Dick Grayson Imagines

Achilles' Heel II

"Morning, Dickie babe."

As you brush a loose strand of hair from your Dick's face, you leave a short, sweet peck on your lover's lips; letting out a soft giggle afterwards. He, then, exhales through his nose, right before wrapping his arms around your waist much tighter; causing you to erupt in even more giggles as you feel your body pulled flush against his.

"Mmm, what's so funny, beautiful?" he asks in a husky voice, lazily playing with one of your (H/C) locks as you continue to chuckle. "Good morning, yourself."

"You're going to be late for work if you don't get your perfectly-sculpted butt out of this bed. Like, right now." you say, rolling your eyes.

"Well, this perfectly-sculpted butt can call in sick, as long as it means my fiancé can stay in my arms."

The half-asleep man proceeds to tighten his arms around you even more, showering every inch of your face in kisses.

"D-Dick!" you squeal. "Stop! I have work too, you dummy!"

"Take the day off too, then we can have the whole day to ourselves. Doesn't that sound perfect, love?"

"Dickie babe, you're forgetting something."

"What is it, (N/N)-babe?"

"We're not engaged. We're not even together. I'm dead, Dick."

"What?"

After Dick rubs his eyes, he comes to realize that his lover is no longer in his arms. Despite the single spotlight shining down on him, the remainder of his surroundings are pitch black. The former Boy Wonder finds himself knelt down before the Master of Fear himself; chuckling maliciously as he carries your lifeless corpse bridal-style before carelessly letting you fall to the ground.

"Ironic to see how those who desperately try hard to not become the thing they don't want to be," the villain spoke in a composed demeanour. 

"become them, anyways."

In the dead of night, Dick shot out of bed. His chest rose and fell heavily as he breaks out into a sweat, hastily running his hands through his hair. Once reality sets in again, the hero regains his sanity; finding himself coming from another hellish nightmare, still in his apartment in Blüdhaven.

When he eases himself back into his bed once more, Dick tosses and turns in a pathetic attempt to drive him to sleep once more. He's restless, and there was only one cure for him to relieve him of his dreadful insomnia.

"Penny for your troubles, Dickie?"

At the sound of her soft giggles, the beaten-up vigilante briefly forgets about all the pain retrieved from his injuries after patrol; shooting his roommate a weak smile as he walks into your bedroom.

"If we're talking about me, (Y/N), I think we're gonna need a wheelbarrow of pennies for that." Dick remarks, taking in the sight of his best friend casually relaxing on her bed; legs crossed over her (F/C) comforter, a pillow arched against the headboard to support her back, and her favourite paperback novel in her hands.

"I've got all night, Grayson." you insist, scooting over to make some room in your bed and patting the now vacant area beside you. "Without free therapy sessions, what are friends for?"

Stepping into your former quarters once again, Dick is now welcomed by the chilling silence and the evident lack of your presence. He knows that it was probably best to put away your stuff; seeing that there wouldn't be much use of your belongings simply residing in a room that no longer had an occupant, collecting dust when it could be put out of its misery by being thrown away or placed into donation.