dick grayson x reader ⚠︎︎ kill order

one

" watching from a distance, I want to know you, love you— all of you "

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Blüdhaven was
and always will be some where Dick Grayson held close to his heart. It was where he put his own roots down to grown— roots that weren't being suffocated by the overbearing presence of Bruce Wayne. 

He'd bought himself a loft, he'd gotten himself a job and he'd started to make friends but a new town also brought new problems. Loneliness was one of them.

Back in Gotham, he was always surrounding himself with women and parties and his secret life as a caped vigilantly. Now, on the contrary, he'd go back to an empty house, tired to the bone only to watch Batman on every 11 o'clock news channel.

He slumped into his couch, hazily watching the television with a beer bottle in his hand. Blüdhaven was different, he thought to himself, a fresh start just for me. But his old life always had a way of sneaking it's way back in.

He should really invest in curtains, y/n thought as she sat on the roof top parallel to Dick Grayson's loft. She pressed a pair of binoculars to her eye sockets as she watched him. A sad man, who inevitably had to die.

Why he had to die? Y/n didn't know. There were just a some things in her line of work that she didn't need to know. Her legs dangled over the building and the air smelt of cigarette smoke.

From watching the man, she couldn't tell what was so out of the ordinary. He would wake up at 6:30 am every day and drove to work, where he would be a model employee and a top detective until 8:30 pm.

From then on, the routine would vary: he would either come home with take-out, groceries and every blue moon, he'd have a very beautiful ginger woman over for a visit.

"How are you going to die?" She wondered out loud. She tapped her finger against her temple as she thought.

There were millions of ways to kill him and her employer never specified how he would go. Although, there was a tug in her stomach that made her doubt every decision.

She had been watching him for two weeks yet she knew little of his life from ages 12-19. She'd learned of the tragic deaths of his parents and how he was adopted by a billionaire but there was nothing that suggested he needed to die.

Someone could be trying to get at his adoptive father, she reasoned but her subconscious shooed out the idea.

When she watched Dick Grayson she felt different. Something she never felt with any of her other gigs. It was a stomach churning feeling that made her feverish.

It seemed to occur whenever he would laugh at the tv, his nose would scrunch, showing off his dimples or when he sat with his muscles relaxed at his kitchen table, doing a cross word puzzle with a fresh cup of joe at the crack of dawn.

His little quirks made y/n feel weak, and when you're weak you can't get a job done and y/n never leaves a job incomplete.