Despite his responsibilities as Nightwing, Dick made sure to be a good boyfriend, ensuring he would spend Valentines with you.

Today, he wasn’t Nightwing. He wasn’t a vigilante. He was Dick. Your Dick.

There was a knock at the door and you open it to find your boyfriend with a bouquet of roses, chocolates, and a teddy bear in hand, casually leaning against the door frame.

“Pretty flowers for a pretty lady,” he murmurs softly, leaning in and kissing you before handing the gifts to you.