dick grayson x reader ⚠︎︎ kill order

seven

" do what you can to get things done, it'll be worth it in the end when your troubles finally slip away "

•
Nobody likes
it when someone tells them how to do their job; especially y/n. She had a certain way she went about business. For starters; she never used guns to kill— they were too easy and she wasn't getting paid for easy.

So when her employer called, she was forced to listen to his complaints.

"Y/n, how long do these things really take? Because honestly, I'm getting impatient." She sighed over the phone as she rushed down the street. She was hesitant to talk as she was trying to avoid unwanted eavesdroppers.

"Sir, this ones a bit different, in order to effectively finish the job I have to use other tactics." She stated, not mentioning how she had discovered his secret identity. Although, something about this gig told her that her employer already knew Dick Grayson was Nightwing.

"I hired you because of your reviews, they say you get the job done quickly. So let me make it clear to you; I don't care if you have to behead him in an alleyway— Dick Grayson needs to die." His voice was poisonous, with hints of a more posh accent. She stopped, she had made her way to her apartment.

Y/n stood in the elevator alone, where she could speak safely.

"He's the adoptive son of Bruce Wayne and he's a homicide detective at the BCPD. If anyone suspects even the tiniest bit of foul play, it could expose not only me but your whole scheme." She had no idea who could've been on the other end. There was no way she could put a face or name to the voice and that wouldn't fly well for an immunity deal.

The man laughed wickedly, send chills up y/n's spine. "Then you better not get caught." He hung up.

Y/n groaned, crouching, covering her eyes. She couldn't figure out why this case was so difficult. It used to be so easy for her to end someone's life but now, things were different. Maybe it was because most of the people she was hired to kill were horrible people while Dick Grayson was actually one of the good guys.

She was pissed off. It was hard enough dealing with Dick's boastful attitude but her employer was also a pain in the ass. Y/n snapped out of it; she needed the money.

This was suppose to be her last job, a job big enough that she could run off the grid in a tropical country south of the states. She just wanted to escape the life she had, a life she's been forced into.

Y/n wanted to feel safe when she walked home and she needed her own sanctuary. She wanted to have
friends— real friends, who wouldn't kill her if they felt threatened.

Her throat was sore but felt better as the sweet, warm drink ran through her body. She took a deep breath. One more job, she reminded herself, trying to stay motivated.

She fell onto her bed, wanting to disappear. Y/n was only there for a second, though, before sitting up and heading to her wardrobe cabinet.

As she opened its doors, it wasn't clothing that she kept stored in there but her files on Dick Grayson. She scanned over then, countless times, trying to pick out how she was going to conveniently 'bump into him.'