for love and passion !

when you step out of the burning bar, it’s feels magnetic. nightwing is the first person you make eye contact with as he sits on the streetlamp, analysing the situation. his muscled legs are crouched with those sticks he always carries, dangling from his hands. he’s in his usual suit, tight, all black with his signature blue wings on the front. 

nightwing cocks his head at you then jumps down to your side once he realises you’ve noticed him too.

your friend gasps beside you as nightwing’s presence is all consuming, completely overwhelming. he towers over you by multiple inches and when he crosses his arms across his chest, you gulp.

he is cute. actually, with the size of his biceps and his skin tight suit that takes every ab into consideration as it moulds to his body. nightwing is sexy. fluffy black hair on his head, that stupid mask that hides his identity and those bright blue eyes.

“you okay, pretty lady? you shouldn’t be out in blüdhaven this late.”

he smirks, like the building behind you isn’t slowly crumbling. his canines are white and sharp, only drawing you to his plush pink lips.

“it’s only nine pm, nightwing,” you smile back, tilting your head up at him. your eyes widen, becoming doe like which only draws the man in. “besides, i know that you’ll always be around to look after us.”

you point your thumb towards all the people behind you, still in a worried fluster. everyone’s eyes are on you and this vigilante though, how he shuffles from foot to foot, then stretches his back and arms like he’s preparing to fight.

“don’t you forget it,” he winks, guiding you away from the building with his gloved hand on your waist. then he taps your ass once. a light flirty tap that has you looking around to see if any one saw. you spin round to find he’s vanished, a few people pointing to the top of the building.

“was he flirting with you?” your friend whispers, “nightwing has a crush on you! what the hell?!”

you laugh, looping your arm with hers to drag her away from the building, “it’s probably a bit he does with everybody. come on, i know another bar around the corner from here.”

you groan as you stumble through your front door, leaning back on it once you’re safely inside. you throw down your bag and keys, kicking off your shoes.

“i can’t believe you still went out after the first bar burnt down,” your boyfriend says down the corridor of your apartment, strolling into your vision from your bedroom. 

he’s in one of his old blue t-shirts he leaves at yours, paired with checked grey pyjama bottoms. now this is cute. his hair is all fluffy, black strands slightly curled and strewn over his head. he mustn't have got in too long before you did.

“and i can’t believe you broke into my apartment again, dick,” you yawn, walking over to him in your socks with your arms out like a zombie. you only want a cuddle.

“i’ve told you about leaving your windows open. it’s like you want to get robbed, baby.”

you snuggle into dick’s thick arms, both wrapping around your waist as he lets you lean your body into him. he’s warm, toasty and smells like your shower gel. you want to remind him to buy you some more if he’s always going to be using it but tequila is making your head fuzzy. you’ll have to remember next time.

“there’s nothing for them to take. unless they want a toaster that only toasts one side of both slices. that’s pretty rare,” you laugh, lifting off his chest.

he lays a kiss on your lips, three for good luck and you’re eager to press back into them. dick notes that faulty appliance in his head, he’ll buy you a new one the next time he’s out.

“i’m serious though, baby. you can’t be going—,”

you groan with your forehead pressed into his chunky pectoral. “dickie!” you whine, “if we had your way, i’d never leave my apartment unless you were coming out with me.”

you lick the tip of your thumb and you notice dick follow the movement, lips parted in wonder. you rub at the corner of his left eye. “you’ve still got some eyeshadow, nightwing,” you whisper.

“have i told you that you look pretty today?” dick murmurs, leaning down to press a kiss to the corner of your lips. he can definitely taste the alcohol on your breath and if he closes his eyes, he can imagine how you were dancing at the bar while he was out taking down villains on patrol. he sighs internally.

your grin makes him blush, especially without his mask and suit to hide behind. you, gorgeous and tipsy before him, hands pawing at him like he’s the source of all your comfort. dick just wants to throw you onto your creaky sofa, kiss down your body and look after you for the second time tonight.

“yes actually. right before you slapped my ass, which anybody could have seen by the way,” you point your finger directly in the centre of his chest in warning and your lips pout without realising.

“but nobody did.”

“you can’t be sure.”

“but i am, baby.”

you can’t argue with him before he lists all the tech he used to ensure nobody saw, “well my friend said nightwing has a crush on me. you’ve got competition.”

dick rolls his eyes, a smirk sliding onto his cheeks. he fights with himself, sofa or counter top? he lands on placing his hands under your ass to lift and plop you onto your kitchen counter, right next to your wonky toaster.

the adrenaline from his night patrol jitters through his body, has him squeezing your thighs as your hands snake up his neck and onto his cheeks. you lock your legs behind his back, keeping him flush against your body. you litter kisses along his neck, indulging in the soft moans that rumble through dick’s body.

“i could destroy nightwing even on my worst days,” his voice is like velvet, smooth and thick with desire as he stretches his neck to give you as much space as possible. his hands sneak under your cardigan and camisole, warm hands on smooth skin.

“awh, course you can baby,” you giggle back, giving his earlobe a suck. then you frown, like dick isn’t hardening in his pyjama bottoms every time you lick a stripe across your bottom lip.

“you didn’t get any bruises today did you? did you find out who set the bar alight?”

dick adores how you live unafraid of the city, how you care for blüdhaven just as much as he does and how after a busy day studying for your phd and your part time job, you’re willing to sit beside him, delving through evidence and proof for a case. 

“i thought it was—,”

dick hums, mind elsewhere. specifically on you and your body. “it was. but i sorted it out quickly, gave him to the BCPD.” 

he’s breathless, thrusting you to the edge of the counter so you feel him pressed against your jeans. your breath hitches, fingers gripping the bottom of his t-shirt.

“sounds like you were eager to get home.” 

you just want to check for any bruises or wounds, so you lift dick’s t-shirt to reveal his chest only for him to take it off completely and smother his face with yours.

it’s always been easy with dick, comfortable conversation, tender touches and occasionally mumbled miscommunication. you’re determined to give his body a quick check through while he is close to begging you to pull off your jeans.

“fuck, you looked so gorgeous earlier,” he grunts against your lips, tilting his head to the side to lick his tongue against yours. it only has you copying his noises in response, biting down on his lip when he separates to breathe, then be pulls you in again, “made me wonder what the fuck was i doing saving the city when i could be out keeping you company.”

your hands flatten against his body, feeling down the bumps and ridges of his bare chest. nightwing is sexy but without the mask and kevlar titanium, dick grayson is completely insane. able to get you riled up from looking all boyish in his pyjamas.

“e-everyone was saying you looked good tonight. made me want to shove them all in the river,” you moan, throwing your head back as dick whips off your cardigan and nudges the strap of your camisole with his nose to kiss along your collarbone.

“please baby, can’t have another serial killer on the loose,” he chuckles, nibbling over your breast and you can’t help but card your fingers through his dark locks.

“okay, okay wait,” you remember to mumble, hating the instant cold breeze that hits you when dick pulls away ever so slightly.

he levels you with two creases between his eyebrows, “what? you not up for anything?” his gaze feels tangible, starting at your face to the spot between your legs. “i wanna eat you out, baby. i’ve missed you today.”

the admission makes your whole body flush with heat, your lower stomach burning like a furnace on a winter night. “f-fuck wait, i just need to check.”

you scan his torso for any purple blue bruises on his ribs then his shoulders and biceps. he notices what you’re doing immediately, his half lidded glare of arousal lighting up with endearment, “they didn’t touch me. i was good today, i promised you before i went out.”

he did, whilst you were walking to the bar and he was sitting on top of a building overlooking the city. if it wasn’t for the tracker in your bracelet, you felt as if you could feel him watching you as you walked to your destination. that he could feel the worry that shakes you every time you know he’s out as nightwing.

“i promised you, baby,” he repeats like you need a verbal reminder along with your visual, then he takes your hand to kiss your knuckles. “see? i’m so fucking lucky to have you.”

your eyes are like lasers on him and he’s right, no new bruises or scars. no sign of him even leaving your apartment beside from the leftover eyeshadow you found earlier.

“okay.” you nod, chewing on your bottom lip, “just want to make sure, you know?”

dick understands completely. it doesn’t look like it if you saw nightwing zipping through the streets but he is trying to get hurt less for your sake, so he doesn’t have to see your watery eyes trace another scar across his chest.

with a kiss to the corner of your lips, a smirk finds its way back on dick’s face like it never left, “can i get my reward then?”

giggles spill from you like honey dripping off a spoon, “on the bed, dickie. not much space here.”

it’s the first happy scream of the night when he effortlessly flings you over his shoulder and it’s a reflex how you squeeze his round ass since it’s right there.

“been waiting for this all night,” your boyfriend muses, slapping your ass by his head. “i missed you baby, say it back.”

“hurry up! can’t be upside down for too long or else i’ll—,”

“baby.”

“i missed you too, of course i did.”

His mouth twitches into a frown against your neck. “Stop being dramatic.”

“You weigh so much.”

“That’s fuckin’ rude. And I’m not even on you.”

“You are literally on top of half my body!”

He makes a low, irritated sound at your unwillingness to quietly let him have his way. (Heaven forbid, you think, that you choose not to spend your last moments under his crushing weight.) Stubbornly, his leg hooks more firmly over yours when you try to wiggle away, and his arm tightens around your middle.

“Stop moving,” he mutters.

“Move over.”

“No.”

“C’mon,” you whine, huffing tiredly. “Just move over a little.”

“There’s no space.”

You pause at his words in disbelief. Slowly, you lift your head from the pillow, squinting through the dark room. The curtains are cracked just enough to let a thin line of streetlight spill across the bed, pale and silver over the rumpled sheets. The other half of his bed is empty and untouched, just as you suspected.

Of course it is, when he’s abandoned his own side completely and migrated fully into yours. 

You turn your head to glare at him as you hiss, “You liar.”

He doesn’t even have the decency to look at you as you catch him in his lie. His eyes are still closed, his face still buried in your neck, and his breathing slow and warm against your skin. “Fuck off,” he mumbles. “We’re cuddling.”

“I can’t sleep like this! You’re completely on my side of the bed—”

“It’s our bed,” he instantly corrects, giving you a grumpy look as he cracks one eye open.

“It won’t be for long,” you snap. “I’m going to leave.”

He waits thirty seconds before smugly humming, “Still here, huh? Knew it.”

“Where else am I meant to be?” you hiss, trying to pry his arm off again. “I’m being held hostage here literally against my will!”

He snorts. The sound is small and half-muffled, but you feel it against your skin, and that somehow irritates you even more because he’s clearly enjoying himself. Even despite being disturbed as he tries to sleep (doesn’t he have an early patrol in the morning?), even despite sweating through the sheets with you (and just how is he surviving this heat so unbothered?), even despite being shoved at and scolded (when will he grow a sense of shame?), Katsuki is still having a good time simply because he’s annoying you. 

Your vein all but pops at the smug satisfaction he gets from getting under your skin.

“Katsuki,” you groan, going limp in his hold for one exhausted second. “Please. It’s so hot, and your quirk doesn’t help. Just get off—you’re so stubborn.”

His eyes finally crack open, narrowed and gleaming in the dark. For a moment, he just looks at you—hair messy, expression heavy with sleep, mouth pulled into that signature annoyed little line that it’s always tugged into permanently.

Then he clicks his tongue, offended. “Fine.”

The word is sharp and dramatic, and before you can even feel relieved, he releases you all at once and rolls over onto his back with a huff, taking all of his furnace-like body heat with him. The sudden absence should be a blessing. It is a blessing. You are relieved and can breathe again as cool air slides over your damp skin, and you can finally move freely without his arm compressing your ribs.

But Katsuki, of course, is not done being insufferable.

“So fuckin’ unbelievably rude,” he mutters to himself, purposely loud enough for you to hear clearly. “Always clingy during the day, crawlin’ all over me. Sitting in my lap ‘n stealin’ my food. But when it actually fuckin’ makes sense to cuddle, suddenly it’s a problem.”

You narrow your eyes as you pout, “I am not clingy—and you’re the rude one! It doesn’t make sense to cuddle in this crazy hot weather and die—”

“And if I said that cuddling you would kill me, then you’d send my ass to sleep outside. At least try to hide your fuckin’ double standards.”

“Oh my god,” you whisper to yourself. “He’s impossible.”

“I’m right here, too,” he grumbles flatly, turning to you, mildly offended.

You roll onto your side to face him, propping yourself up on your elbow to look at him better. His arms are crossed over his chest now, biceps flexed, jaw set tight as though you’ve wronged him. (For someone who upholds the justice system of this country, you think it’s ironic of him to act that way—especially when he’s spent the last five minutes trying to suffocate you with his weight and body heat.)

You narrow your eyes. “Fine,” you click your teeth. His gaze cuts to you instantly as you throw the sheet off your legs. “You wanna cuddle?”

His eyes narrow suspiciously. “What’re you doing?”

“Exactly what you want,” you say sweetly, already moving. “You wanted to cuddle. So we’re gonna cuddle.”

“You—”

You roll on top of him before he can finish. All of your weight lands squarely against his chest as you sprawl over him, dramatically making a point to make your limbs seem boneless. One leg hooks over his thigh. One arm flops across his face. Your cheek smushes against his shoulder, and you make sure to go as limp as inconveniently possible.

Katsuki grumbles instantly, “Get off.”

“No,” you mumble into his skin. “We’re cuddling.”

His chest rumbles beneath you. “This shit isn’t how you fuckin’ cuddle, you damn idiot.”

You promptly ignore him, lifting your head just enough to shove your face next to his ear. Then you fake snore loudly. It’s an obnoxiously exaggerated replica of his own snoring.

Katsuki cringes before shoving at you (with little conviction). “Knock it off, moron!”

You snore louder, fighting back a giggle. His hand comes up to shove at your shoulder, but there is no real strength behind it. Not enough to move you, even though he easily could. Not enough to mean it, because he clearly doesn’t. His palm just rests there after a second, warm and broad against you, while he turns his face away like that might hide the way his mouth is starting to twitch.

You see it anyway—the small shake of his chest as the laugh he is trying very, very hard not to give you escapes against his will. You grin at the sight and snore again, right into his ear.

“Brat,” he snaps, but it comes out strained as he fights back a chuckle.

“Shhh,” you mumble, patting his cheek with the hand still flung half over his face. “I’m sleeping. You’re ruining our cuddle.”

“You’re ruining my life.”

“You’re the one who asked me out, so it’s your fault.”

“Well, I guess even I make mistakes.”

“So mean!” You gasp, lifting your head as you demand, “You’re saying I’m a mistake?!”

This time, the laugh actually breaks out of him. It is short and boyish, and it’s not something a lot of people witness. But you do—quite often, in fact, and you can’t help but melt at how sweet the sound is. Finally, you give in and properly curl against his chest, relieving him of the uncomfortable position your body is in over his upper half. Your eyes meet his, and you stare for a moment at each other before he looks away to the side. 

The tips of his ears are just slightly red, you think—but it’s too dark to tell for sure.

“Just go the fuck back to sleep,” he mutters.

“Sure thing,” you beam as you tuck your face into his neck and fake snore one more time.

Katsuki pinches your side. You laugh into his chest, and this time, when he huffs in annoyance, he does not bother hiding the smile.