UPDATED: I was watching a movie and felt like I may have accidentally plagiarized or something, that is the LAST thing I wanted. So I changed the story a little.

I've been wanting to write something new for my favourite OTP––so this idea just kinda popped up in my head at 1 AM (just as I was about to sleep) while I was listening to JoJo (an album I hadn't listened to in years).

Song Inspiring: LET IT RAIN by JoJo

DISCLAIMER: Do we really still need these things? Because I think it's pretty clear that I don't own anything––I'm broke as hell.


Nobody thought Raven could ever be frightened given that she faced bandits, robots, and her own demonic father in her youth; however, being alone with Dick Grayson in his apartment scared the crap out of her.

He was in her town and happened to drop by the bar––Raven's regular hangout after work––and see her. He should've told her about his plans to visit, yet warnings probably wouldn't've been enough time to prepare herself for when her former teammate invited her back to his room (in one of Bruce Wayne's many condos). Why did she say "yes"? Well, she missed him, it was raining, and he mentioned drinks.

"I never took you as a fan of bourbon," Dick said, hoping to goad a response.

But she never turned around to look at him, "It's an acquired taste, I'll admit," instead she appeared more fascinated with the record player collecting dust behind his couch, "But I grew with it, given that I have access to it." He handed her a glass, sipping from his own, and watched her delicate fingers graze the tops of the many Vinyls he kept in a lonely cardboard box. When he moved over to put his arm around her waist, Raven sidestepped.

"Don't be rude, Raven." She laughed, and he enjoyed the sound. He put his hand on her, relieved when she didn't move away. He pushed the strands of hair that were protecting her neck, and sniffed the skin of her shoulder. Hmmm…roses.

"You're very touchy when you reunite with your friends," Raven tried to incorporate reality. She was distracted by the sound of the storm outside and Dick worshiping her skin. "Barbara, Kori, and Helena would agree?" Cheap shot.

Dick responded by nibbling on her earlobe, "Probably. I know it's not exactly proper etiquette but…what do you think?"

She unconsciously closed her eyes and tilted her neck, giving him buffet access to her skin, "I don't enough experience to come to a conclusion." His laughter tickled her the same way Garfield's hair did whenever he took the form of a cat.

"I'd be happy to provide the experience," he mumbled against her pulse. She turned around (trapped against the table) and placed her hands on the silk of his shirt. Dick didn't waste time to taste her and nearly tore off her neck in his haste.

"I've observed from a distance, Grayson, and you do seem to fall hard and a lot." The water seemed to react to her statement since the water beat against the window even harder.

"That's too bad that you've only seen from a distance," he finally met her eyes, "because I'd like you to get a one-on-one exchange," he traced her cheekbones with his index finger, "if you'd allow me."

Raven pushed for him to give her space now that she was given awareness again, "I don't want to be a flower you pick from a bouquet." She didn't mean that as an insult to his former lovers; she just didn't want to be the next notch.

"You're not," Dick said with a seriousness she'd only seen when he spoke to Batman, "I want to prove that to you, and I want you to let me. I won't let you go, Raven."

"I haven't said 'yes'," the empath reminded him.

"And you haven't said 'no'."

"What do you want from me, Grayson?"

Dick said, "I want your heart. I have for a long time. But more importantly, Raven, I want to give you mine. And I don't give up so easily."

"I know you're capable of giving it," Raven turned around but still held his hand, "but I'm still not sure if you're ready for me to be the one to accept it." She was startled when he pressed her against a concrete wall––that, and the lightening thought it'd be a fun time to strike.

"I'm sure," he said with authority, like he knew what he was getting into by loving Raven. He pressed his forehead and brushed his nose against hers, 'I want this. I want you."

"No refunds," she said as she played with his tie, "Definitely no exchanges."

He pecked each cheek, "I'm supposed to get 30 days, or something."

"I swear, Grayson, if you––"

He kissed her before she could finish; she tasted like blackberries. He pushed against her like he was trying to glue her to the wall with his force. When Raven tried to caress his face, Dick forbade it. He moved her hands against the concrete so she would have no choice to hold their intertwined fingers above her head. He pulled away and held her tighter against the wall when she tried to follow. He sent his hands underneath her shirt to rub the sides of her breasts. He laughed when her nipples saluted him and her back arched, making her grimace at his amusement.

Dick leaned into her ear, "You're mine, Raven."

"I'm no possession," she said (even though she knew exactly what he meant).

"We'll see about that," he joked as a free hand flicked the button of her pants. With more force, he could've popped it off.

Raven whined when he removed his hands to kneel in front of her. He pushed her shirt up so he could kiss her navel. Then he pulled down her pants mid-thigh so he could greet her silk underwear. She hissed when she felt his lips kiss her stomach in a pattern, like he was trying to write the letter "R" with his tongue. His fingers were inside the sides of underwear, pulling the garment down at a glacial rate.

Dick pulled away, "I think the rain stopped," and looked up at her skin quaking because of exposure.

"That didn't mean you have to," she said.

He just laughed.