestures grew increasingly desperate. His frustrations were visible—every unreciprocated kiss, every empty “I love you,” only fueled the darkness within him. And as Y/N remained indifferent, the seed of an idea began to take root in Dick’s mind—one that Bruce subtly encouraged: ensuring Y/N’s loyalty by breeding him.

Though, it wouldn't go as expected.

Dick had been gone in Blüdhaven and for other missions for some time, far too long in his own head while Y/N would argue that it wasn't long enough. The night of his return, he'd opted out of patrol for that night, instead volunteering to give Alfred of reprieve from monitoring the Bat-Computer and the comms along with the Omega. Bruce figured it was a good idea as a way to start getting Y/N acclimated to their operation and procedures even if he still hadn't relented on letting him return as Shadow yet.

That's when it began.

Y/N had reluctantly accompanied Dick, who insisted that he wanted to “spend time together.” Dick was stationed at the Bat-Computer, coordinating comms and responding to Batman’s orders while Y/N sat beside him, scrolling through his phone. The space was dimly lit, filled with the soft hum of machinery and Dick’s occasional typing.

Dick, sensing Y/N’s boredom, pulled him closer, grinning when Y/N tried to inch his chair away. “Why do you always do this, baby?” Dick teased, his hands tugging Y/N onto his lap. Y/N squirmed in protest, but the motion only seemed to excite Dick more, as the hard length beneath Y/N’s thighs made clear.

“You know,” Dick began, his voice low, almost tender, “I can’t wait for when we have traditions like this—monitoring the city together, planning missions side by side.” His words dripped with longing. “Maybe our kids will take after us someday, running comms while you and I are out in the field.”

Y/N stiffened, his back rigid against Dick’s chest. The Alpha’s words struck a chord, one filled with implications Y/N wasn’t ready to face. “I’m serious,” Dick continued, pressing soft kisses along Y/N’s neck. “We’ll have a big house, kids who’ll inherit our skills. I’ll be the best dad—always making sure you’re happy and safe.”

Y/N tried to ignore the warmth pooling in his stomach, a traitorous reaction to Dick’s fantasies. He focused on his phone, willing himself not to respond, but Dick’s hands began to wander. Gentle caresses turned into possessive strokes, and soon Y/N found himself pinned against the Bat-Computer, his thin sweats pulled down to his ankles.

Dick thrust into Y/N slowly at first, relishing every inch as he filled the Omega, his hands gripping Y/N’s thighs to keep him in place. The slick sounds filled the cavernous room, mingling with Y/N’s soft whimpers as Dick’s pace gradually increased. Y/N tried to focus on the dull glow of the monitors, tried to detach himself from the overwhelming sensations, but it was impossible. Dick’s voice was a constant murmur in his ear—equal parts loving and possessive.

“You feel so good, baby,” Dick groaned, his movements becoming more forceful. “I love how wet you get for me.”

Y/N’s body reacted despite himself, his insides clenching around the Alpha’s cock. The humiliation only fueled his anger, but it also fed into his arousal—a maddening mix that left him trapped between hate and want. Dick’s thrusts grew erratic, his desire for control evident in every rough stroke.

Dick paused suddenly, leaning back just enough to observe Y/N’s body. His gaze darkened, a smug grin curling his lips as he noted something amiss. “You know, you haven’t leaked for me in a while,” he taunted, his voice dripping with cruel amusement. He ran his thumb teasingly over one of Y/N’s nipples, as if to draw out the desired response. “Not a drop. What happened, baby? Are you so mad at me that your body’s forgotten how to be a good little Omega?”

The mockery in his tone only added to Y/N’s humiliation, but before he could respond, Dick’s demeanor shifted, and the Alpha pulled back just enough to look Y/N directly in the eyes, a dark intensity replacing his earlier gentleness. “You’ve been keeping secrets from me, haven’t you?” he demanded, his voice low and dangerous.

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat, confusion and fear mingling in his gaze. “What are you talking about?”

Dick’s hand suddenly moved to grip Y/N’s arm—one that housed the small contraceptive implant. He squeezed it roughly, his fingers digging into the flesh. “This,” he growled, the word dripping with accusation. “When were you planning to tell me about this little device, hmm?”

Shock and dread washed over Y/N. Shit. He tried to pull his arm away, but Dick’s grip was unrelenting. “How—how did you know about it,” Y/N managed to ask, his voice barely a whisper.

Dick’s smile was cruel, filled with both satisfaction and anger. “Oh, baby, did you forget whose family you're part of now? Did you really think you could hide something like this from us, from me?”

Y/N’s throat tightened, and he struggled to find the words. “It’s not—”

“Not what?” Dick interrupted, his voice cold. “Not something meant to keep you from giving me what I want? From fulfilling your role as my Omega?”

Y/N’s eyes burned with unshed tears, a mix of rage and helplessness. “It’s my body, Dick. I get to decide.”

But the Alpha wasn’t listening. His free hand moved to Y/N’s throat, holding him firmly but not enough to restrict his breathing. “Not anymore,” he hissed. “You belong to me, Y/N. Every part of you.”

Dick’s thrusts resumed, but this time they were brutal, driven by a need to reassert his control. Y/N gasped at the intensity, his body jolting with each thrust, the computer’s edge digging into his back. Dick’s hand moved from Y/N’s throat to his jaw, forcing Y/N to meet his gaze. “I’m going to have it removed,” he declared, his voice filled with dark promise. “And then we’ll see how long it takes for you to accept your real place here.”

Y/N’s hatred for Dick solidified in that moment. This wasn’t just about domination—it was about breaking him completely, about taking away even the smallest semblance of control he had left. But Y/N vowed silently: he wouldn’t break, not like this. He’d find a way to use even this violation to fuel his escape, to strengthen his resolve.

But it was a bitter comfort in the face of what was to come. The weeks following the discovery of his contraceptive implant would be some of the darkest Y/N had ever endured. Dick's anger was palpable, simmering beneath every interaction, his obsessive need to dominate Y/N now mixed with betrayal. The Alpha’s desire for control grew more aggressive, his touches rougher, his demands more insistent. Where once there was the occasional hint of tenderness, there was now only a relentless, violent hunger.

Dick’s need to assert dominance over Y/N became brutal and unrelenting. He fucked Y/N whenever and wherever the urge struck—against walls, across tables, even in the middle of the night while Y/N slept. Dick's hand would clamp down over Y/N’s mouth, silencing any protest, and his hips would thrust with a single-minded need to remind Y/N of who owned him. Y/N’s body bore the marks of this unending battle: bruises, bites, and the ever-present soreness that followed each rough encounter.

At first, Y/N fought back fiercely, swinging between rage and disgust at the Alpha’s behavior. But resistance only seemed to heighten Dick's obsession, making him more desperate, more cruel. Dick’s eyes glinted with a dark satisfaction whenever Y/N struggled, as if every ounce of defiance was just further confirmation of the Omega’s need to be “broken.” Eventually, Y/N's resistance waned—not because his spirit was crushed, but because he understood that biding his time was his only option. He could no longer afford to waste energy fighting back physically; he needed to play the long game.

But a near breaking point came with the decision to remove the contraceptive implant. After discovering it, Dick wasted no time in making arrangements. Within days, Bruce had called in a favor with one of his surgeon contacts, setting the wheels in motion for a rushed, unsanctioned surgery. Y/N’s protests were loud and filled with rage—this violation was a line even Dick hadn’t crossed before, a forced act that stripped away the last shred of Y/N’s bodily autonomy.

“You can’t do this!” Y/N shouted as he was restrained by Bruce and Tim, the sterile scent of the operating room mixed with the sickly sweet smell of his own fear.

Dick’s expression was cold, determined. “You don’t get to decide that anymore,” he said flatly, his eyes devoid of their usual playful arrogance. “Not when you kept this from me.”

The procedure itself was quick but traumatic, the pain both physical and symbolic. As the surgeon removed the implant, Y/N felt an overwhelming sense of helplessness wash over him, like a final tether to his autonomy being severed. Tears burned at the corners of his eyes, but he refused to let them fall, biting down on his lip so hard that he tasted blood.

In the days following, Y/N was a mix of raw pain and seething rage. But amidst the anguish, there was a small, bitter hope—a sense that this forced change might actually work in his favor. Behind his flushed cheeks and angered breaths, the embers of his hatred burned hotter than ever. He would use this moment—this twisted, unwanted intimacy—to stoke his plan for revenge.

After the removal of his IUD, it wasn’t long before the familiar, overwhelming warmth flooded his veins, turning his thoughts hazy with lust. His scent, which had been muted and suppressed for so long, became potent—thick, heady, and impossible to ignore. The air in the room turned cloying with pheromones, the distinctive musk signaling his vulnerability as an Omega.

The scent reached Dick almost immediately, his nostrils flaring as he inhaled the potent aroma. The Alpha’s reaction was instant and primal, his pupils dilating as a rush of possessive desire surged through him. Y/N’s heat had triggered an impromptu rut, the feral side of Dick emerging with brutal force. His muscles tensed, every instinct urging him to claim Y/N thoroughly and completely.

Dick wasted no time. With a guttural growl, he grabbed Y/N and effortlessly hoisted him over his shoulder, his grip firm around the Omega’s thighs. Y/N let out a startled gasp, his body trembling from the sudden shift in position and the Alpha's dominating hold. Dick’s hand landed possessively on Y/N’s ass, a rough squeeze meant to both assert control and savor the Omega’s helplessness. The position only intensified Y/N’s arousal, the heat of his slick seeping through his underwear as he was carried like prey by his captor.

The room spun in Y/N’s vision as he dangled over Dick’s shoulder, the Alpha’s hand stroking the back of his thigh possessively. “You smell so fucking good, baby,” Dick rumbled, his voice thick with desire. “I’m going to take you apart.”

Every step sent jolts of stimulation through Y/N’s channel, his arousal heightened by the rough handling. His hands instinctively clutched at Dick’s back, his fingers digging into the taut muscles beneath the fabric of the Alpha’s black shirt.

“Put me down, Dick,” Y/N managed to protest weakly, but the heat-induced haze made it sound more like a plea than a demand.

“Oh, I will,” Dick replied darkly, his grip tightening as he crossed the room. “Right after I’ve got you exactly where I want you.”

Dick strode confidently toward the bed, his steps purposeful and filled with possessive intent. He tossed Y/N onto the mattress, the Omega landing with a soft thud, legs splayed as he tried to regain his composure. But the moment his back hit the bed, Y/N knew there would be no escaping the Alpha’s determination—no mercy, no reprieve. Only the raw, primal force of Dick’s rut colliding with his heat.

For the next several days, the bed became their battleground. Y/N’s slick drenched the sheets, his body leaking copiously—more than it ever had before, as if making up for lost time. The resurgence of his body’s natural lactosecretion only added to Dick’s fervor, his dark satisfaction evident in every claiming thrust. Outside of heat, Y/N remained stubbornly dry, a fact that gnawed at Dick’s psyche, intensifying his obsession with conquering the Omega completely.

“Fu-FUCK… a-ah, D-Dick hurry u-up… FUCK… pl-please,” Y/N groaned, his hands balling into fists as he pounded them against Dick’s sweaty back. Each teasing, agonizingly slow thrust left Y/N on the brink of insanity. He could feel the soreness in the junction between his neck and shoulder—a place sore from the numerous times Dick had sunk his teeth into it.

Y/N had lost count of how many times they’d fucked over the past week. The air was thick with sex and sweat, a stifling combination that blurred the line between pleasure and torment. The first heat after suppressants was always the hardest, the body’s natural rhythm disrupted, leaving Y/N’s mind fogged by lust. Dick’s anger seemed to vanish the moment he caught the first whiff of Y/N’s scent, his dark eyes gleaming with unbridled hunger.

Y/N wasn’t permitted to leave the bed except to shower or use the toilet. Even those brief moments of respite were often interrupted by Dick’s spontaneous urges, pressing Y/N against the shower tiles or fucking him on the cold bathroom floor. Each time, Y/N’s brain fogged over with carnal need, even as his resentment simmered beneath the surface.

“What's that baby?” Dick taunted, his voice thick with satisfaction as he continued his torturously slow thrusts. He barely grazed Y/N’s prostate, making the Omega whine in desperation. “You want me to fill you up, huh?”

“Do that again!” Y/N begged, wiggling his hips to create friction against Dick’s swollen cock. His walls clenched tightly, trying to keep the Alpha inside, desperate for the fullness that was constantly being denied.

Dick chuckled, the sound dark and low. His tongue flicked over one of Y/N’s leaking nipples, drawing a sharp gasp from the Omega. “You want my knot, little Omega?” he whispered against the sensitive bud, sending shivers down Y/N’s spine.

“Please…” Y/N’s voice broke, his body trembling with need.

“You gonna give me what I want?” Dick murmured into Y/N’s ear, his words like a dark promise. He released Y/N’s hands, allowing the Omega to scratch at his back—an act Dick encouraged by having Alfred remove all nail clippers. A testament to how much Dick liked being marked by the submissive just as much as he liked seeing the Omega marked by him. Even when Y/N had tried to bite his nails, Dick cuffed his hands behind his back for two days as punishment.

“Yes, yes I will! I promise!” Y/N cried, his words spilling out in a haze of desperation.

A guttural growl rumbled from Dick’s chest. He grabbed Y/N’s hair, yanking his head back to expose his throat while his other hand wrapped around the Omega's painfully engorged phallus member. The hot and throbbing opening between his slick-covered slits beneath the small shaft of his penis was in no better state with the Alpha's girth stretching the rim.

Dick pumped his fist, the motion rough and unforgiving. Y/N whimpered, his body arching as the dual sensations threatened to overwhelm him. His walls tightened around the Alpha's cock, the pressure increasing with each stroke.

“You’re gonna look so good carrying our baby,” Dick growled, delivering a punishing thrust against Y/N’s prostate at the mention of pregnancy. “I can’t wait for everyone to see your round belly, knowing it was me who knocked you up.”

The words, meant to be a show of dominance, sent Y/N into a spiral of pleasure and loathing. He screamed, his body shaking with overstimulation as Dick’s knot began to swell, locking them together. The Alpha’s teeth sank into Y/N’s shoulder, marking him again as his semen flooded the Omega’s insides.

“You’ll always be mine, no matter what,” Dick muttered, his voice filled with raw possessiveness. Y/N could feel the Alpha’s triumph in every word, his body still throbbing from the intense knotting.

The following 21 days were a blur of sex and psychological torment. Even after the mating cycles had broken, Dick continued to fuck Y/N relentlessly, determined to cement his claim in every way possible. The bed became their primary battlefield, but it wasn’t the only one—walls, tables, and the floor were all fair game in Dick’s obsessive pursuit of dominance.

Despite the physical exhaustion, Y/N’s mind remained clear—even with the consistent clouded mentality: this was all part of Dick’s attempt to establish complete control. And while his body couldn’t help but respond to the Alpha’s touch, his mind remained fiercely resistant.

Dick’s excitement to confirm a pregnancy grew with each passing day, and he became increasingly impatient. He refused to settle for a drugstore pregnancy test, insisting on seeing a doctor for definitive results. Bruce, as always, called in a favor to make it happen.

For the Alpha, the waiting results were not what he was expecting, much less hoping for. But for the Omega, it was a sign that there was a chance, a small window of opportunity.

When the doctor confirmed the negative result, Y/N could see the rage and disappointment flash across Dick's face. The Alpha's grip tightened around his arm, his fingers digging into the flesh. "How is that possible?" he demanded, his voice laced with anger.

“You didn't deliver on your promise,” Dick seethed after receiving the news.

The doctor’s explanation was simple: Y/N’s body was actively rejecting Dick’s mark and his sperm. The emotional turmoil Y/N harbored was severe enough to trigger a physiological response, preventing pregnancy. It was a rare but possible occurrence among male Omegas—one that worked in Y/N’s favor.

Dick was livid. His hands clenched into fists, his eyes flashing with a dangerous mixture of hurt and fury. “You promised me!” he shouted once they were back at Wayne Manor. The echo of his voice filled the grand hall, adding to the oppressive atmosphere that had settled over the estate.

“Well, you should know better than to believe anything we Omegas say when we’re that frustrated and horny,” Y/N retorted, a smug smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Dick’s rage was palpable, but so was the growing tension between them. Y/N’s resistance had driven the Alpha to desperation, and the failure to conceive only made Dick more aggressive. He abandoned any pretense of kindness, reverting back to the cocky bastard Y/N had first met on that rooftop—only worse.

Dick made good on his earlier promise. One evening, he drove Y/N back to his old apartment, the sight of the familiar building pulling a pang of bittersweet nostalgia from the Omega. Y/N’s heart ached as they approached the entrance, the memories of a life he’d once known flooding back—moments of freedom, fleeting happiness, and a time before Dick’s suffocating presence.

But this wasn’t a visit for sentimentality. As soon as they stepped through the door, Dick’s demeanor shifted from quiet control to something darker, more menacing. He pressed Y/N roughly against the front door, his hands gripping the Omega’s wrists and pinning them above his head. His body loomed over Y/N’s, his voice a low growl that vibrated against Y/N’s ear.

“Do you know why I brought you here, baby?” Dick’s tone was a mixture of mockery and raw desire. “Because I want to remind you and someone else of who owns you now—who you belong to.”

Before Y/N could respond, Dick’s hand slid down to yank at the Omega’s clothing, tearing the fabric away in his haste. Y/N shivered, a mix of fear and unwanted arousal surging through him. The Alpha’s scent was thick and oppressive, making it hard to think, to focus on anything other than the heat of Dick’s body pressing against his own.

With one hand still pinning Y/N’s wrists, Dick used his other to fumble with his own pants, freeing his hard length. The desperation in his movements was palpable, driven by a primal need to assert his claim in the most degrading way possible. He aligned himself at Y/N’s entrance, his voice dripping with possessive lust as he taunted, “Let’s make sure Leo hears every fucking sound you make, sweetheart.”

Dick’s thrusts were brutal from the start, his pace unrelenting as he forced Y/N’s body against the door. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh filled the small apartment, accompanied by Y/N’s unwilling moans and Dick’s deep, guttural grunts. Each thrust was a punishing reminder of the power imbalance between them, of the dominance Dick sought to enforce not just over Y/N’s body, but over his very soul.

“Make sure he hears you, baby,” Dick ordered again, his voice low and harsh. He drove into Y/N with renewed force, his hips slamming against the Omega’s ass, each thrust calculated to elicit the loudest possible reaction. “I want him to know exactly who’s inside you right now.”

The mixture of pleasure and humiliation tore at Y/N’s sanity. His walls clenched reflexively around Dick’s length, slick pooling beneath them as his body betrayed him. He hated the way his voice rose in a series of helpless cries, hated how his body arched back to meet Dick’s brutal thrusts, but the Alpha’s relentless rhythm and taunting words left him powerless.

“You like this, don’t you?” Dick growled, his voice laced with both anger and twisted satisfaction. “You love being fucked like this, knowing your old flame is on the other side of the door, listening to every moan, every scream.”

Y/N’s response was an incoherent mixture of sobs and gasps, his mind too clouded by sensation to form words. But his silence wasn’t enough for Dick, who wanted more—who needed more. He leaned in, his breath hot against Y/N’s ear as he whispered, “Tell him, baby. Tell Leo who you belong to.”

The words struck Y/N like a physical blow. He tried to resist, tried to bite down the humiliation, but Dick’s hand found his throat, squeezing just enough to make him gasp. “Say it,” Dick demanded, his voice dripping with possessive fury. “Or I’ll make you say it.”

“Y-you,” Y/N finally managed to choke out, his voice breaking with the effort. “I-I belong to you, Dick.”

A dark, triumphant grin spread across Dick’s face, his pace becoming even more punishing as he reveled in Y/N’s forced confession. “That’s right, baby,” he murmured, his voice a mixture of cruelty and satisfaction. “You belong to me. Not him. Never him.”

Dick’s eyes flashed with a sudden, darker fury. He paused just long enough to lean in close, his breath hot against Y/N’s ear as he hissed, “If you were actually trying, you’d be pregnant with my child by now.” The words dripped with cruel mockery, each syllable soaked in bitter resentment. “Maybe you just need a reminder of what happens when you disobey me, hmm? Maybe that’ll teach you not to break your promises.”

Dick’s thrusts became rougher, driven by a wave of possessive rage. “And knowing he’s out there, listening to me fuck you senseless… maybe that’ll finally make your body accept me,” he spat, his voice dripping with twisted satisfaction. His words weren’t just directed at Y/N—they were a deliberate, taunting jab at the Alpha waiting helplessly on the other side of the door.

“Did you ever leak for him like you do for me?” he sneered, his voice loud enough to ensure that every word carried beyond the walls. “Did you let him knot you, or did you save that privilege for me alone? Because you and I both know who really owns you, don’t we?”

The dark emphasis in his tone was unmistakable, each declaration a bold, deliberate statement of his claim over Y/N—a challenge meant to wound not just the Omega but the Alpha outside, forcing him to hear the brutal, carnal proof of Y/N’s submission.

“No, no, no, no,” Y/N sobbed, his body shuddering under the assault of Dick’s words and the punishing rhythm of his hips. Every vicious thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure and humiliation through him, his slick gushing between them, amplifying the lewd sounds of their bodies colliding.

“Good,” Dick growled, his voice dripping with sinister satisfaction. “Because you’re mine—every inch of you, inside and out. Only I get to breed you, fill you up until you’re swollen with my kid.” His hand tightened around Y/N’s throat, not cutting off his air completely but exerting just enough pressure to make him gasp. “You hear me? You’ll only have my knot, push out my children. Only me.”

As if to emphasize his claim, Dick angled his hips sharply, driving into Y/N’s prostate with brutal precision. The force of the thrust ripped a guttural scream from the Omega, his body convulsing with overstimulation. The wet squelch of his slick filled the air, mixing with Dick’s guttural groans, creating a cacophony of raw, primal lust that echoed off the apartment’s walls.

“Say it,” Dick demanded, his voice a low snarl. “Tell me you’re mine, that you’ll give me what I want.”

“I’m yours,” Y/N choked out, tears mingling with the sweat on his flushed cheeks. “I-I’ll give you everything, just… just stop.”

But there was no stopping. Dick’s final thrusts were wild and merciless, each one accompanied by a surge of possessive triumph. His knot began to swell, locking them together in a forced bond that marked his victory. Y/N’s body trembled uncontrollably, his own orgasm ripped from him as the Alpha’s knot throbbed and expanded, pushing his seed deep into Y/N’s depths. Slick and cum oozed down the Omega’s thighs, a messy testament to the sheer force of Dick’s claim.

“Fuck, yes,” Dick groaned, his voice raw with satisfaction. “You’re gonna look so fucking good pregnant, baby. I want everyone to see what’s mine—round with our child, dripping with my cum.”

With his knot fully seated, he bit down victoriously on Y/N’s shoulder, his teeth sinking deep into the sensitive flesh, a searing reminder of ownership that burned both physically and emotionally. “He’ll never have you,” Dick declared, his voice low and raw. “You’re mine, now and always.”

The words were as much a declaration as they were a threat—a dark promise of more to come, a twisted vow that hung heavy in the air long after the final echoes of their coupling faded.

It was now going into six months—six months since Y/N’s arrival at Wayne Manor. The constant battles for dominance, the brutal sexual encounters, and the psychological warfare had taken their toll. But Y/N’s resolve remained unbroken. Beneath the façade of compliance, he was carefully laying the groundwork for his escape, gathering allies and resources while subtly manipulating the tensions between Dick and the rest of the Bat-Family.

And with Bruce finally sensing the strain between his son and the Omega, he began to question whether Dick’s approach was truly effective. The cracks in their control were small but significant—moments of hesitation, shifts in focus, brief concessions that Y/N seized upon with all the desperation of a man drowning.

Y/N had started to sow doubts strategically. He knew Bruce respected order above all else, and he used that to plant seeds of uncertainty. During seemingly harmless conversations, Y/N let slip mentions of his “adjustment difficulties,” emphasizing how forced compliance was hindering any real bond between him and Dick. He portrayed himself as malleable—capable of genuine acceptance, but only if given the opportunity to heal.

It was subtle, careful work. Y/N knew he couldn’t afford any mistakes; one misstep could shatter everything. But as he watched Bruce’s stoic expression shift into contemplation during one of their tense discussions, Y/N felt a flicker of hope he hadn’t experienced in months.

At night, Y/N lay awake, replaying each step of his plan in his mind. He could see the path ahead with a clarity sharpened by months of suffering. He knew it wouldn’t be easy—Dick’s possessiveness had only grown more suffocating, his surveillance more intense. But the cracks were there, visible in the way Bruce hesitated before issuing orders, in the way Alfred’s cold disapproval softened into the barest hint of pity.

Soon, Y/N told himself, the word a silent promise. The Bat-Family’s fortress of dominance was beginning to crumble, and Y/N intended to be the force that brought it down.

He would escape. He would reclaim his freedom. And when he did, he would make sure the world knew the truth about the Wayne family's dark, twisted control.

But for now, Y/N remained patient—like a predator watching for the perfect moment to strike. Because the longer he played his role, the deeper he burrowed into the Bat-Family’s trust. And the deeper he got, the more power he would have when the time came to tear it all apart.

Y/N’s life at Wayne Manor had shifted in unexpected ways since the last doctor’s visit confirmed the ongoing rejection of Dick’s bond. Bruce, accepting the expert’s recommendation, realized they were going to need a more measured approach. The stark realization that aggressive dominance wasn’t working led to a change in strategy. And while Dick remained desperate to cement a bond, Bruce encouraged him to ease off—give Y/N space to “heal” emotionally. It wasn’t a gesture of kindness, but a calculated move to reset the strained dynamics and, hopefully, break down Y/N’s resistance.

And it was just the calculated move the Omega was patiently waiting for.

Gradually, Dick loosened his grip. Y/N was allowed to leave the manor as long as he had a chaperone—Bruce, one of Dick’s brothers, or Alfred. He could also return to his old job at Wayne Enterprises, a move intended to “normalize” his captivity under the guise of giving Y/N more autonomy.

His return to Wayne Enterprises marked his own calculated step forward in his plan. With Bruce's suggestion to allow Y/N more freedom in hopes that it would get him to start letting down his guard, he could start to see the small little cracks in the oppressive intensity that had defined his existence at Wayne Manor since he'd arrived. Yet Y/N knew better than to actually let his guard down. The Wayne family was still watching, and he had to move cautiously, maintaining a balance between compliance and covert rebellion.

Every morning, Y/N followed a well-rehearsed routine: waking up to Dick’s possessive embrace, enduring his aggressive attempts at bonding, and then donning the façade of a compliant Omega as he prepared for work. He exchanged curt nods with Bruce at the breakfast table, endured subtle yet protective gazes from Damian, and caught Tim observing him with clinical curiosity. Alfred remained watchful, a silent sentinel who noticed every detail, no matter how small.

As Y/N made his way to Wayne Enterprises each day, he carefully crafted his persona—a seemingly resigned Omega who had accepted his place in the family. It was an act designed to lull the Bat-Family into a false sense of security. The truth was far more sinister: Y/N was navigating a deadly game of deception, one that required every ounce of his cunning.

The familiar scent of coffee and corporate politics would greet Y/N every time he stepped into the building. He kept his demeanor casual, but his mind was constantly alert. His co-workers welcomed him back with a mix of curiosity and genuine warmth—though a few appeared overly interested in his apparently public relationship with Dick Grayson. Y/N wasn’t naive; he knew that among the seemingly harmless smiles and greetings were likely a few informants, keeping tabs on him for Bruce or Dick.

The cautiousness didn’t extend to everyone. Among those Y/N was genuinely happy to see was Wyndall. The Omega’s soft-spoken nature had always been a source of comfort amid the high-pressure environment of Wayne Enterprises. Wyndall had been one of Y/N’s closest friends before the fateful night when Y/N, as Shadow, had intervened to save him from Nightwing's scheme. Thinking back, it'd made sense why Dick chose to target Wyndall when setting his trap for him.

Wyndall was a kind, gentle soul, and Y/N knew he could trust him. Obviously, he couldn't just jump in and tell the Omega everything. He had to wait it out, knowing Dick and Bruce were keeping eyes on him. But, as one of Y/N's only friends in the company, their friendship is rooted in shared experiences as Omegas navigating the power dynamics of Wayne Enterprises, he knew he could trust Wyndall.

“It’s good to have you back,” Wyndall said during their first lunch together. His eyes reflected both warmth and worry. “This place just wasn’t the same without you. Too many stuffy Alphas trying to boss us around.”

Y/N forced a smile, masking the darker memories that Wyndall’s words unintentionally stirred. “Yeah, I missed the banter too. It’s been… a long six months.”

In the weeks that followed, Y/N fell back into a predictable routine at work. He was careful with his questions and subtle in his interactions, knowing that any misstep could raise suspicions. He made sure to blend into the background when necessary, never drawing too much attention. It was crucial that he appeared content—another cog in the Wayne Enterprises machine. Yet, beneath the surface, Y/N was working tirelessly, each day bringing him closer to freedom.

Y/N and Wyndall continued their interactions with the kind of ease that came from years of shared experiences, but there was an underlying tension to Y/N’s behavior—an anxious edge that Wyndall was quick to pick up on. Though their conversations seemed casual, Y/N’s eyes would constantly dart around, his voice lowering to hushed tones whenever the conversation veered toward sensitive topics.

“Are you okay?” Wyndall asked one afternoon as they sat in a quiet corner of the office cafeteria, concern etched across his face. He leaned forward, his brow furrowed. “You’ve been… different since you came back. Always on edge, like you’re expecting something bad to happen.”

Y/N hesitated, eyes darting around the bustling cafeteria. He knew he had to be careful—he couldn’t risk even a single misstep. The looming presence of Dick and Bruce was still very much a reality, and he couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched, even in this seemingly casual setting.

“It’s… complicated,” Y/N finally whispered, his voice barely audible. “There’s something I need to tell you. It’s important, and you’re the only person I can trust.”

Wyndall’s concern deepened, his voice gentle but insistent. “What is it? You know you can tell me anything.”

Y/N swallowed hard, feeling the weight of what he was about to reveal. “Do you remember that night here at Wayne Tower? Last year, when you were cornered by Nightwing?”

Wyndall stiffened at the memory, a mix of fear and bitterness flashing across his face. “Yeah, I remember. I sent a distress signal, but the police thought I was just a hysterical Omega making up stories. No one followed up on it.”

Y/N’s jaw tightened, a surge of anger rising in his chest. “I know they didn’t,” he said quietly. “Because I was there.”

Wyndall’s eyes widened, his confusion palpable. “What do you mean, you were there?”

Y/N took a deep breath, trying to keep his voice steady. “After you sent that distress signal, Shadow showed up to help you. He fought Nightwing off long enough for you to escape, but… you never saw what happened next, did you?”

“No,” Wyndall admitted, his expression growing more bewildered. “I just assumed Shadow got away. No one’s heard from him since then.”

Y/N’s gaze dropped to the table, his fingers fidgeting restlessly. “He didn’t get away, Wyndall. Nightwing caught him and delivered him straight to Batman.”

Wyndall’s face shifted from confusion to shock, his voice incredulous. “Wait, how do you know all of this? Did Shadow somehow get a message out?”

“No,” Y/N said, his voice low and pained. “I know because… I am Shadow.”

For a moment, Wyndall simply stared at him, his expression a mix of disbelief and astonishment. “What? But… how? Shadow was an Alpha. He fought Nightwing and held his own—”

“Because that’s what everyone assumed,” Y/N interjected, his voice urgent but steady. “Everyone believed Shadow had to be an Alpha because no one wanted to imagine that an Omega could stand a chance against someone like Nightwing without being one or even a Beta. But I’m telling you the truth, Wyndall. I am Shadow.”

The room seemed to hold its breath, and Wyndall’s eyes were wide, his mouth slightly agape. “Why are you telling me this now?” he finally asked, his voice a mixture of awe and disbelief.

Y/N leaned closer, his voice barely above a whisper but heavy with desperation. “Because I need someone I can trust, Wyndall. And right now, you’re one of the few who can help me.” He paused, taking a shaky breath. “Those vigilantes—Nightwing, Batman, Red Robin, Robin—all of them, they aren’t the heroes everyone thinks they are. They claim to protect everyone, Alphas, Betas, Omegas alike. But behind the mask, they’re just like the people we’ve had to fight against all our lives—using their power to control, to dominate, all in the name of the so-called ‘greater good.’ They see us Omegas as objects, as lesser beings meant to be used and owned.”

Wyndall’s eyes widened, a mix of shock and horror etched across his features. “I… I don’t understand. How could you know all of this?”

Y/N’s voice turned bitter, the words laced with the pain of everything he’d endured. “Because I’ve been their prisoner for the past seven months, Wyndall. That night, when Nightwing attacked you, it was all a setup to lure me in. He ambushed me, forced himself on me, and then dragged me straight to his ‘leader,’ Batman. They didn’t care about right or wrong—they just wanted to control me.”

The horror in Wyndall’s expression deepened, and Y/N pressed on, his words filled with raw emotion. “Batman forced me to join his little band of vigilantes, but that wasn’t even the worst part. He handed me over to Nightwing, made me his breeding stock, his Omega—forcing me into a role I never wanted. They used my biology against me, calling me a ‘liability,’ and made it clear that if I didn’t comply, I’d remain their captive indefinitely. I was stripped of everything—my freedom, my autonomy, my very identity—just so they could break me into the ‘doting husband’ Nightwing wanted.”

Wyndall’s face paled, his voice trembling with disbelief. “But… why would they do this? They’re supposed to be the protectors, the ones who fight for people like us.”

“They’re just as ruthless as the worst Alphas we’ve faced,” Y/N replied bitterly. “They justify their actions as ‘necessary’ for Gotham’s safety, but it’s all about power. They took everything from me, and now I need to take it back. I need your help to get away from them, Wyndall. I need to be free.”

Wyndall’s face was a storm of horror, shock, and overwhelming guilt. The hero who had once saved him—the Omega who had answered his call for help, risking everything—had been reduced to a prisoner, punished for simply wanting to protect others. Y/N’s revelation struck him deeply, each word a painful reminder of the countless Omegas Shadow had saved, only to become the one who needed saving most.

The fallout from Shadow’s disappearance had been swift and brutal. Without the Omega Savior patrolling the streets, crimes against Omegas surged. Alphas and Betas, unrestrained by fear of reprisal, resumed their abusive behaviors with a renewed sense of entitlement. Wyndall himself had narrowly escaped several attacks, each incident making him wonder where the vigilante who had once been their shield had gone.

Now, knowing the truth, anger burned within him—an anger fueled by betrayal. The same heroes Wyndall had once looked to for protection were nothing more than hypocrites, preying on the very people they claimed to protect. It was a story Wyndall knew all too well; he'd seen it before, but this? This was the breaking point. They had used him as bait to ensnare another Omega—his own friend.

But the family of vigilantes had miscalculated. They didn’t know that Wyndall had connections of his own. Many of those Y/N had saved had become allies and friends, loyal to the vigilante who had risked everything for them. One Alpha in particular—Leo—had been frantic over Y/N’s sudden disappearance, even more after an apparent incident at Y/N's apartment. When Wyndall told him the truth, Leo would be more than ready to act.

Wyndall’s eyes blazed with fierce resolve. “What do you need me to do?” he asked, his voice steady and filled with unwavering determination.

Tears stung Y/N’s eyes, seeing his friend's absolute support. He knew it wouldn't be easy, had witnessed how resourceful and and calculating the Dark Knight and his entourage of so-called heroes were. But, he could also feel that small spark of hope, a flame that was so tiny, but all he had to hold on to for the seven six months he was in that manor by himself, get just a bit bigger. It was a reminder that now, after so long being ioslated, he wasn’t fighting this battle alone anymore.

Tears pricked Y/N’s eyes, a mix of relief and gratitude overwhelming him. He hadn’t expected such unwavering support, even from Wyndall, and the weight of it settled heavily in his chest. Y/N had seen firsthand how calculating and ruthless Bruce and his so-called heroes could be. He knew escaping them would be no easy feat. But in this moment, he felt a small spark of hope—a spark that had kept him alive through the six agonizing months of captivity.

It wasn’t much, just a faint, flickering flame that had been his only source of light in the darkness. But now, that flame burned just a little brighter, fanned by the knowledge that he wasn’t alone anymore. For the first time since his capture, Y/N felt a surge of genuine hope.

Over the following weeks, Y/N's life at Wayne Enterprises fell into a careful rhythm. He balanced the act of appearing compliant with his covert plotting. Each morning, he endured the routine of waking up in Dick’s suffocating embrace, forced smiles and empty pleasantries with Bruce and the rest of the Bat-Family. At work, however, Y/N found a semblance of freedom—a familiar but cautious sense of normalcy.

Bruce seemed genuinely pleased to have Y/N back in the corporate fold, which worked to the Omega's advantage. One afternoon, Bruce invited Y/N to lunch under the guise of a business meeting. Y/N kept his face neutral as Bruce droned on about Wayne Enterprises' future and potential joint projects with the city’s police department, but internally, he was calculating how to extract more information that could aid his escape.

"I’m glad you’ve come back to us," Bruce said earnestly between bites of a gourmet salad. "I’ve always believed you were a good fit here, even before things... escalated. You’ve always had a strong sense of justice, Y/N. And I know that’s something Dick admires in you too.”

Y/N forced a small smile, hiding the unease that gnawed at him. He nodded politely. “I appreciate that, Mr. Wayne. I just want to make the best of things, you know?”

Bruce’s expression softened, and he leaned in conspiratorially. “You know, I’m very fond of you. You’re strong, resilient—an excellent match for my son. It’s not easy being part of this family, but you’re handling it well.”

Y/N felt a bitter laugh claw at the back of his throat but managed to keep it suppressed. “Thank you, Bruce,” he replied simply, knowing full well that pushing back or showing resistance would only complicate things further. He needed Bruce to believe in the facade he’d carefully constructed. Even if the billionaire was aware of his scheming which he wouldn't be surprised by, the smartest thing for him to do would be to continue the act. It'd gotten him this far.

After the lunch meeting, Y/N made his way back to his office, his mind already buzzing with plans. As he stepped inside, he found Wyndall waiting, holding a stack of documents that were mostly for show. Wyndall’s eyes held a flicker of excitement, a silent acknowledgment that their plans were advancing.

“Everything go okay with Bruce?” Wyndall asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.

“Same as always,” Y/N said dryly, then added with a teasing smirk, “I noticed he’s been laying on the charm with you lately.”

Wyndall’s cheeks flushed slightly, but he rolled his eyes. “Please. The man flirts like it's part of his job description. But hey, if it keeps him distracted and off your back, I’m not complaining.”

Y/N chuckled, but his eyes were serious. “Keep playing along, Wyndall. The less he suspects, the better.”

As the weeks passed, Wyndall became Y/N’s lifeline, relaying coded messages to trusted contacts on the outside. Y/N’s old college friends, the ones who had helped him build his vigilante persona from scratch, were still well-connected and resourceful. They had provided Y/N with gear, information, and safe houses back when he was still able to operate freely. Now, Wyndall was reconnecting with them, subtly conveying Y/N’s situation and gauging their willingness to help.

“Good news,” Wyndall whispered one morning as they met in the break room under the guise of grabbing coffee. “I’ve reached out to Leo and some of your old allies. They’re all in. They’re ready to move as soon as you give the word.”

Y/N’s heart lifted, and for a brief moment, he allowed himself to feel hopeful. “Thank you, Wyndall,” he murmured, his voice sincere. “I owe you more than I can ever repay.”

Wyndall shook his head, his voice equally quiet but firm. “No, Y/N. We owe you. You saved us all when no one else would. It’s our turn to save you.”

Despite the growing sense of hope, Y/N knew he couldn’t afford to get complacent. Every move had to be calculated, every interaction with the Waynes carefully managed. He continued to play the dutiful partner at Wayne Manor, enduring Dick’s increasingly desperate attempts to bond with him. Though the sex was no less aggressive or possessive, there was a desperation to it now—a frantic need to solidify a connection that simply wasn’t taking hold.

His obsession with impregnating Y/N persisted, though the physical intensity of his efforts varied. Despite Bruce’s suggestion to ease off, Dick remained fixated on the idea that a child would be the ultimate bond between them. He believed that Y/N's resistance could be overcome through sheer persistence and frequent sexual encounters.

His desperation was rooted in the unique nature of bonding itself. It’s not just a bite or a single act of marking; it’s a series of connected actions—intimacy, emotional vulnerability, and a deep mental connection that needs to be nurtured over time. Bonds that form willingly tend to be stronger and healthier, but forced bonds are often unstable, marked by volatility and strain. It is why mating bonds hold a higher status than legal marriages; the physical and psychological ramifications of breaking one can be devastating, even fatal, to one or both partners.

The theory that pregnancy could facilitate bonding has persisted for years, though it has never been definitively proven. Researchers have long speculated that a pregnancy between an Alpha and an Omega, or even a Beta and an Omega, could help solidify a bond—even in cases where one partner is unwilling or resisting. The rationale is that the hormonal and biological changes triggered by pregnancy may influence the subconscious bond between partners, making it more difficult to resist.

For Alphas like Dick, this theory isn’t merely speculative science—it’s a lifeline, a desperate bid for control. The idea that a child could finally cement the bond between him and Y/N has become an obsession, a relentless pursuit driven by his natural dominant Alpha nature, paired with his possessive attitude and fear of losing Y/N entirely. To Dick, a child isn’t just about family or legacy; it’s the ultimate means of tying Y/N to him permeanently, both physically and emotionally.

Despite Bruce’s insistence on a more measured approach, Dick continues his efforts to impregnate Y/N. The physical intensity of his encounters varies—sometimes brutal and aggressive, other times slow and almost pleading—but the end goal remains the same: breaking Y/N's resistance and establishing a bond that has so far eluded him.

For Y/N, each encounter is a twisted blend of rage and resignation. He knows exactly what Dick is trying to achieve, and while the physical invasion is brutal in itself, the deeper violation is the attempt to force a bond that could have devastating consequences for both of them—especially for the Omega.

The safest way to dissolve a bond is gradual separation, letting it fade over time. Abrupt breaks or disruptions, however, can be severe. Infidelity, abuse, emotional strain, or even minor conflicts can weaken a bond, causing mild depression, anxiety, and a lingering sense of emptiness. But with a stronger, more established bond, the fallout is far worse: severe trauma, debilitating illness, and, in extreme cases, even death.

This is Dick's ultimate goal and the reality Y/N faces—control through leverage. If he succeeds in cementing a bond, any chance of Y/N escaping the Waynes' grasp would be shattered. Y/N's resistance isn't merely about preserving his autonomy; it’s about protecting what little remains of his mind and spirit, still unbroken.

Every time Dick’s efforts fall short, it only fuels the Alpha’s resolve to try again, believing that persistence will eventually wear down Y/N's resistance. Dick’s actions are driven by more than just possessiveness—they're also fueled by a deep-seated fear. If he fails to bond with Y/N, he risks losing him entirely, and that’s something Dick is determined to avoid at all costs.

Even Bruce, as calculated as he is, understands the stakes. He knows that Dick’s obsession is not just about Y/N as an Omega; it’s about what Y/N represents to Dick—an unfulfilled desire, a sense of ownership that remains incomplete. Bruce’s suggestion to ease off on the intensity was not out of compassion, but strategy. He recognizes that forcing a bond could backfire, potentially breaking Y/N’s spirit beyond repair or even driving him to further rebellion.

But for now, Dick remains undeterred, holding onto the belief that Y/N’s body—if not his mind—will eventually submit. The desperate cycle continues, each encounter a brutal mix of possessive lust and forced intimacy, leaving Y/N with the bitter understanding that Dick will not stop until the bond is made, one way or another.

Whenever Y/N was at work, Dick would often show up unannounced, using the guise of a lunch date. But those visits, once casual, quickly escalated into increasingly aggressive displays of possession.

After one particularly disruptive incident, Bruce had to intervene. “Dick, you need to control yourself,” Bruce warned, his tone stern but not entirely unsympathetic. “Your behavior is affecting Y/N’s work—and the company’s reputation.”

Dick’s response was defiant. “I’m just trying to solidify our bond, Bruce. You of all people should understand that.”

But even Bruce’s reprimands couldn’t completely curb Dick’s obsessive behavior. He found ways to maintain his hold over Y/N, even outside of work.

One night, Dick’s patrol had taken an unexpected detour. With the city quiet and most of Gotham’s rogues either hiding or licking their wounds, there was more than enough time for him to indulge his carnal desires. It was the perfect opportunity to take Y/N for a spin—both literally and figuratively. As Nightwing, he often let his impulses run wild, and this night was no different.

The Batmobile’s interior was dimly lit, the blue glow of its dashboard casting dark shadows over Nightwing’s form. His muscular frame, clad in the iconic black and blue suit, exuded raw power. The sleek, black leather hugged every inch of him, making his presence even more intimidating, yet undeniably alluring. His signature bird emblem gleamed against the dim light, and his grin was nothing short of devilish.

Y/N was thrown onto his lap the moment the autopilot was engaged, forced to straddle the Alpha in the cramped vehicle. “Let’s see how fast we can go while you ride me,” Nightwing taunted, his voice deep and filled with lust, the heat of his breath fanning Y/N’s cheek. It was a dangerous game, but one that had become all too familiar between them.

Y/N's body tensed instinctively, trying to maintain the last fragments of resistance. “You’re insane,” he managed to whisper, but his tone lacked conviction. His Omega instincts were betraying him, responding to the heat and the primal energy radiating from Nightwing.

“I might be,” Dick admitted with a smirk, his hands already moving to slide up Y/N’s thighs, feeling the taut muscles beneath. “But you love it, don’t you?” He continued his teasing touches, rough hands squeezing the Omega’s hips possessively before pushing up Y/N’s shirt, exposing his chest.

Y/N shivered at the contact, torn between defiance and the undeniable pull of his biological instincts. His body betrayed him, slick starting to pool beneath him, dampening the fabric of his pants. It was humiliating to be so responsive, but it was the truth—his Omega nature couldn’t resist the call of a dominant Alpha, especially one who wielded power so effortlessly.

Dick noticed immediately, a satisfied chuckle escaping his lips. “See? I knew you couldn’t help yourself. You were made for this, Y/N.” He shifted his hips upwards, grinding against Y/N’s entrance, the bulge in his suit pressing insistently. “You can try to fight it, but we both know who’s in control here.”

Y/N tried to maintain his composure, his breathing shallow and erratic. He could feel the hard press of Dick’s arousal against him, the thick heat promising both pleasure and domination. The confined space of the Batmobile only added to the intensity, making it feel as if there was nowhere to escape—even if he wanted to.

“Remember the first time we were here?” Dick whispered into Y/N’s ear, his voice dripping with sinful nostalgia. “You were so stubborn then, trying to push me away even as your body begged for more. I told you then that I’d make you mine, and look where we are now.” He nipped at Y/N’s earlobe before tracing a line down his neck, the touch both possessive and tender.

Y/N whimpered, torn between pushing Dick away and giving in to the overwhelming desire. His slick was embarrassingly copious now, dripping down his thighs, betraying his internal struggle. Dick’s touch was rough, his fingers sliding into the wet heat with a confidence that spoke of ownership.

“Feel how wet you are?” Dick taunted, pumping his fingers inside Y/N with slow, deliberate strokes. “All for me. You’re practically begging to be fucked.” His voice was thick with lust, his blue eyes gleaming behind the black mask as he watched Y/N’s face contort with conflicting emotions.

Y/N’s head fell back against the cool glass of the Batmobile’s window, his body trembling as Dick’s fingers played him like an instrument. He hated how good it felt, how his Omega instincts urged him to submit completely, to let the Alpha take control. The shame was there, but it was drowned out by the flood of arousal that Dick had expertly drawn from him.

“Say it,” Dick whispered harshly, his lips brushing against Y/N’s ear. “Admit that you want it.”

Y/N’s breath hitched, his voice barely audible as he struggled to find words. “I… I hate you,” he choked out, his tone laced with both anger and reluctant desire.

Dick’s grin widened, his fingers thrusting harder in response. “I can work with that,” he said with dark amusement. “But I want more than just your hate. I want you to admit that you want this—that you need it.” He leaned back, his free hand moving to undo his own zipper, releasing the long, throbbing length that had been straining against his suit.

Y/N’s eyes widened, the sight of the Alpha’s cock sending a fresh wave of arousal through him. What he lacked in girth, he made up for in length, the tip already glistening with precum—a sight he had become shamefully accustomed to. “No,” he managed to whisper, shaking his head weakly. But his body betrayed him, shifting forward involuntarily, driven by instinct.

“Yes,” Dick insisted, his voice low and commanding. He positioned Y/N over his lap, the head of his cock pressing insistently against the Omega’s dripping entrance. “Say it, Y/N. Admit I'm your Alpha.”

Tears of frustration welled up in Y/N’s eyes, his body shaking with need and defiance. But the pressure was too much, the thick heat of Dick’s cock against his opening breaking down the last of his resistance. “You… You're my Alpha,” he finally confessed, his voice a mix of desperation and surrender.

“That’s what I like to hear,” Dick growled, and with a sharp thrust, he buried himself inside Y/N, filling him completely. The Omega cried out, his body arching as he felt the throbbing tool plunge deep into his depths, stretching him open. It was both painful and satisfying, a reminder of the power dynamic that defined their twisted relationship.

Dick’s hands gripped Y/N’s hips, guiding him into a punishing rhythm. “Ride me, baby,” he ordered, his voice rough with pleasure. “Let’s see just how fast we can go.”

Y/N’s body moved on instinct, hips grinding down as he adjusted to the fullness inside him. The car’s interior was filled with the obscene sounds of their coupling—the wet slap of skin against skin, the creak of leather, and the muffled groans that escaped Y/N’s lips.

“You’re so fucking tight,” Dick grunted, his hands digging into Y/N’s hips as he thrust upwards, meeting the Omega’s movements with brutal force. He was relentless, his pace quickening as they chased their shared release. “You were made for this, Y/N. Made to take my cock, to be filled by me.”

Y/N’s mind was a haze of pleasure and shame, the desperate need to climax overtaking any rational thought. He hated how much he craved the Alpha’s touch, but in this moment, he was helpless to resist. “F-Fuck,” he stuttered, his voice breaking as he felt the familiar tightening in his passage.

Dick’s grip tightened, his thrusts growing more erratic as he neared his own release. “That’s it, baby,” he encouraged, his voice hoarse. “Cum for me. Show me how much you love being fucked by your Alpha.”

With a final, shuddering moan, Y/N’s body gave in, his climax crashing over him in waves. His slick gushed around Dick’s cock, the wet heat driving the Alpha over the edge. Dick buried himself deep inside, his knot swelling as he filled Y/N with his seed.

For a moment, they were both still, their heavy breathing the only sound in the car. The bond they both sought to forge and resist hung thick in the air, a reminder of the twisted connection that kept them tethered.

“Filthy Omega,” Dick whispered harshly against Y/N’s ear, his voice dripping with dark satisfaction. “Look at the mess you made. Slicked all over my cock like a needy slut.” The Alpha’s words were a twisted mix of degradation and praise, sending a new wave of heat rushing through Y/N’s trembling body. The confined space of the Batmobile only seemed to amplify the raw, primal energy between them.

Dick’s hands gripped Y/N’s hips with a bruising force as he pulled out, letting his spent cock slip free with a wet sound. Y/N’s thighs quivered, slick and cum dripping down his skin, creating an obscene trail of fluids that smeared over the dark leather of the center console. The Omega’s breath came in ragged gasps, the lingering pleasure of his climax mingling with a deep, humiliating shame.

“But don’t worry,” Dick continued, his voice low and possessive, lips brushing against the shell of Y/N’s ear. “I’ll clean you up. Just like I always do.” There was a sinister tenderness in his tone, as if he relished the contrast between his rough dominance and the twisted care he took afterward.

Before Y/N could fully comprehend what was happening, Dick roughly lifted him off his lap, flipping him over the center console with practiced ease. Y/N’s face pressed into the cool leather of the passenger seat, his ass raised high in the air while own his aching, leaking Omega penis was trapped awkwardly against the console. The position was utterly degrading, a blatant reminder of his vulnerability and the absolute control the Alpha held over him.

“Stay right there,” Dick ordered, his grip firm as he held Y/N’s thighs apart, exposing the slick, swollen flesh still glistening with his cum. There was no mercy in his touch, only a possessive hunger that burned in his eyes as he took in the sight of the Omega’s dripping hole.

Y/N’s instinct was to close his legs, to hide himself from the Alpha’s ravenous gaze, but Dick’s hands kept him spread open, fingers digging into the soft flesh with bruising intent. “You taste so good, baby,” he murmured, the anticipation thick in his voice.

And then, without any warning, Dick’s mouth was on him.

The first swipe of the Alpha’s tongue was hot and wet, lapping hungrily at the slick-smeared grooves. Y/N’s body jolted, a shocked gasp escaping his lips as the sensation rippled through him. He tried to squirm away from the overwhelming contact, his instincts telling him to flee, but Dick’s hands were relentless, holding him in place with a force that made it clear there was no escape.

“Stay still,” Dick commanded, his voice a guttural growl as his tongue delved deeper, greedily tasting the mix of their fluids. The sound of his mouth working over Y/N’s sensitive flesh was lewd and messy, echoing obscenely within the confines of the Batmobile’s soundproof interior.

Y/N’s entire body trembled, every nerve ignited by the Alpha’s relentless assault. The shame of being spread and licked clean like this was almost unbearable, yet the sensation itself was maddeningly good. His mind screamed at him to resist, but his Omega instincts betrayed him, sending pulses of pleasure through his overstimulated core.

“Look at you,” Dick mocked between rough licks, his breath hot against Y/N’s slickened skin. “Still so sensitive… still leaking for me.” His voice was a mix of cruelty and dark amusement, each word punctuated by another obscene slurp. “You were made for this, weren’t you? Made to be fucked, bred, and tasted by your Alpha.”

Y/N’s thighs quivered uncontrollably, his breath hitching with each swipe of Dick’s tongue. He tried to press his hips forward, seeking some kind of relief from the intensity, but Dick’s strong grip kept him pinned firmly in place. The Alpha’s mouth was merciless, alternating between long, languid licks and sharp, teasing nips that sent jolts of pleasure-pain through Y/N’s body.

Tears pricked at Y/N’s eyes, a mix of humiliation and desperate arousal welling up inside him. He hated how much his body responded to this, how his instincts pushed him to arch further, to present himself even more to the Alpha’s insatiable mouth. “P-please,” he finally managed to whisper, his voice barely audible and thick with shame.

“Please, what?” Dick mocked, his voice muffled as his tongue continued its sinful exploration. “Please stop? Or please keep going?” He pulled back just enough to let the words hang in the air, the wet, slick sounds of his mouth pausing for a moment.

Y/N squeezed his eyes shut, the shame of the situation overwhelming. “Please…” he choked out, not even sure what he was begging for anymore.

Dick’s laughter was low and satisfied, a dark rumble that sent a shiver down Y/N’s spine. “Good Omega,” he murmured approvingly, before diving back in with renewed vigor. His tongue pressed deep, swirling around Y/N’s entrance, tasting every last drop of slick and cum that still clung to the Omega’s abused hole.

The rest of the patrol was spent with Dick’s tongue buried deep inside Y/N, licking and tasting until he was satisfied. The Omega’s cries were silenced by the Batmobile’s soundproof casing, the outside world blissfully unaware of the depravity taking place within Gotham’s iconic vehicle.

And when it was finally over, Y/N was left trembling and spent, the lingering taste of shame and reluctant pleasure still heavy on his tongue.

It wasn’t just confined to work or the Batmobile. About a month after the apartment incident, Dick fell into another rut—a state that left Y/N bracing for days of relentless, obsessive attention. And the Alpha did not disappoint.

The first night, there was no pretense of gentleness or affection. The moment Dick caught Y/N’s scent, his eyes darkened with raw, desperate hunger. He didn’t waste time with words or coaxing; instead, he moved with urgency, his hands roughly grabbing Y/N’s arms and pinning him against the nearest wall. The Omega struggled instinctively, trying to twist away from the Alpha’s iron grip, but it was useless.

“You know exactly what’s coming,” Dick growled, his voice hoarse and rough, thick with desire and frustration. “No fighting it.”

Before Y/N could even attempt to pull free, Dick lifted him off the ground with frightening ease, throwing him over his broad shoulder. The familiar feeling of being draped over Dick’s muscular frame sent a mix of anger, humiliation, and an involuntary thrill through Y/N’s body. His legs dangled uselessly, and his vision tilted as he was carried down the hall like nothing more than a prize to be claimed.

“Sooner or later, this bond is going to take,” Dick murmured, his voice a mix of satisfaction and lingering frustration. “And once it does, you’ll finally be mine.”

The sessions were grueling. Each attempt at conceiving and bonding left Y/N’s body sore and leaking with slick and cum. But despite Dick’s persistence, Y/N’s body continued to reject the bond. The psychological strain, however, was beginning to show. Every time a bite faded and every time knotting knotting that failed in resulting in pregnancy, the Alpha’s frustration became more evident.

“You promised me,” Dick murmured darkly one night, his sweaty, muscular body pressed against the Omega's as his hand possessively stroked his abdomen. “We’ll have a family. I’ll find a way to make it happen.”

Y/N’s only response was a silent, simmering hatred masked behind feigned exhaustion.

Sensing Dick’s growing frustration, the Wayne family attempted to step in. Concerned by the mounting tension, Bruce called the doctor once more, seeking answers to Y/N’s continued resistance. The doctor’s explanation remained unchanged: Y/N’s body was actively rejecting both the bond and Dick’s sperm, a direct result of severe psychological trauma that had created a physiological barrier. It was a rare but documented occurrence, particularly among male Omegas, who were not only the most vulnerable in societal dynamics but also among the most coveted and frequently subjected to forced bonding attempts.

The news struck Dick hard. His confidence, usually unwavering, began to crack. Y/N, however, saw it as an opportunity. The more desperate Dick became, the more vulnerable his family’s control grew.

Despite the emotional toll of Dick’s rut, Y/N continued his secret alliance-building at Wayne Enterprises. His interactions with Wyndall became more strategic, filled with coded messages and clandestine planning. The growing network of Omegas—many of whom were eager to support Shadow—provided a sense of hope, albeit a fragile one.

Y/N’s initial assessment of the Bat-Family, made during his first few weeks at Wayne Manor, had been thorough but cautious. He’d known from the start that escaping would require understanding not just the physical layout of the manor, but also the dynamics and individual traits of its inhabitants. The Waynes weren’t merely skilled fighters; they were highly trained vigilantes, each with a distinct approach to strategy and conflict. It made them formidable as a unit—and unpredictable as individuals.

Despite the varying levels of threat each member posed, Y/N had found ways to navigate their behaviors and interactions. It wasn’t about defeating them outright; it was about identifying who could be manipulated, distracted, or potentially turned against one another.

Damian, for example, was observant but impulsive. His youthful arrogance and quick temper often led him to act before thinking, making him a potential loose cannon. Y/N knew that if it came down to it, he could exploit Damian’s need for validation and his rash tendencies, possibly leading the youngest Wayne into a trap of his own making.

Tim, on the other hand, was far more methodical. The former Red Robin had an analytical mind and an impressive ability to piece together puzzles, making him a significant threat to Y/N’s plans. Y/N would need to be especially cautious around him, careful not to leave any traceable patterns or inconsistencies that Tim could latch onto. Tim’s tendency to overthink was both a strength and a weakness, and Y/N planned to use that to his advantage—feeding him conflicting information that would hopefully slow down any investigations.

Jason, meanwhile, presented a different kind of risk. Unlike his brothers, Jason was less interested in subtlety and more inclined toward direct confrontation. His approach was aggressive, even ruthless, which could be both an advantage and a danger to Y/N. If Y/N could find a way to manipulate Jason’s anger—perhaps by playing into his ongoing tensions with Bruce—he could turn Red Hood’s unpredictable nature into a useful diversion. But it was a risky move, one that would have to be executed perfectly to avoid immediate, violent repercussions.

Bruce himself was a more complex adversary. As both Batman and the head of the Wayne family, he was the lynchpin of their entire operation. Bruce’s reputation as the world’s greatest detective wasn’t merely a title; it was a proven reality. He had an uncanny ability to see through deceptions and understand the motivations of those around him. However, Y/N had noticed one critical factor: Bruce’s loyalty to his sons often clouded his judgment. Y/N realized that Bruce’s greatest weakness was his desire to maintain the family’s unity and ensure his children’s happiness, particularly Dick’s. This vulnerability could be exploited—albeit carefully. It was likely the only reason Bruce had agreed to allow Y/N to return to Wayne Enterprises and to have some semblance of freedom.

Despite Bruce's reputation as the ultimate tactician and the "World's Greatest Detective," Y/N’s real adversary wasn’t the Batman. It was the unassuming figure who, for decades, had stood silently at Bruce’s side, managing the household and, in many ways, the family itself: Alfred Pennyworth.

Alfred was a master of observation, capable of picking up on even the smallest discrepancies in behavior or routine. Y/N had quickly realized that the butler’s quiet presence wasn’t merely a sign of deference; it was a strategic position that allowed him to monitor every aspect of the manor and its inhabitants. Where Bruce’s vigilance was focused outward, constantly searching for threats to Gotham, Alfred’s was internal, designed to maintain control over the household’s dynamics and detect any signs of rebellion or dissent.

Still, Alfred’s vigilance remained a constant threat. The butler’s piercing gaze and unyielding loyalty to the Waynes forced Y/N to tread carefully. Every move, every interaction was carefully calculated to avoid arousing Alfred’s suspicions.

Though, during one late-night conversation, Alfred confronted Y/N directly. “You’re a clever one, aren’t you, Master Y/N? I imagine you’ve considered all the possible outcomes of your situation.”

Y/N met his gaze evenly, refusing to flinch. “I’m just trying to make the best of what I have, Alfred. Isn’t that what we all do?”

The butler’s expression was unreadable, but his words were clear. “Just remember, some battles are won not with cunning, but with endurance. This family is not easily bested.”

If the Bat-Family were a fortress, Alfred was its foundation—unshakable, impenetrable, and always aware.

Y/N had been somewhat prepared for the challenges presented by the Waynes. He’d expected Bruce’s overprotectiveness, Dick’s possessiveness, and even Damian’s unpredictability. What he hadn’t fully anticipated was the sheer extent of Alfred’s influence. The butler wasn’t just a servant; he was the glue that held the family together, the one who managed both their personal lives and their vigilante endeavors with meticulous precision.

It didn’t take long for Y/N to realize that if anyone could see through his carefully constructed facade, it was Alfred.

The butler’s scrutiny was constant, though never overt. He never interrogated Y/N directly, nor did he engage in overt displays of power. Instead, Alfred’s approach was subtle—an innocuous question here, a knowing glance there. It was as if the butler had a sixth sense for deception, able to detect the faintest hint of dishonesty in the air.

Alfred’s presence was pervasive, almost omnipresent. No matter where Y/N was in the manor, Alfred always seemed to be nearby—whether it was delivering a well-timed cup of tea, silently observing from a doorway, or appearing suddenly to provide a neatly folded towel when Y/N returned from a shower. Y/N had once joked to himself that Alfred could probably hear a pin drop from three floors away.

He wasn’t wrong.

It was the incident with the break-in that solidified Alfred’s position as Y/N’s most formidable opponent. Y/N had been in his room, scribbling notes in a coded shorthand he’d developed to document the mansion’s security layout and defenses. The sound of shattering glass downstairs had immediately put him on edge. He was about to investigate when his designated phone rang, Alfred’s voice calm and authoritative on the other end.

“Master Y/N, please remain in your room and lock the door. Master Dick insists.”

Y/N had considered ignoring the instruction, but his curiosity got the better of him. He made his way downstairs, staying low and quiet, only to witness Alfred dispatching one of the intruders with surprising efficiency. The old man’s movements were precise and practiced, each strike deliberate and effective. The sight was both impressive and unnerving, a stark reminder that Alfred wasn’t merely a caretaker—he was a trained operative, one who had likely seen and done far more than most of Gotham’s criminals.

But the true revelation came when Y/N spotted the second intruder sneaking up behind him. Before the guy could strike, Alfred was there, intercepting the attacker with a level of skill that bordered on lethal. The quick takedown was both brutal and controlled, a clear demonstration of the butler’s combat prowess.

It was at that moment that Y/N understood the full extent of Alfred’s capabilities. The butler wasn’t just aware of Y/N’s movements—he was actively countering them, anticipating potential threats before they could fully manifest. If Y/N was going to succeed in his escape, he would need to be more cunning than ever before. Alfred would be the one who could unravel his plans before they even began, the silent force that could keep Y/N trapped indefinitely.

“So...Alfred is the real boss around here,” Y/N muttered to himself one night, staring up at the ceiling in the darkness of his room. It wasn’t an exaggeration. The butler was the linchpin, the one person Y/N would have to outmaneuver to gain his freedom.

As Y/N continued to build his network of allies at Wayne Enterprises, he remained hyper-aware of Alfred’s constant surveillance. Each interaction, every coded message to Wyndall or whispered conversation with a trusted colleague, had to be meticulously planned and executed. There was no room for error. One misstep, one poorly timed message, and Alfred would undoubtedly be there, ready to intervene.

The looming presence of the butler was both a challenge and a motivator. If Y/N could manage to deceive Alfred, he could deceive anyone. It was the ultimate test of his cunning and resolve—a psychological chess game where a single wrong move could cost him everything.

“Don’t think I’ve lost sight of your true intentions, Master Y/N,” Alfred said one morning, catching Y/N’s gaze in a moment of startling clarity.

Y/N’s heart raced, but he managed a small, defiant smile. “You’d be a fool to think I’m not planning something, Alfred.”

The butler’s eyes narrowed, but there was a hint of respect behind the suspicion. “Just remember, Master Y/N—escaping may not be the hardest part. Surviving the aftermath will be.”

He would escape and he would survive. Alfred Pennyworth might be the final boss, but Y/N was prepared to play the long game—one calculated move at a time.

This story concludes on Archive of Our Own...

☀️ | Dick Grayson/Nightwing | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

🌗 | Nightwing & Shadow | 🌗 (this image was generated by Bing AI)

[reidsexual]

Gotham Galas & Smudged Lipstick

You know you’re supposed to focus on applying your lipstick right now, but who can blame you for staring at your boyfriend’s reflection in the corner of your mirror?

“So, what do we think of the new shade?” You ask, turning away from your vanity and pointing to the color pained on your lips for extra emphasis.

“I think you look beautiful no matter what shade you choose to put on.” Dick says sincerely, walking over towards you. “But I have a better idea,” He prompts, leaning over with a cheeky grin.

“Ah ah,” You scold, placing a hand over his mouth just to tease him. “I did not put on lipstick just for you to immediately smudge it afterwards.”

Dick chuckles under your hand, taking hold of your wrist and placing a soft kiss there. “Then I guess this will have to do for now.”

You have to take a second to yourself to admire how effortlessly attractive Dick is. Who knew a simple black tux could make you fall head over heels?

Maybe it wasn’t the clothes. Maybe it was his blue eyes that could see through your every thought with just a look. Or maybe it was his-

“See something you like?” Dick says with an air self-assured confidence only he could pull off.

“See something I should fix.” You correct him, stepping closer to undo his tie.

“Woah there, baby.” He says in an exaggerated manner, undoubtedly trying to put a smile on your face. “Weren’t you the one saying we’re running late? But you know me, I wouldn’t mind.” His voice drips with sarcastic innuendo that you can only roll your eyes at.

“I don’t know if you just do your tie messily because you actually don’t know how to or if you’re just trying to catch my attention.”

“One, I put this on ages ago. Sorry if it’s a little crooked, baby. And two, I don’t have to try to get your attention.” He counters, placing a quick peck on your cheek.

“Is that right?”

“I’m always right about you.”

Your phone rings and you look over to the side, seeing Stephanie’s name on the caller ID. “One second.” You tell Dick.

“Hey, Steph.” You say nervously, swatting Dick away when he tries to lovingly bite on your exposed collarbone.

Stephanie barely gives you a chance to explain before practically screaming into the speaker. “Where are you guys? Damian’s getting fed up and the only person who can calm him down is Dick.” Dick overhears this, a proud smirk crawling onto his features.

“Meanwhile, I am getting fed up and the only person who can calm me down is you. Hurry, before I personally send Ace to fetch the two of you.” Stephanie threatens, hanging up.

“Well then.” You turn to Dick, holding back a smile. “That’s our cue.”

You turn your heel, but not before Dick’s hands hug onto your hips, propelling you to his direction.

Before you can argue, Dick’s lips press against your own, capturing a kiss that you are too familiar with - sweet and fleeting. It almost annoys you how good he is at this. His hand brushes up against your jaw and just when a part of you starts to think running late isn’t so bad, he backs away.

Dick takes one admiring look at you and smiles to himself. “Now we can leave.” He rushes outside, getting the car ready.

A blush creeps onto your face and you shake your head. You catch a reflection of yourself in the mirror and your smile drops instantly.

Oh, he’s so going to pay for the lipstick he just smudged on you.