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jd-loves-fiction · 3 years ago

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Hey! Acabei de descobrir o teu perfil e achei incrível também seres portuguesa! Mas anyway, eu queria fazer um request para uma fanfic de smut, em inglês claro, entre Tim x fem!reader na qual eles já são amigos à bastante tempo, a reader é filha de pais ricos e amigos do Bruce e também uma rapariga bastante inteligente, e o Tim começa a aperceber-se dos seus sentimentos por ela quando vê um rapaz a "flirtar" com ela numa gala e ele fica com ciúmes e uma coisa leva à outra e pronto. Obrigada!

🌙 Isto demorou tanto tempo, desculpa🥺 mas espero que gostes! Obrigada por passares por cá :)

@glorified-red @offendedfishnoises @foenixphire @multifandomgirl-us @pricetagofficial ❤️

Warnings: unprotected sex, p in v, it's vanilla swirl my dudes🥴

[20:12] When at a Wayne gala, you can always be sure that the food will be a delight, and that Dick will most likely be the first to greet you.

"So you decided to show up, in the end. I thought you'd be too caught up on... something, to show up." The oldest Wayne gestures broadly as he teases, hand on his middle as a show of faux sophistication.

"Well, I managed to squeeze it into my schedule. Don't make me regret it." You tease back. "My parents already did enough of that with the whole 'it's important for your future' bit. As if they can't keep up appearances themselves."

"Ah, but if they did, we wouldn't have been blessed with your presence." Dick responds, ever the charmer. It only works because he knows exactly how cheesy he sounds, and he uses it to his advantage. That, and he's just unfairly handsome.

Must be a Wayne thing.

"Look who decided to come out of hiding. Finally decided to take a break, for once?"

Speaking of Wayne's.

“Only for a little, Dick.” You respond, greeting the oldest Wayne boy with a hug.

“Aww, why?”

“Doubt something like this could ever keep my attention for long.” Dick motions someone over behind you as you speak.

"Not even with some good company?" He asks you playfully, pointing behind you. You turn to see Tim, in a perfectly tailored, dark suit that accentuates every one of his body lines beautifully.

"Depends if they can keep my attention." You respond towards Tim as Dick walks away to talk to someone else. Tim smiles at you, standing close and coyly placing his hand in his pockets.

"I'll take that challenge." His smile morphs into a teasing grin. "Good luck." You take a glass of something from a waiter passing by, taking a sip as you raise your brows at him over the rim. Daring.

Some time after, Tim steps away to talk to one of his school acquaintances, begrudgingly leaving you alone as his father, the host, begins his welcoming speech. He was more so dragged away than anything else but oh well, didn't seem to be fighting it too hard.

Bruce Wayne definitely earned his love admiration, what with how eloquent his speeches always sound, despite the lack of effort he puts into them. He's just good at it.

Finding yourself captivated by what the host has to say, you forget about your surroundings for a moment, being brought back by a hand on your shoulder.

As the conversation dims between Tim and his friends, he takes a look around the floor, picking out familiar faces with the subtlety of someone trained for it. Before his eyes settle on you. And your beautiful face, and dress... And the man standing next to you, whom he doesn't know.

Not that he leaves his space often enough to know that many people (that aren't villains), but still.

He's much too close to be a stranger. Do you know him? He doesn't seem to be making you uncomfortable, if your body language is any indication.

The sudden instinct to protect you, somewhat surprises Tim, given that you’re not in danger and he doesn’t usually do this sort of thing in a setting like this. Mostly safe and with so many people capable of keeping everyone safe in the building. If someone were being suspicious, surely Bruce would be miles ahead of their intentions.

Forgetting all about the conversation he was supposed to be having, Tim looks back to you and the unfamiliar man, who turns away the moment your eyes meet, before you playfully push your companion away with a pout as he giggles.

"Listen, I love you, really I do. But I'm not doing that." You tell him firmly, arms crossed.

"And why is that? Surely it can't be because you... Have feelings for him?" The man teases, feigning shock at the information. As if he wasn't the first to know.

Even though to you it was nothing but friendly teasing, that's not what it looked like to Tim, who promptly began walking in your direction once he saw the stranger get too close.

"Hey buddy, could you give us a moment?" Tim grabs your arm, softly dragging you away from the unknown man. Who shoots you a knowing smile behind Tim's back as he walks away.

"Care to explain yourself, Timothy?" Your arms cross as you lean against the wall of a random room in the Wayne mansion. Probably a music room judging by the grand piano in the middle of it, the only object in the room.

“Did you know that guy?”

“Why else would I be talking to him?”

“You seemed pretty uncomfortable.” Tim points out, taking a step closer to where you stand against the wall.

“It wasn’t because of him, it was more the topic of the conversation.” You respond cryptically, purposefully avoiding his gaze as he comes even closer.

“And what was that?” His footsteps echo, heels clicking against the polished wood flooring. He stops, too close to not make your heart stutter, waiting patiently for an answer.

"I plead the fifth."

"Oh? Must be something you really don't want me to know then. Shall I try to guess?"

“Pretty sure that’s not how it works.”

“Pretty sure I know better than you.” Got me there, Timbo.

You sigh, no use hiding it, it’s Tim, he’ll find out eventually. “It’s you.”

“It’s me?” He parrots, blinking in confusion.

“Yes, Timothy, we were talking about you." You look away, feeling the heat crawling up your cheeks.

"What about me exactly?"

"You ask too many questions." You grumble, looking back to see his adorably curious expression. It seems almost hopeful? No, no way.

"That was my cousin and he wanted your number, OK? Is that enough, Mr. Detective? I'm going." Sensing your own baseless hope blooming in your chest, you move to leave the room. This isn’t like him, but that doesn’t mean what you hope it does, surely not.

Lightning strikes in Tim’s mind. Your flushed cheeks, your cousin’s teasing laugh and the interested looks sent his way. If he’d been going for you, he wouldn’t have been looking at Tim even before he knew you were talking. Plus, you’re a smart girl, you wouldn’t have let any sort of scummy behavior slide.

Then, why did he step in?

“But you didn’t want to give it.” He asks as his hand on your wrist prevents you from leaving. There isn’t a shadow of a question in his voice. It’s a statement, he already knows, but you answer anyway.

“No, I didn’t. Because--”

You’re supposed to be mine.

Tim doesn’t even know what he was thinking before or during that moment, what made him step forward so suddenly, so brashly. You looked like you were having fun for a moment, why would he want to interrupt that?

Because you should be mine.

You turn towards him finally, just as he musters up all the courage he can hold within his heart to move forward and crash his lips against yours, finally.

It's short but fierce, the culmination of too many moments, too many emotions, for just one kiss. So just as he pulls away, you kiss him back, gripping his pristine suit to pull him back to your body.

You stay locked together for longer this time, reveling in the feel of each other’s lips, finally after so long of yearning for it.

But it’s not enough. The kiss quickly turns sloppy and desperate, spit dribbling between the two of you as Tim pushes you against the wall to grind his hips against yours, spilling over just like the wave of emotions that seems to burst through your chest.

Your fingers run through his perfectly styled hair, messing it up but not caring one bit as all you can focus on is the way Tim nibbles on your spit-slick bottom lip. Not like you’re thinking of going back out after this, and neither should he.

“Shouldn’t we- talk about this?” Tim stutters, momentarily tongue tied at the feel of your hands suddenly dipping beneath his shirt.

“You have something to say? Go ahead, I’m listening.” Your tone is just on the side of teasing as you focus on finding that spot on his neck that’ll send him reeling. You wrap a leg around his hip, grinding against his pelvis as he continues to try to tell you what he feels.

He sighs at your ministrations, pinning your hips against the wall, stopping your movements as he places his forehead against yours. “I love you. Have for a while now. Just thought you should know.” He admits sheepishly.

You smile softly in response, taking his face in your hands, “I love you too Timmy. You know, for someone so smart, it’s surprising that you hadn’t figured it out.”

“Look who’s talking. Did all that time in front of the computer rot your brain?” He barely stops himself from laughing at his own joke. You’re one to talk, Timmers.

You take advantage of the moment he spends appreciating the irony of his own statement to kiss him again, harder, while shoving his suit jacket off his shoulders.

As you get halfway through unbuttoning his shirt, he easily takes you into his arms and over to the dark piano, He sets you down atop it before yanking his shirt off over his head and tossing it away.

You breathe each other's air as his lithe fingers grasp and pull down the zipper at the back of your dress, tortuously slow.

"Relax, baby, let me take care of you." Tim whispers against your lips as he feels the tension of your spine, gently pushing the rest of the dress off your body.

You hum, laying back as he urges you to, hands running over the expanse of his broad chest. Before you reach down to palm his cock through his pants, already halfway up, silently asking him to take them off.

He struggles to yank them off to his mid thigh as you latch onto his neck, coloring the pale canvas with dark blossoms.

“I don’t have a condom.” He sighs as he realizes his pocket are empty, resting his head on your neck.

“I’d be a little surprised if you brought one to a gala.” You chuckle, “Don’t worry, I’m on the pill.”

He lets out a relieved sigh this time, smiling at you tenderly after pecking you. “Good, because I don’t think I’d be able to wait otherwise.”

"But I can be patient for a little longer, for your sake." Tim adds cheekily, thumbs rubbing the skin just beneath your underwear.

"For my sake, huh? Aren't you confident." You remark teasingly while tracing a finger delicately across his jaw.

"You'll have your proof soon, don't you worry." He winks, finally shoving your panties down your legs. His delicate and slim fingers dance across your skin, slowly reaching your pussy, ghosting them over it teasingly. He smiles at the wetness he feels with that light of a touch.

“Aren’t you eager.” Tim taunts, slipping one long finger in before you can spit out a witty response, leaving you speechless for a moment. His lips latch onto neck, painting it just as you had his while stroking his finger along your walls, knowing he’s found the spot when your breath hitches and your neck tenses beneath his smirking lips.

One finger quickly turns into two, sliding through your wetness and spreading your apart for his cock as you moan and whimper his name like a mantra. His free hand pinches and twists your nipple, reveling in your pornographic noises, begging him to ‘just get to it already!’

“I’ll get to it, when I think you’re ready for it.”

“Better hurry, Timbo, you might bust if you take too long with how red you’re getting.” You manage to say without stuttering too badly.

"I'd be careful if I were you, princess. But since you want to rush it so bad, who am I to deny you?" He whispers, undressing fully, finally.

You notice that you can hear the music from the gala, despite the thick walls, meaning your disappearance may not have yet been noticed.

"Ready?" Tim asks, looking fondly down at you as he lines himself up with your entrance. He seems long enough to hurt at first glance, so you gulp before nodding. He smiles, taking your hand and intertwining your fingers as he slowly breaches your walls.

You gasp, realizing that he meant what he said about preparation as you feel the slight burn of the stretch, but it's not as bad as it could've been had he ignored the foreplay all together.

Your nails dig into his back, groans turning into whimpers and he eases more and more of himself inside your pussy. Eyes blinking up at him filled with unshed tears glisten as he coos at you, running a comforting hand along your hair.

“Fuck, you look so damn pretty. Pussy so tight-- ugh!” Tim cuts himself off with a moan as your warm walls tighten themselves around him, sucking his cock in even more. His hips stutter at the sudden spike of pleasure shooting up his spine, long member brushing your cervix which makes you gasp as the tears finally spill over.

“Oh god! Tim, please.” You moan and beg, with no idea of what you’re begging for but you do so wantonly, desperately.

“I’m so c-close, fuck.” He hisses, lips over yours, sharing your air but barely brushing yours. "You close, princess? Gonna squeeze me real tight?" His tongue loosens as he nears his climax, blending words together like he's drunk on your body.

"Yes! Tim, I'm gonna--!" You can't finish your own sentence as your orgasm slams into you, harshly and suddenly, leaving you dizzy and hot. Your toes curl as well as your spine, chest pushed against Tim's as you release a silent scream.

The man over you snaps his hips against yours three more times, before he's throwing his head back and letting out a deeply satisfied groan that rumbles through his chest. He looks back at you, panting and with dark strands of hair stick to his forehead, cheeks, neck. His lips curl into a small smile that quickly blooms into a grin, chuckling breathlessly as you do the same.

His forehead falls softly against yours, eyes closed, enjoying the moment just like you.

In the end, you did find someone able to keep your attention.

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myladyofmercy · 3 years ago

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MultiFandomGirl has done it again

youtube

#omar rudberg #young royals #Youtube #edvin ryding

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glorified-red · 4 years ago

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1/2 Hello! Can I please request a Jason Todd x asexual! reader where the reader never wants sex. Jason and the reader have been together for a couple of years and Jason knows that the reader is asexual and is absolutely fine with it and doesn’t care. But the reader has been feeling insecure lately about her sexuality and she is scared that Jason would be happier if they had sex and that Jason will become frustrated with their relationship and leave her. She starts to feel really sad and ...

Thank you so much for the request love! I apologize this isn't a fic but I do not write fics for Jason x reader. I do write headcanons for him though! I hope you enjoy this little compromise and if you don't then feel free to request something else, I’d be more than happy to write for you again :)

Jason with an Asexual s/o

word count: 1040~

warnings: I am not on the ace spectrum nor is this the only image of asexuality, mentions of sex but nothing explicit

Huge thanks to @offendedfishnoises and @multifandomgirl-us for helping me learn about asexuality and plan out this request <3 They're amazing lovelies

Your relationship with Jason has been going on for quite a while, long enough for you to know his secret identity, his past trauma, you even met his family

Its been long enough to see just how much of a touch oriented person Jason is

He loved having his hands on you, whether they sat comfortably around your waist, intertwined with yours, or settling for the nape of your neck, rubbing gentle circles into your hair line

The further your relationship went, the less innocent his touches got

He didn't necessarily want anything to go anywhere, he just loves the trust you have in him to do something so intimately close

So his hands travel to your hips, to lay on your stomach as you two cuddle, sometimes even inching his way under the back of your shirt to lightly scratch your back

Jason didn't think much of the touches until one particular night

The two of you were happily dozing off, you were settled in Jason’s hold, basking in the warmth of his chest against your back

It was a nice moment, relaxing with each other

That is until Jason lightly touched your chest from under your shirt, nuzzling into the back of your neck, bring you ever so close to him

He noticed immediately when you tensed, surprised when you grabbed his wrist and moved it away from your chest, placing it gently onto your waist instead

From then on Jason was extremely attentive to what touches you liked and disliked, lest he make you uncomfortable in anyway

He was quite disappointed in himself for not noticing a few things sooner

How you preferred to kiss his cheek over his lips, opting for pecks instead of longer kisses

How you would initiate the touch of leaning your head on his shoulder but not cuddles

Even how you got stiff when he touched you first in any new areas

Jason didn't want to mess things up with you, if he’s learned anything from your time together it was how to communicate his feelings better

He wanted to give you the same kind of compassion you always showed him

So he asked you, point blank, no beating around the bush, no warnings, nothing

Just you and him together in the kitchen, Jason casually sipping away at his coffee and you making yourself a meal

“Babe, as much as I like your cardboard impersonation, I think we need to talk about your boundaries.”

To say you dropped your fork in shock was an understatement

You trusted Jason with your life, but when you asked him what he meant you couldn't help but feel a jolt of anxiety shoot through your body, fingers trembling as your picked up the dropped fork

Thats when Jason told you his observations, laying everything flat out like it was obvious, before asking where the line between comfort and uncomfortableness was for you in terms of touch

Then you told him, you told him exactly where the line was, how you felt about touch, and finally, that you were asexual

Jason was very accepting of it in his own way, he never blew it out of proportion, never really brought it up again, and tried to be as careful as he could be to respect the boundaries you gave him

He honestly didn't really care

But as the days progressed, you kept thinking back onto his words of you being like cardboard

Jason was a touchy person, so it made sense he would want to have sex with you right?

Frustration crept into your thoughts until you decided to ‘fix’ things

You started hugging him more, making sure to linger a bit longer than usual so he can notice your efforts

Holding hands far more often than necessary, often times he'd have to switch your hand positioning so he could still go about his daily activities while appreciating the touch

But the kicker was when you kissed him hard on the lips

It was a frantic spur-of-the-moment thing and you were tense the whole time, eyes scrunched shut as a testament to how out of character it was for you

The second he noticed your stiff body language, Jason pulled away

“Sweetheart, I want you but not like this.”

cue heart shattering noises

You quickly stuttered out an explanation, going deep into your insecurities and frustrations until you were left as a crying mess in front of him

He lets you finish, holding his hands out for you to grab if your feeling up to it

If you do, he won't hesitate to pull you into a bear hug, tucking your head under his chin

If you don't, he's more than happy to comfort you with his words instead

“I don't care if you want sex with me or not, thats not why I started dating you. Hell, I’d put a ring on that damn finger of yours right now if I could because you're the one I want to marry someday.”

He'd take your head in his hands and kiss the top of your head

“Ace or not, you're perfect.”

Taglist ♡

@anothertimdrakestan

@bungunz

@red-hood-redemption

#dc comics #batfam #batfamily #robin #dc #batman #jason todd #red hood x y/n #red hood x you #red hood x reader #headcanons #red hood headcanons #red hood #asexual reader #ace reader #ace headcanons #asexual headcanons

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cherios · 3 years ago

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this is now my taglist blog!

follow me and turn on notis to know when i post <3

taglist // @inniterhq @basilly @yamturds @dysfunctionalcrab @tinyegg @ttakinou @charnease @i-mmunity @b3l0v3ds @alice-blue-skies @the-swageyama-tobiyolo @mitzimania @joyfullymulti @dreamzluvrr @multifandomgirl-us @sufloerfs @sunniewrites y

mutuals // @acidtabletz @sushisoot @thatplanetmarz @dreamwvrld @rowanndoesntwrite @earthtooz @bozowrites @blanknamed @simpoot @sleepysoupi @serend1p1ty-0

( tagging moots for a reach srry if you didn’t want to be tagged lovies <3 )

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internalsealpanic · 4 years ago

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The Dog and Duck

summary: Dick Grayson is a terrible flirt (in more ways than one).

a/n: Special thanks to @jd-loves-everyone, @littleredwing89, @glorified-red, and @multifandomgirl-us for proofreading! This fic is based on a headcanon by @pricetagofficial (I think) that Dick Grayson is actually terrible at flirting which is just the cutest thing.

warnings: Potential cringe and terrible flirting advice

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

The sound of voices and clinking of glasses mingle around you like a bustling symphony: discordant, rhythmic, clashing but endlessly vibrant. The scent of alcohol hung thick in the air, enough to taste and intoxicate. The amount of people in such a small space made something under your skin hum, whether it was simply an irritable Yasiri or the buzzing energy stored in your bones or maybe even a genuine discomfort, you weren’t entirely sure.

You sip lightly at the scotch in your glass, letting it burn through your throat, but it wasn’t enough to make the itch in it go away completely.

You watch Dick’s eyes intently as they slide past you, just over your shoulder. His sentences coalesce clumsily, syllables squishing and clipping at odd ends as his plush bottom lip catches between his teeth. His eyes are glossy with interest even in the dim lights of the pub. His pupils are blown and dark. You fight everything in you to stamp down the urge to huff or roll your eyes. Not that he would have noticed. You’re pretty sure you could stab someone in the eye and Dick wouldn’t even blink, not when he is so enraptured by whatever the hell is behind you. You feel a gross sticky sort of jealousy pool in the pit of your stomach. You swallow it down not really knowing of any other way to deal with it.

You arch a brow, the tips of your nails tapping loudly against the lacquered wood of the table as Dick once again stumbles absentmindedly over his story about Wally West being living proof of the need for warning labels (for people). You click your teeth irritably while Yasiri’s tail rattles against your collarbone before you take another sip, eyes following his only for them to land on a vivacious redhead at the bar. The irritation bubbling in your veins dwindles into mild amusement. Your best friend is a hilariously predictable moron.

“She is either a suspect or you’re being a creep.” You tease, the cruel curve of your lips barely obscured by the glass pressed against them. The mockery in your eyes shining amber like the drink in your glass. Dick’s cheeks flush as the playful lilt in your voice lances through the fog in his mind. He looks at you, dopey and red-cheeked as if he didn’t know what you were talking about. You roll your eyes, nostrils flaring letting out a breath caught between a huff and a laugh. “Stalker.” You hiss, trying to smother the warmth in your voice with sheer, unadulterated pettiness.

Dick levels you a look, cutting and vicious if he wasn’t flushed. “Am not.” He whines halfheartedly, eyes flicking once again to the woman at the bar. Some part of you is sure you really ought to be mad at him. After all, you haven’t seen each other for almost half a year. This is thanks in part to work and in part to work getting royally fucked up. Thankfully, not because of Gotham’s resident furry and his new little bird boy. Really, you should be furious at being sidelined considering this outing was his idea but here you were smirking into your malt whiskey, tickled.

“Then stop staring.” You challenge, unfolding and relaxing into the moldy cushioning of the bar. Dick glares at you, the pout on his lips obscured by his hand as he rests his chin on his palm but you know it’s there. You’ve memorized the plains of his face and how they shaped themselves, a product of spending far too much time staring at the details. Hey, if he was gonna third wheel you the least you could do was tease him about it. “Or do you want me to wingman for you~”

“HELL NO”

You can’t stop the cackle that spills from your lips. “Why not?!”

“I’m not letting you cockblock me. AGAIN.”

“That was one tiiime, Joystick.”

“Once was enough!"

"’Fiiiine but to be fair, you still ended up dating her, didn’t you?” You defended weakly, running your fingers through your hair, jostling the already wind whipped strands. Dick was red-faced. The liquor was definitely working through his system. The color in his cheeks was lively and cute, making him look boyish despite how much he’d grown. You had, in fact, cockblocked him due to an extreme bout of jealousy, childishness, and hormones. Back then you hadn’t yet learned the art of burying your feelings 6 feet under.

“Fine, fine, fine. Just shoot your shot, Dickie bird.” This does not appease him. He, in fact, crosses his arms over his chest. You set your glass down and raise your brow. “If you fail, I’ll buy you a round.” You add placatingly. Dick’s eyes slide over your shoulder, the lump in his throat bobbing.“Make that two.”

Your eyes shine, cat-like the dim lighting of the lamp overhead. You smile at him all cocksure, placing your chin on your intertwined fingers.“Deal.”

Dick gives you a withering look as he pushes off the table. You take a sip of your daiquiri as he moves through the crowd, gracefully slicing through the sea of bodies. No, maybe they were parting just for him. Dick does have that air about him. A pull that made it so painfully obvious that he was so much more. Dick also had this way of talking that made you unsure of whether you’re being flirted with or if it’s just the way he talks to people. Either way, he had this way of making you feel special and you had no doubt he would sweep this one off her feet.

The redhead at the bar tipped her head finally sensing his gaze on her and as per your expectation, she seemed to reciprocate the interest. Not that you can blame her. Dick was a 10 on his worst day. Now that you thought about it, you’ve never actually seen Dick flirt. You’ve seen him banter but flirt? You can’t seem to think of an instance of it. This’ll be fun.

You watch him closely and your brows climb higher than you thought they could. Something was off, something very un-Dick-like. There’s an unsteadiness in his step that makes your stomach sink. Dick wouldn’t. Even Dick wasn’t stupid enough to blow his shot just to get a few shots, would he?

And then it happened.

“Did it hurt when you hit your face?” Dick asks, winking stiffly. A ripple of pain lances through you followed by an unbearable wave of second-hand embarrassment. “Excuse me?!” Her face morphs into something terrifying before Dick’s brain can catch up. You watch in mute horror as Dick’s face slowly matches the sinking feeling in your gut as embarrassment suffused his entire body.

“Wait, shit. I- I meant- Shit. I didn’t mean to say you look like you banged your face. I mean, of course, you don’t-” You watch in fascination as Dick stumbles through apology after apology after apology. Until finally, he gives up. “Actually, I’ll just leave.” Dick shambles gracelessly back to your table while your brain tries to process what just happened.

You wheeze against the table, pounding your fist against the table. “Dickie, yanno you did have a shot before you opened your mouth, right?” Your hand is clamped over your mouth trying to stop the shrill cackle bubbling in your throat.

“Y/n...”

“Jeez, Dicktopus, was gin really worth getting blue balled?”

“You better have your money,” he sneers, cutting you a scathing look as he slides into the booth.

“I-” The smug look on your face vanishes when you reach into your wallet. “If I apologize for you, will you cut me some slack?” you try, brandishing your nearly empty wallet.

“I’ll buy you a shot if she doesn’t tell you to fuck off.”

“Hmm, if I get her number for you, will you get me two?”

“Sure, why not?” Dick whines petulantly. His head sinks into his arms desperately trying very hard to implode. You cough into your sleeve trying not to laugh and hope he doesn’t notice. A blush creeps up the tanned skin of his neck. He tries to hide it by placing his hand on his neck but the color’s already made its way to his ears. Feeling a little bad for him, you squeeze Dick’s shoulder once, then twice, then twice once more. You swing your legs dramatically out of the booth. You hear Dick groan and you chuckle.

You flick your eyes to him one last time before moving forward. You roll your shoulders, realigning your form into something more suave and less goofy. The rhythm of your feet goes from a clumsy shuffle to a confident saunter. The woman looks at you skeptically, her lashes fluttering mockingly. You move, easy and casual. With a playful grin, you apologize and make up some bullshit excuse about Dick being extremely shy. She eases. You continue on your little sales pitch as if it was the most natural thing in the world. You draw a laugh out of her. You can hear her heart pick up. She smiles at you telling you that you and your shy friend are fine. You chuckle and promise to tell your long-suffering friend that, tilting your chin towards Dick who is still trying to melt into the table. She scribbles her number onto a napkin and hands it to you with a flirtatious wink. You smile lopsided, cute and sheepish, as you wave her goodbye.

Dick stares at you with slack-jawed awe. This time you feel genuinely bashful but you shrug it away with a sharklike grin spreading across your face.

“Pay up, pretty bird,” you say slamming the number on the table, teeth gleaming in the low light of the room. The petty satisfaction oozing off of you is almost palpable. Dick looks up at you, his pretty mouth twisting. “What are you? Seven?”

“If by seven you mean lucky, then yeah,” you sneer, nudging your empty shot glass against Dick’s shoulder. “Pay up, Dickenson~” you sing. Dick’s face twists even more and he waves you off, pushing off the table.

“Let’s just go,” Dick bites out, cheeks burning. You bite your lips trying to resist the urge to tease him more but it’s hard. Not when he’s all pouty and cute.

“I mean you did just wine and dine me,” you laugh musically. You promised yourself you would stop teasing him but you never said you would stop making jokes. There’s a complicated expression on Dick’s face before it shifts back to exasperation.

“You. Are. Awful.”

You shake your head not even denying it as you follow him out of the old Dog and Duck into the fresh Bludhaven air.

“How are you good at this?” Dick whines into one of your throw pillows. The poorly counterfeit superman one he had gotten you a few years ago from a trip to the Philippines. He's pouting at you like a kid. To be fair, you did laugh at him in the club (and the whole way back to your safehouse which was not a short walk).

You chuckle, tapping a cool can of beer against his forehead.“Sadly some of us need to work at being charming, Dimples McGee.” He accepts the can, scowling at you. Your grin doesn’t waver which only serves to deepen his scowl. It was an irritating feedback loop. Well, irritating for Dick. You’re having the time of your life. You settle on the other side of the couch rolling your beer can in your hand. “ Plus, you’ve seen pops talk right? The man sweet talks like his life depends on it.”

“Right, I’ll remember to ask him for flirting advice next time he tries to kill me,” Dick says, rolling his eyes at you. You perk up at the awful idea before you snicker and press a hand to your lips in a barely held back smile. It’s Dick’s turn to perk up. His blue eyes shine with interest at your expression like he’s trying to capture it. You turn to him with a serious expression. “Please, please ask him that. I will pay you to record his reaction. Please. Please. Dickle, please,” you beg, moving on your knees to his side, your hands clasped in prayer. Dick shifts sticking his tongue out at you childishly.

“Noooooo!”

“Pleeeeeeaaaaaseee”

“No!”

With an ‘oof’, you plop yourself between Dick’s legs, your chest against his. You stare up at him with eyes mimicking the wide-eyed innocent look he uses on you when he asks for a favor. Dick gives you a sorry look asking you to please drop it. You don’t. You double down trying to look as cute as possible.

Dick looks down at you, glaring then grimacing then smiling. “Ok, fine,” he huffs stiffly, wrapping his arms around you. You snuggle up against him, smug in your victory. Your nose brushes against Dick’s pulse which makes his breath hitch. He squirms under you but you just find yourself laughing. “You. Are. Evil. ”

“I promise to make your Granny’s goulash,” you say in a halfhearted attempt to appease him. Dick’s face softens “Now, that’s just bribery.”

“You’re gonna be a cop here in Bludhaven. You gotta learn how to take bribes.”

His brows crease as you shake your head. Dick huffs, planting his chin against the crown of your head before pressing his lips to your hair. You feel one of his arms pulling you closer, his hand threading through the tangle of your hair. You smile against his skin, breath tickling him which just makes him squirm. He’s breathless under your touch and you don’t even know it. You two sit basking in the close proximity and the soft intimacy you two shared. Your limbs tangle and twine around each other carelessly.

Out of context, you two could have been lovers.

You sigh, feeling a bit drowsy from the ‘tussle’. You blink, mind reaching for something. “Wait…. Brucie flirts like his life depends on it too! What’s your excuse?” you grin, jabbing a finger into his chest. Dick scowls at you, clearly flustered again. He stammers, babbling out answers. “Hey, I- I could probably do it...” Dick mutters, finally finding a semblance of coherence.

“After that performance?” You challenge, sitting up, eyebrow raised and arms crossed. A sharp laugh spills from your lips. It’s louder than you intended, your entire chest moving along with every exhalation of air.

Dick looks at you like a kicked puppy which has you roaring with laughter. “You don’t have to laugh that hard”

“Admit it, Grayson, you are an actual bonafide dork”

“I’ll bonafide you,” he growls and you’re bent into the couch cushions, clutching your stomach. Dick looks like your house plant like he’s about to disintegrate. You sit up again and cross your legs. Your lungs expand as you draw in another calming breath before you give him a softer, lopsided smile, placing a hand on his knee and shaking him gently. “Come on, practice on me I’m probably one of the few people you don’t have a stick up your ass around.” Dick, not getting up, puts his hands in his face looking positively mortified by the idea. You make a little affronted noise in the back of your throat and thanks to whatever god is up there that you don’t seem to know how much he doesn’t wanna fuck up flirting with you.

“I don’t know how to!” The cry is muffled but the mortification still bleeds through. The admission startles something out of you. “Holy shit, Nightwing can’t flirt his way out of a paper bag. Oh my god, this is great!” you cackle, falling into the cushions.

“I’m trying damn it!”

“Ok. Ok. Ok.” You breathe. You’re still clutching your still aching stomach. You wish you recorded that confession. “Ok. Phew. Ok, I need a minute,” you say folding over into the cushions again, another bubble of laughter rising in your throat. This is the best ab workout you’ve had in months.

“Take your time,” Dick deadpans, rolling his eyes, color rising in his tanned cheeks.

“Ooook, I think I’m good. First, we need to work on your wink.”

“The hell is wrong with my wink?” A wry smile tugs at the corner of your lips. You make vague hand gestures, hoping somehow you could physically pluck the correct words from the air. “Just try winking, Ric.” Dick raises his brow but gives in. He winks at you in his usual devilishly charming way. You shake your head. “Wink at me like you’re trying to get my number.”

He stiffens and gives you the most artificial wink you’ve seen outside of a bad 50s flick. You drag your hand over your face. “How come you can wink so naturally while fighting and look like you work at in car sales when you flirt”

Dick tries again. He ends up closing both his eyes and scrunching his nose- looking like a disgruntled puppy. You squeal and Dick’s eyes fly open. Your mouth works to flatten itself but your mind is still picturing the expression. “What?” he growls. You wave him off. “Sorry. Sorry. Just- just try again. Please.”

Dick gives you another stiff wink and you’re surprised to find yourself cringing at your best friend for the first time in your life. You drag your hand over your face. “You look like you’re trying to ask me to prom.”

“You’ve never even been to a prom!”

“Who do you think scares off Joey’s dates? Pops?” you snort picking up your beer can and taking a sip. “Did you miss the absentee father part?”

You both silently agree to move on.

“How the flying fuck did you date both Babs and Kory with your atrocious flirting skills?”

“I have good pick up lines.”

“Uh, sure, buddy.”

“It worked on both of them!”

“Well, hit me.”

“Call me Fred Flintstone,” you wait patiently, “cause I’ll make your bedrock.” Another artificial wink.

You blink at him, mind still trying to catch up. “Dick you are the epitome of ‘you’re lucky you’re cute’,” you groan, palm flat against your forehead.

“I’m not cute! I’m handsome!” Dick protests, mouth twisting into a pout. A shrill squeal is dying in the back of your throat as you draw a breath. You pinch his cheeks, “you pouting just furthers my point.”

“Are you just trying to destroy my confidence?” Dick whines, lightly shoving you away.

“Oh no, the girl back at the club did that. I am just dancing on your grave.”

“Give me another wink.”

Dick fails at winking, again. You cringe openly at him and he scowls at you halfheartedly, more defeated than angry. Dick’s used to being good at things, you supposed. You tap your finger against your chin, trying to unspool a thought and rethread it into words. “Ok, figured out one of your problems.”

“Aside from my terminal dorkiness?”

“You’re too nervous-”

“You would be too,” Dick cuts in.

You snicker, teeth bared in a mocking grin. ”Did you miss the part where I got her number?” Dick refuses to answer. You sigh but you can’t keep the smile off your face. “Let’s start with body language because for a guy with so much muscle control you are shit at this.”

“You’re just gonna keep being mean,” he moans.

“I’ll stop being mean when you sweep me off my feet,” you jab.

“Ok, fine, maestro. What do you need me to do?”

“You’ve got to lean into me and smile coyly,” you say vaguely. Dick leans in close, your noses touching, his lips ghosting over yours. You can feel his breath hot against your lips. It sends bolts of electricity careening through your nerves. Your brain takes its sweet time catching up, giving your body ample time to soak up the proximity of the almost kiss. You gasp then reign yourself in. “Dickle, that’s- that’s a teensy bit too close,” you laugh awkwardly, hands playfully shoving at his chest.

Dick shakes out of his haze. “You said to lean in!” he says leaning into your space again. “Yeah, I did but I never said lean in close enough to eat my face. I can smell the gin in your breath,” you snort airly, pushing at his chest again.

Dick sits back, embarrassment creeping into his features. His bottom lip is caught between his teeth as if he’s thinking carefully about his next few words. “I’m just-” Dick puts his head in his hands. “Like you said, I’m too nervous.”

You raise a brow. The sound that comes out of you is too sharp and disbelieving to be a laugh. “Pfffft, it’s just me, you dork.”

That’s the problem, Dick thinks. It’s you. The exasperation bleeds into his features. Dick fidgets, shifting and shaking in his seat like a wet chihuahua. Don’t you know how much he wants to get this right for you?.

“Stop twitching! You look like you’re having a seizure.”

“I’m nervous!!” he says. “Don’t you ever get nervous about a person you like?”

You side eye him. “I do,” you admit, rubbing your thumb over your tattoo out of habit. Dick’s eyes widen, then narrow. You see the word ‘who’ forming on his lips but his train of thought is cut off by the sound of Yasiri’s tail rattling against your skin as she emerges. Your poor danger noodle is likely frustrated with the lack of progress. You quietly thank her by scratching her chin. “Whatever made this world just decided that you had to have at least one very obvious flaw,” you say, insincerely patting him on the back.

“You're enjoying this.”

“Way more than you think,” you say grinning at him. Dick simply grimaces at you. “You’re not helping me.”

“Were you really expecting me to help?” You shrug. “Why would I do that?”

“I’d help you!”

You level him with a flat look. “No, you wouldn’t. You’d laugh just as hard as I did.” Dick opens his mouth then closes it. He opens it again. You raise your brow at him. “ I- ok yeah. No, I would laugh harder,” he says, giving you a cheeky, lopsided smile. Vindication and something warmer tug your features into a smile.

“Just… relax and be yourself,” you mock sagely. Dick rests his head on yours. “ I hate you,” he groans, pressing his shoulder into yours.

“You’re just thinking about it too much,” you say, pressing back, “just do what’s natural. The more you over try the funnier it is.”

“Goes back to my problem of being nervous,” he huffs into your hair. You boop his nose. “Goes back to my point about you overthinking things.”

“I’m not!”

“Fine.”

“Fine?”

“Fine,” you say, reaching back and presenting your danger noodle in your palm, "practice on Yazzy.”

“You’re not serious?”

You hold up the clearly unamused snake eye level with Dick. “Go on." Dick gives you a withering look. He exasperates, then looks deep into Yasiri’s black eyes. He opens his mouth and Yasiri flicks her tongue at him. The next few things happen in quick succession. Dick’s body relaxes. His face breaks into a smile that makes your heart flutter. He lets out a bubble of laughter that has you jumping and reaching for your own breath. "I can't!" he gasps. You both dissolve into laughter.

“Suit yourself - but prepare to have blue balls," you grin, punching his shoulder, "at least, they'll match your new suit!" you cackle. Dick flushes red.“I - I - you are legally the worst and most unhelpful human being in modern history!”

Your cackle rises higher even as Dick shoves a pillow in your face. You push it away and wipe the tears away from your eyes. “Just practice on me, go on,” you say, reaching out, “once more." He frowns at you. "Please?”

Dick closes his eyes. His movements become leisurely the way you've seen him when he's about to do a routine on the trapeze. “Do you have a map?” he says, pushing a strand of hair out of your eyes. The oxygen in your lungs evaporates. Heat spreads from the line of skin Dick’s finger grazed to the rest of your body. You swallow trying not to collapse under the weight of his gaze. You realize he's expecting an answer. "No, why?” you stammer out stupidly.

“Because I keep getting lost in your eyes,” he says, eyes glittering in the dim lights of your apartment. Some part of your brain short circuits, fizzing out in sparks and fire, then the rest of your brain follows. The entire structure goes out in a puff of smoke. You're completely frozen. Dick watches you with a furrowed brow, bottom lip caught between your teeth. Apprehension rolls off of him in waves and you can feel your lungs work again. "Exactly! Exactly that!" You squeal in delight. Dick smiles relieved. "I knew you could do it, you magnificent dork. I could kiss you right now!" you say squishing his cheeks and pressing your forehead against his. Dick’s breath catches. There's a hopeful look in his eyes. "Would you?"

Something clogs your throat as you pull away. You're pretty sure it's your heart. You force the nervous laughter in your throat into something else. "Need practice with that too, Dickens?"

"Dunno," he hedges, eyes holding yours, "you tell me." His hand cups the side of your face. You ease into his touch like a marshmallow dissolving into hot cocoa. "Can I?" he whispers, thumb brushing against your bottom lip. He's being careful with you you realize. Your eyes flutter closed. You can feel your nerves disentangling. They cross and recross so that you're fully aware of your lips. The gap between the two of you is small but it feels so impossibly big. Anticipation, anxiety, and excitement all thicken the spaces between you. You want him. You want this. Is it so wrong?

"Yes."

Tag list: @batarella, @anothertimdrakestan, @lucy-roo, @multifandomgirl-us, @idkmanicantenglish,@birdy-bat-writes, @boosyboo9206, @americasmarauders , @l-inkage, @arestorationofbalance , @cloudie-skay, @wunderstell @hyp-oh-critical @glorified-red

#dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x you #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson #merc!reader #my writing

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