CW: stalking, noncon panty huffing,
i need to talk about nightwing right neow
dick grayson my beloved new obsession <3 dick grayson and the way he just cannot be in love with you normally. who had an old romance movie, rush of violins moment when he watched you take a punch from a bank robber to protect the kid you were babysitting. who from that moment on can no longer fathom a universe where the child you are with is not his, and he is not there to protect you from any danger that may befall you. who is suddenly having fantasies of a little, cosy house, and changing diapers while you fix dinner, despite not even knowing your name.
dick grayson who now quietly sees to it that you never run into trouble again. He trails you closely on your way home from work each night, perching on rooftops and slipping into shadows, watching for criminals and anyone who may be taking up too much of your attention. He likes to think of it as walking you home, taking care of his girl, even if he's always just out of sight. Not because he doesnāt want you to know - he would yell from the rooftops how much he loved you if you asked him - itās just become a daily habit, and if villains found out about how important you were to him they would use you as leverage.
Itās best if he loves you quietly for now, from a comfortable distance. Waiting until the time is right, when there's an excuse to meet you properly, as Dick instead of Nightwing. He knows it's sappy, but he wants to get this right. You're special. He's sure of it.
He has a hard time waiting, though. It's made him a bit hedonistic.
It didn't take much digging to figure out your address, and he learned your schedule naturally by following you around. Finding out that you leave your spare key in the flower pot on the windowsill was pretty simple detective work. It was laughably, terrifyingly simple to break into your home, which only further solidified to him that you needed him around to keep you safe. What would have happened to you if he were someone with malicious intentions?
He only intended to do a quick sweep of your apartment for anything that could have been planted there to harm you, but when he got to your bedroom, his attention was stolen by your laundry basket.
Specifically, the pale pink, lace-trimmed, used panties lying innocuously on top of the pile.
His cheeks warmed as he picked them up, rubbing the silky soft fabric between his fingers. After a moments hesitation, he raised them to his nose, heart pounding in his chest, and inhaled deep. A low groan left his mouth as your scent flooded his senses - sweet and musky and so entirely you it was dizzying. His left hand moved south to fondle himself through his pants.
A little, nagging voice inside of his head yelled that this was wrong. He was supposed to be a shining beacon of morality and good, a person people could look up to and feel safe around. Nightwing was a hero, he would never jack off to an unknowing woman's panties in her own bed.
But Dick Grayson was a man with the same urges as any other, and this is the closest he'd ever gotten to being intimate with the love of his life.
It's that thought that has him falling back onto your bed, nuzzling into the crotch and reaching into his jeans.
Dick Grayson who has the worst post nut clarity of his life that day in your bed. Staring down at the cum covered panties in his hands as a sinking feeling of dread washes over him. He borrows your shower to clean himself up, gets dressed and promises himself as he locks your front door that this would never happen again.
At least until the next time he finds reason to make a house call. And the next. And the next. Heās jacked off in the vast majority of your underwear at this point.
A week goes by, then another. He keeps following you in the shadows whenever he can, waiting patiently for his chance. One night when you go out dancing with your friends in a little black dress that hugs your curves just right, he decides to sneak in and do a little bit of undercover work. He puts on his most charming smile and the leather jacket Babs used to like, strutting up to the bar with that easy air of his, slotting himself a few seats down from you and your friends, waiting for the right time to move.
ā-Iāve talked to the police about it, they just donāt seem to care.ā you sigh, stirring your vodka cranberry with your straw. Your voice is slurred, this probably wasnāt your first of the night. āEverytime I talk to them they tell me that I should invest in a security system and not walk home at night. They look at me like Iām crazy, but I swear someone is following me home.ā
Dick knew that wasn't true because he personally made sure you were never followed. He flagged the bartender over and ordered a beer while you continued.
āI donāt even know who it could be,ā you sniffle, āItās just, Iām so scared all the time. I feel like Iām going to come home one day and get stabbed or something.ā
He watches as something on your face changes with that. Your lip quivers every so slightly, like youāre going to cry, but you purse them and itās gone in an instant. It feels as if his heart is breaking into a billion pieces. He was trying to be careful and do this the right way, but clearly you need someone around to protect you.
It hurts bad, but he also likes seeing this little insecure part of you. It makes him feel special.
He leaves the bar shortly before you and your friends, following a familiar path back to your apartment.
Not that it would be your apartment for much longer.
He doesn't bother breaking in this time, leaves the door unlocked behind him. He sinks into your couch with a dreamy sigh, watching the door intently.
He'd wanted to do this the traditional way, but tonight was proof that all this waiting wasn't good for either of you. You were unsafe without him, he was going a bit insane himself. You'd find it in yourself to forgive him somehow. He was sure of it.
As long as you were together, he wouldn't have it any other way.
