tags Ꮺ vigilante!reader, easily embarrassed tim, lwk don't know how to tag
summary Ꮺ where in which tim drake is easily flustered and you are a very good sweet talker (might make a series out of this)
۪ ੭୧ ˖ You are going to die of embarrassment alone.
Not even a gun fight, like you expected. You were going to die rotting in a cold arkham cell. There was nothing you hated more at this moment than the feeling of stupidity you had for doing your most recent job sloppily and getting seen- by a Robin as well! You hid yourself in a nearby alley, shallowing your breathes into seconds so that you at least had a slim chance of him not catching you. God, you were off the rails tonight. You couldn't even find yourself to hide well enough in the streets, and now you were just anticipating the jail cell that the bird brain chasing you will eventually put you in, and whether or not you can or cannot survive the damp celler in the basement of Arkham, and if the Arkham food is as rotten as they say it actually is-
“Where do you think you're going?” you hear his snarky grin from the edge of the alley. You could jump the fence, but it would take time. Time you don't have. And so, before you knew it, you were standing face to face with the Red Robin. He wore signature mask and known smart-ass look like a shiny medallion. He seemed like he knew he was smart; I mean, it was pretty obvious, but now was not the time to be pointing that out at all.
“Obviously to somewhere to eat next I suppose.” you put your bloody hands into your jacket pockets, standing up and leaning against the brick wall opposite of the chainlink.
You noticed his brisk smile before his face contorts quickly, returning back to his 'casual' demeanor.
“You realize I'm going to have to arrest you, right?” he instead turns a sly smile. Close enough. You nod nonchalantly and he walks deeper into the alley and closer to you. You can feel the air get thicker- you tell yourself it's the regular Gotham smog. Definitely. Is smog warm? Or is it cold? Lukewarm? Nevermind. Anyways you were getting closer and you could feel it.
You had to improvise. And quickly, unless you were gonna hang in Arkham with the Drop Dead Fred villain of the week. “Well I guess you will.” You smiled back at him, even slyer. “You always sneak up this alley pretty boy?”
Pretty boy? Really? We're going to jail.
But god fucking damn it, whoever controlled the heavens above must have been truly empathetic to you today because not only did the shrewd Red Robin freeze completely from your last resort of a flirt— you could see that he was blushing. Genuinely, positively, blushing. If only you weren't at risk of being sent straight to Arkham Asylum with all the other minor lunatics of Gotham, you would have laughed.
You instead, smirked.
Play it cool. Cool. John Travolta cool.
“Cat got your tongue or something?” you held a smirk on your face. You had to make sure you still got out of there before he had the chance to apprehend you, but with his state you had time to think longer. He was so shook it must have been minutes before he stopped stuttering.
And even then, you had gone.
Tim chastised himself. Stupid him— it was his fault you had gotten away. He would have to arrest you next time, and that report was gonna be a nightmare. Goddamnit.
