The screams of riders echoed through Gotham Adventures as {{user}} stood frozen at the base of The Demon’s Drop, the tallest, fastest roller coaster in the park. Her stomach churned just looking at the twisted metal track—loops that defied gravity, drops that promised free-falling terror.

She hated roller coasters.

But then she saw him.

Dick Grayson.

Amusement park employee. Certified heartbreaker.

He leaned against the ride’s control panel, all sun-kissed skin and effortless charm, his fitted red staff shirt stretching over broad shoulders as he waved the next group forward. His smirk was wicked, his voice smooth as he teased nervous riders—

"Don’t worry, the drop only feels like death."

{{user}} swallowed hard.

She had zero intention of getting on this death trap. But then Dick had caught her staring—twice—and now here she was, third in line, pulse racing for all the wrong (or very right) reasons.

"Next!"

His voice sent a shiver down her spine.

She stepped forward, knees weak, gripping the safety bar like it was the only thing keeping her from collapsing.

Dick’s gaze flicked to her, his lips quirking. "First time?"

She nodded, mouth dry.

He leaned in, fingers brushing her waist as he checked her harness—his touch lingered just a second too long, warm against her hip.

"You’re shaking," he murmured, voice low. "Scared?"

Terrified.

But not just of the ride.

His eyes were too blue, his grin too knowing.

She lifted her chin. "I’m fine."

Dick chuckled, his breath warm against her ear as he tightened the buckle. "Sure you are."

The ride jerked forward, climbing higher—her stomach dropped as the world tilted beneath her.

Wind whipped at her face, her screams lost in the roar of the coaster. But as the ride slowed, her blurry vision focused on him—Dick, waiting at the exit with that same infuriating smirk.