Dick Grayson Imagines

Pinch Me

The doorbell rang for the thirty-seventh time in a row before you screamed into your pillow and finally caved in. What idiot goes to your house at four in the morning without warning!? Your friends, maybe, but they were given spare keys; knowing all too well that such instances were foreseen.

Taking a deep sigh filled with exhaustion and impatience, you pulled yourself out of bed and walked out of your room. The ding-dongs grew louder and even more annoying with each step you took down the stairs.

When you finally made it to the doorstep, you rubbed your drowsy eyes and pinched the bridge of your nose as your brows knitted together in frustration.

"Can I help you?" You asked once the wooden door swung open; your tone a little too forceful than welcoming.

The man that stood opposite from you looked slightly flustered; from what you could receive by his facial features, at least. A black domino mask laid atop where his eyes were, had an untamed hairstyle of raven locks, but the rest of his body had a more intimidating stance. He had a build for fighting, and would most likely destroy you in a fist-fight. This stranger wore a skin-tight black suit with the symbol of a blue bird spread across his chest and had escrima sticks equipped from his back. You know who this person is.

You've got to admit, that's some damn good cosplay.

"Okay," He spoke, taking a deep breath afterwards. "I know it's like crazy early in the morning for me to come here like this, but you're the only person I could go to for help!"

"All... right?" Was all you could bring yourself to reply. Some bozo who was delusional enough to convince himself he's a fictional superhero was standing at your front door, and if you didn't play your cards right, the next time you would be seen in public could probably be in a body bag. "Um... You know who I am?"

"Yes!" He nodded, smiling brightly. "You might not know me, though. I'm-"

"No need for formalities, Grayson," You waved off. "I wonder who put you up to this-"

Though you couldn't take not of it, the vigilante's eyes widened behind his mask; turning back right after, then inched towards you until you felt one of the walls make contact with your back.

"How do you know who I am?" Nightwing growled, his cerulean eyes narrowed beneath the domino mask.

"You just broke into my house, creep!" You retaliated, pushing him out of your personal space. "I think I should be asking the questions here."

For a moment, the hero opened his mouth to counter-argue, but sealed his mouth once he noticed you had your phone on you; the cops on speed-dial.

"Fine. I don't know how the hell you found out my secret identity,"

You scoffed at his words; rolling your (E/C) in exaggeration.

"Anyways," He continued, clearly ignoring your reaction. "I'm assuming you have some knowledge on zetatubes?"

You nodded; actively listening to this stranger's story.

"Good. To make a long story short, one of them has been experiencing some technical difficulties, which brought me here instead of the Wayne Manor."

"And... I should believe you, why?" You say, raising an eyebrow while tilting your head to the side while scratching the nape of your neck.

"You know who I am! Isn't that enough?" Nightwing answered; desperately fighting the confusion in his voice.

"Ah, no. Nuh-uh. Not really, no." You shook your head, chuckling faintly. "I refuse to believe that the Dick Grayson, is standing in the living room of my house right now, trying to convince me that it was a zetatube malfunction that caused the most gorgeous hero to ever exist to end up at my home!? I'll admit, you're the hottest cosplayer I've ever met, but I'm not going to entertain this act any longer."