Synopsis: you did the âhungry orphanâ prank where you asked them what they would do if a burglar barged in, but you turn on the camera and ask them something else.
An: requested by @castielispunkrock
DICK GRAYSON
âHey Dick, what would you do if a burglar tried to break in and rob us?â You asked innocently, trying to hide your camera from his eyes.
âWell first, Iâd probably grab him by his collar and slam him down on the floor. Then after Iâm done with that, if he tries to get upâIâll grab a bat and beat the hell out of him!â You were giggling louder with each word Dick was spitting out, something about âpunching him til he criesâ and âstanding ontop of him to show how great he isâ
âOkay okay! We get it now.â You prepared your phone and started to record again. âI asked my boyfriend what he would do if a hungry orphan asked him for food.â Dick froze. You did not say that.
âWait wait wait! Thatâs not what you said! You saidââ and the video cuts off to his response. You immediately sent that video to the family group chat.
JASON TODD
âHey Jay, If someone tried to break in and steal from us, what would you do?â Jason was in the middle of chewing on his batburger. Again with these hypotheticals? He thought to himself, but he is your personal jester after all, he has to dance to your whims
âIâd probably just punch them, that usually takes them out immediately.â He shrugged, taking another bite. âBut if they didnâtâIâd probably just use your bag to beat the shit out of it.â He answered casually, taking a sip from his soda.
While he was distracted with his food like a fatass you prepared your camera. âHii! Iâm here with Jason, and I asked him what he would do if a starving orphan asked for food.â Jason almost choked on his own food, staring at you with wide eyes. âHey nowââ he interrupted, food crumbs spitting out of his mouth. âYou asked me something completely unrelated!â Before you could send it to anyone, he immediately grabbed your phone and held it above his head.
âYouâre not getting this back!â He shouted playfully, making you chase him around the apartment for your phone back. For 2 hours.
TIM DRAKE
Tim just came back from patrol, you could practically feel how tired he was from a mile away. He slowly approached your shared bed before passing out on it immediately. But then you had an idea⊠the detective could easily be fooled in this state! âBaby? You awake?â You asked with genuine concern.
âUh huhâŠâ he groaned, burying his face in your stomach.
âWhat would you do if someone tried to break in right now to kill you?â Tim paused at your question. What a strange thing to ask, he thought. âWellâŠIâd probably like beat em a whole bunchâŠthen grab them by the leg and throw them out the window..â he yawned, his eyes growing heavy with each word. You almost felt bad for pranking him like this.
âHeyy! Iâm here with Tim and I just asked him what he would do if he babysat a sick infant!â It took him a little over 5 seconds to realize what exactly you just said. âWaitâŠI thought you asked what would happen ifââ
DAMIAN WAYNE
You didnât know how much longer you could take seeing him train without paying attention to youâbut then an idea struck your mind. âDaimi!â You called out, waving your hands for him to come closerâto which he did. âYes beloved?â
âWhat would you do if someone tried to kidnap me?â Damian paused for a second, thinking real hard about his answer.
âWell first off, Iâd cut their hands off.â He grabbed his katana and put it back in his sheath. âIf for whatever reason they still tryâIâll grab them by the hair and spin them around before slamming them downâthen squash them like a bug.â He answered proudly, having a slight smile on his face.
âOkay okay,â you started the video, âIâm here with my boyfriend and I just asked him what heâd do if he saw a stray puppy on the road.â Damian froze, his expression filled with the highest form of betrayal.
âWhat? No! I would never do such thing to a puppy, (name)!â He seemed genuinely stressed out, before grabbing your phone and sliding it into his pocket. âYouâre not getting this back until you go out to the shelter with me and watch me talk care of puppies!â He exclaimed, pouting aggressively.
heyyy, I usually don't make requests but I really like your style so could I have a bat boys with a reader who's cynical about Love and doesn't trust men easily? they're not like rude about it but maybe they don't take the boys sweet words as genuine, or also they're surprised when the boys actually apologize when they upset the reader :)
Prove It
requests are open
dividers by @cafekitsune
Dick Grayson
Dick said "I love you" the way other people said "good morning" â easily, often, like it cost him nothing.
That was the problem.
"You say that to everyone," you told him, the third time he'd said it that week, not unkindly, just stating a fact you'd already made peace with.
"I don't say it to everyone."
"You said it to a barista yesterday."
"She made my coffee perfectly on the first try. That's a love-worthy achievement."
"See, that's exactly my point." You didn't look up from what you were doing. "Words don't mean anything if you spend them on everything. I'm not trying to be difficult. I just don't know how to tell the difference between you meaning it and you being you."
Dick went quiet at that â actually quiet, which was rare enough that you glanced up to check he was still in the room.
"Okay," he said finally. "That's fair. I didn't realize it landed like that."
"It's not a big dealâ"
"It is, though. If I've made you feel like the thing I say to you is the same thing I say to a barista, that's on me." He sat down across from you, serious now in a way the easy charm usually covered up. "I'm not going to stop saying it. But I'm going to start showing you the difference, so you don't have to take my word for it."
He did. Not in one grand gesture â Dick wasn't built for grand gestures, not really, not the kind that looked good and meant nothing â but in the small relentless proof of someone who remembered what you'd said and decided to spend the next several months answering it.
He showed up to the things he said he'd show up to. He asked about your day and waited for the actual answer instead of the polite one. He stopped saying it so easily to everyone else, not because you'd asked him to, but because â he told you, somewhat embarrassed about it â he'd noticed how much weight he was supposed to be putting behind the words and didn't want to dilute it anymore.
"You don't have to perform it," you told him, months later, half-laughing, after he'd shown up at your door at midnight with soup because you'd mentioned feeling sick in passing, hours ago, to someone else entirely.
"I'm not performing anything. I just heard you weren't feeling good." He set the soup down like it was nothing. "I told you. Proof, not promises."
"You actually meant that."
"I actually meant that." He sat next to you, easy as always, but steadier now, in the way that mattered. "I know you don't trust this kind of thing easily. I'm not in a hurry. I just want you to know I'm not going anywhere, and I'm not going to get tired of proving it."
You let yourself believe him. Slowly. The way you let yourself believe anything now.
It turned out to be the right call.
Jason Todd
Jason had a temper, and you'd known that going in â it wasn't a secret, wasn't something he hid, it sat right there on the surface of him like a warning label. What you hadn't expected was the night it actually came out at you.
It wasn't even about anything that mattered. A canceled plan, a bad day stacked on a worse one, a comment you'd made that landed wrong on a man who was already carrying too much. He snapped. Said something sharp and unfair and immediately regrettable, the kind of thing said in the heat of a moment that had nothing to do with you and everything to do with whatever he hadn't dealt with that day.
You didn't yell back. You just went quiet, the specific quiet of someone recalibrating â okay, so this is who he actually is when it counts â and started gathering your things.
"Don't," Jason said, voice already different. "Don't do the thing where you leave and decide I'm just another guy who doesn't deserve the benefit of the doubt."
"I'm not deciding anything. I'm giving you space."
"You're leaving because I proved a theory you already had." His jaw was tight. "I know that's what this looks like. I know what it looks like when I lose it and someone decides that's the real me and the rest was an act."
"Is it?"
"No." He said it immediately, no hesitation, like the question physically hurt. "And I know I don't get to just say that and have it fix anything. I was out of line. What I said wasn't fair, and it wasn't about you, and I took something out on you that you didn't deserve."
You stopped at the door. Didn't turn around yet.
"People apologize like that all the time," you said. "Doesn't mean it sticks."
"I know." A pause. "So don't take my word for it. Watch what I do instead. I'm not asking you to forgive me right now. I'm asking you to let me show you I meant it."
You turned around. He hadn't moved closer, hadn't tried to close the distance â just stood there, looking like a man bracing for the consequence he thought he'd earned.
"That's the first time anyone's apologized to me like they actually understood what they did," you admitted. "Usually it's just sorry-you're-upset. Not sorry-I-did-it."
"I know the difference." His voice was rough. "I've been on the other end of the fake kind enough times to know exactly how it sounds. I'm not doing that to you."
He didn't fix it that night. He fixed it over the next several weeks â checking in before he let something boil over, telling you when he was having a bad day instead of letting it leak out sideways, actually sitting with the discomfort of being wrong instead of explaining his way out of it.
"You're allowed to still be careful with me," he told you, once, when he caught you watching him a little warily after a tense conversation that hadn't gone anywhere near as badly as it could have. "I earned the caution. I'd rather you trust the pattern than trust a feeling."
"That's a very mature thing to say for a man with as many guns as you own."
"I contain layers."
You believed the pattern, eventually. Not the words â never just the words, not with him, not with anyone. But the pattern didn't lie, and the pattern, slowly, kept saying the same thing: he meant it.
Tim Drake
Tim apologized like he was solving a problem, which made sense, because to Tim, most things were problems with solutions if you were thorough enough about finding them.
The first time he upset you, it was something small â he'd brushed off a concern you'd raised because he was deep in a case and hadn't fully registered you were talking, and you'd gone quiet in the specific way you went quiet when you'd decided not to bother saying it twice.
"You're upset," he said, twenty minutes later, looking up from his laptop like he'd just run the numbers on something and didn't like the result.
"I'm fine."
"You said something fifteen minutes ago and I gave you a one-word answer without looking up. That's not nothing." He closed the laptop, which you noted, because Tim closing the laptop for anything short of an emergency was its own kind of statement. "I wasn't listening. That's on me, not you, and I don't want you deciding it's easier to just stop bringing things to me because I was distracted."
"It's really not that big a deal, Tim."
"It is, though, because if I let it slide now, it becomes a habit, and then in a year you've stopped telling me things because you've learned I won't actually hear them." He said it plainly, no performance to it, just the clear-eyed logic of someone who'd clearly already thought this through before you'd finished being annoyed about it. "So. I'm sorry. Genuinely â not the kind where I say sorry to end the conversation. Tell me again. I'm listening this time."
You told him again. He listened â actually listened, the kind where he asked a follow-up question that proved he'd absorbed it instead of just waited his turn to talk.
"You're surprisingly good at that," you said, after.
"At apologizing?"
"At meaning it instead of just performing it. Most people apologize to get past the moment. You apologize like you're trying to actually fix the thing that caused it."
"That's the only kind of apology that's useful." He shrugged, like it was obvious. "Saying sorry without changing anything is just a more polite way of telling someone their feelings were an inconvenience you'd like to move past quickly. I'd rather actually fix it. Takes longer. Works better."
It became a pattern with him â not flashy, not dramatic, just quietly consistent. He noticed things. He adjusted. When he got something wrong, he didn't get defensive about it; he treated it like data, something to be corrected rather than argued with.
"You really don't get offended when I call you out," you said once, half-testing.
"Being offended doesn't fix anything. It just makes the next conversation harder." He looked at you, steady, a little soft around the edges in the way he only ever was with you. "I'd rather hear it from you than guess wrong and lose you slowly without knowing why."
You hadn't expected to find that kind of safety in someone so methodical about it. But it turned out method was its own kind of devotion, if you paid attention to what it was actually in service of.
Duke Thomas
Duke had a way of making mistakes look like learning opportunities, which should have been annoying and somehow wasn't, because he never used it as an excuse â just as a way of getting somewhere better than where he'd started.
He upset you over something he hadn't realized was sensitive â a joke that landed wrong, brushing past something you'd mentioned once, in passing, that turned out to matter more than he'd registered. You didn't make a thing of it. You'd learned, a long time ago, that making a thing of it rarely got you anywhere good, so you just got quieter, pulled back an inch, the way you always did when something stung more than you wanted to admit.
Duke noticed within the hour.
"I said something," he said. Not a question. "I don't know what, exactly, but I know the look. What'd I get wrong?"
"It's fine."
"It's not, or you wouldn't have that face on." He sat down properly, giving you his full attention in a way that made it hard to keep brushing it off. "I'd rather you just tell me. I can't fix something I didn't know I broke."
So you told him. He listened without interrupting, without getting defensive, without doing the thing some men did where they started building their case for why it wasn't actually that bad before you'd even finished talking.
"Okay," he said, when you were done. "That's on me. I didn't know that mattered to you, but now I do, and I should've been more careful with it regardless. I'm sorry â actually sorry, not sorry-you're-upset sorry."
"You say that like it's a meaningful distinction."
"It is, though. Half the apologies people give are just trying to make the discomfort stop. I want you to actually know I get why it landed wrong, not just that I want the awkward part to be over."
"That's surprisingly self-aware for someone who just stepped on a landmine an hour ago."
"I step on a lot of landmines. Comes with the job of caring about someone who doesn't volunteer information easily." He said it lightly, no judgment in it. "I'd rather learn the hard way than not learn at all. Just means I'll get there eventually. Promise."
He did get there. Not all at once â there were more landmines, more small missteps, the ordinary mess of two people learning each other properly â but every single time, he did the same thing: noticed, asked, listened, adjusted. Never defensive. Never making you do the work of managing his guilt on top of your own hurt.
"You don't flinch when I call you out," you told him, once, genuinely curious about it.
"Why would I? You're not attacking me. You're telling me something true so I can do better. That's a gift, not a problem." He bumped his shoulder against yours. "I know you don't hand out trust easy. I'm not trying to talk you into it. I'm just trying to keep being the kind of person it makes sense to trust, every single time you check."
You checked, often, in the beginning. Quietly, the way you checked everything.
He passed, every time. Eventually, you stopped checking so hard, and just let yourself believe what the pattern had been telling you all along.
weâll still have the summer after all
summer fling with tim drake
warnings | suggestive
and it's you and me in the summertime! for more summer oneshots!
playing | summerboy- lady gaga
The sun burnt your eyes through the sunglasses you wore as you helped your family move into the summer house you stayed at during the season. It was close to the dingy but clean beach Gotham had, just short of a 10-minute walk, and you could already see the sand and the water calling for you.
Despite living in Metropolis, your home will always be Gotham with its shitty rogues and interesting vigilantes. Plus, the first was hotter than the latter in the summer, so your family just goes back when the sun begins to overheat your thoughts. Your friends and family were already aware of your return to the city, but you still had to announce it to someone else.
Setting down the last suitcase on your loft in the beach house, you took out your phone, looking for the very familiar contact. It brought a smile to your face, seeing the chat with him, and you looked at some photos stuck on the walls from last summer, spent together like you always did.
You: heyyyyyy, Iâm back
Your phone dinged the second you put it in your pocket to unpack:
Tims: thatâs too many yâs to be considered a normal greeting
Tims: did you just arrive or are you telling me to meet at our spot rn?
Tims: bcs if itâs the second youâre gonna have to wait until the evening, iâm stuck in the office all day
You: just started unpacking, got a huge haul of clothes to show you ;)
Excited at the possibility of seeing him that same day even though he was busy made you feel jitters all over your body, and while waiting for his message, you went to the side of the room where the a full window stood, looking over the water. A vibration softly shot through your hand.
Tims: hypothetically speaking, if I could leave for lunch, would you want to come w/ me?
Tims: Iâll pick you up at 2, our go-to sushi?
You: best welcome ever, Iâll see you at 2 tim
You: missed you btw
Tims: fucking hell I missed you sm too, Iâll see you
Days came and went and your usual meet ups were even more frequent than other years, now seeing each other even multiple times a day. You two had a weird relationship going on, labelled as âsummer fling but whenever we go to the otherâs cities we meet upâ kind of relationship. And it worked perfectly.
You were childhood friends who got out of galas together as kids, snuck out to college parties as teenagers, and supported the ups and downs of early adulthood. Each otherâs person, pretty much. But somewhere along the way, evident attraction got involved and it resulted in this situation.
Both of you were busy people who didnât want to spend months meeting others just for them to turn out childish and immature and cheat on you after a few months, but you also wanted a little something. Considering you lived in different cities but still wanted to keep this going, your situationship evolved into a more mature and fling/ friends with benefits.
Either way, the both of you were satisfied and happy with the arrangement, so you just had fun with each other.
On a July Saturday morning, you met up to go to the beach, settling down into a more secluded corner to cover up from stray eyes because, after all, he was still Tim Drake and people liked to stare and gossip. Your towels were set together, and you were applying sunscreen absentmindedly before sunbathing for a while. Before laying down, Tim said âhey, untie the strings of your bikini really quickly for meâ.
âWoah! Pump the horny breaks, fox and friends! Tim this is a public beach! There are children around!â you replied with a smug grin spear on your face as you peeked over your sunglasses, knowing damn well he just wanted to apply sunscreen on your back but still teasing him.
âJesus fucking christ, you and your damn tik tok references. Just turn around because if you get burnt to the crisp like last year, I swear Iâm not gonna massage your back with aloe or listen to your wailsâ he answered a bit flustered, he was used to your playful and shameless flirting, but it always took him a few days to remember how over the top it can get.
âJust playing with you, babyâ you muttered as you pressed a kiss to his cheek and turned around to do as he said, letting the strings fall on your sides as you secured your top while he applied the product with his slight cool hands. His hands wandered a bit more than they shouldâve over your back, but neither of you made a comment on it.
You: [1 photo attachment]
You: you left my heels exactly where I kept them last year after you took me home last night and I passed out?
Tims: yeah?
Tims: you told me that you liked things organised your way, least I could do is help you when youâre tired
You: iâm gonna give you the biggest fattest smooch when I see you tonight
Tims: can I get more than a smooch if I tell you that Iâve made a reservation to that place we like so you can wear the dress I bought you last week?
You: weâre making out later.
You: mark a two-hour gap in your calendar for me sweetie
You: xoxo
Tims: i love my life
As the august waves crashed into Gotham docks, you and Tim were driving right beside the coastline in a ridiculously expensive car without a care in the world, wind blowing in your hair as the salty air filled the space. His hand was resting on your thigh, drawing circles and bringing you some warmth to contrast the blasting AC of the vehicle.
After a short drive, you arrived to your destination, a secluded parking lot where you used to run off as teenagers when everything felt overwhelming and you could only tolerate each otherâs presence. It was a lookout on top of a hill that cornered the city, so both the skyscrapers from the financial district and the lighthouse could be seen from the car.
Music playing softly in the background, you focused on the other and the conversation, stopping midway to press breathless kisses to every spot possible. âThe sunâs settingâ you whispered against his lips when he gave you a second to breathe. Humming in agreement, he went back right where he was before, only pulling back when he felt your hand slowly grazing his arms.
Eyes glazed over, you backed away for a moment, breathing in each otherâs exhales, leaving a comfortable silence filled with the lyrics to your joint playlist. âKinda want a martiniâ you thought out loud, and Tim started laughing so hard that he had to rest his head on top of the steering wheel. âI just had my tongue down your throat, and you want a martiniâ a second passed as he caught his breath âno, wait, youâre right. Fuck, now Iâm craving some fancy and sweet cocktailâ.
Giggling out of how silly the situation was, he started driving back to the city as he pressed kisses to your hands in between the red lights, knowing full well that the summer was just for the two of you.
taglist: @sheissopink + it is open for anyone else who's like to join, just comment on the masterlist for the series!
summary: tim drake is a good boyfriend. not because he's handsome or smart or kind or a gentlemanâthough he is all of those things. above everything, he gives you the love you always wished you had as a child
warnings: reader has intrusive thoughts
UNEDITED!
Tim Drake is a good boyfriend. Most of all, heâs healed parts of you you never knew needed to be stitched together.Â
When you first met him, his childlike sweetness seemed a bit strange. With youâand only with youâhe used soft, babylike voices. With you, he strokes your head and would absolutely read you a bedtime story if you said you needed one.Â
He never raises his voice, he never swears at you.Â
And the safety you feel around him is almost familial. Like heâs always been a part of you. Like your souls have always been intertwined. The kind of closeness you feel with him is golden, thereâs a different kind of safety that comes with being with him.Â
You feel like a kid.Â
Really, you feel like a child.Â
You tell him every single thought you haveâthe terrible intrusive ones and the dreams in which rainbows come to life.Â
You feel alive.Â
Life somehow feels warmer with him around.Â
And you didnât realize how much of a safety net heâd become for you until you came to him crying about intrusive thoughts. Bad things, unwanted dirty things, evil thoughts worming their way through the glittering shelter Tim made around your mind.Â
And heâs there.Â
And he knows you donât need him to patch you up all the time. Most of all, you know you donât need it. If you were by yourself, youâd simply crush your eyes shut and tell your mind to shut up. But when running away from your own mind becomes too difficult, he will carry you the rest of the way.Â
So here you are, your head against his chest while his hand trails from your forehead as he shushes you.Â
He wiggles his fingers, kissing your head gently as he talks you through each and every bad thought.Â
âSee? Weâre taking all the bad thoughts away.â He pretends to gently pry strings of thought from your mind, then flicks them away. âAnd Iâm gonna put nice thoughts back inside your head, okay?âÂ
He kisses your forehead. âWeâre putting in some sweet dreams.â Another peck. âSome smart thoughtsâthough you have lots of those already, donât you?âÂ
âI want them anyway,â you giggle, clinging to his shirt.Â
âAnd weâre gonna seal off your mind so the bad thoughts canât bother you again.â He taps on your head, dragging his fingers along your skin and making silly sound-effects with his mouth. Like heâs zipping you back up or stitching you together after surgery.Â
Pretending to remove your bad thoughts isnât a solution to coping with them, but goodness, it feels nice to be comforted. And sometimes, you donât need a solution. All you want is someone to justâŠbe there.Â
He never says your thoughts are irrational.Â
He never makes fun of the things that go on inside your head, no matter how wild or crazy or intrusive.Â
âI love you,â you whisper, nuzzling your way into your chest.Â
âI love you, too.âÂ
Heâs not Superman, and you donât need him to be. You just need him to be sweet Tim, rubbing the bridge of your nose as he lulls you to sleep, securing your bad thoughts away forever.
Hiii, so fun to see your requests open! I looked through your masterlist to see if youâd already done these and I didnât see any so I donât think so, but I was wondering if you could do bubble/soap dividers? Maybe lighter colors, baby blue or lavender? Thank you if so! Love your workđ«§
hello! thanks for checking and for the kind words, I can do that for sure! 𫧠đ I hope you like these!
⊠divider request: bubbles
[Free] Masterlist Headers & Dividers!
Please consider liking or reblogging if you use đ
Jason Todd, who voice records himself reading his favorite book and sends it to you before he goes away for a long mission. Itâs your own personal audiobook, and when he told you that he made it for you, you genuinely teared up. The recording was upwards of ten hours of Jason sitting there and reading aloud for the microphone. He even did different voices for each of the characters because you always giggled whenever he did it when you two were together. And although he would playfully roll his eyes and say that there was no need for him to be doing it, he did it anyway. For you. Because even though he had to be away for a while, he wanted you to still have a peice of him. To be able to listen to his voice whenever you wanted- to laugh at his poor attempt at imitating different characters whenever you missed him. Jason honestly didnât realize just how much the gesture would mean to you, but when you had thrown your arms around his neck and buried your face into the crook of his shoulder, sniffing slightly as you were suddenly overcome by a swell of emotions, he decided that he was going to make an audiobook for you every time he had to go away from now on.
"sweetheart, are you sure you don't want to wear a different coat?" bruce asked. he had been trailing behind you as you tore both closets apart in pursuit of warmth.
you had decided on his navy coat. the one with italian-imported cashmere, hand stitched hemming, and too many visits to the tailor for alterations. you'd sworn up and down it was "so extra" when he first commissioned it.
"no, i do not, honey." you replied, a tad bitterly.
stubbornness. that was great.
bruce tried to keep the edge out of his voice, "what about that jacket you bought inâ"
"none of mine fit me." you snapped, slipping the coat on. "maybe you should have put more thought into that before getting me pregnant, bruce."
"that's..." bruce let out a long sigh as he rubbed his temple. he gave a moment's consideration to his words before he spoke again, "y/n. i love when you wear my clothes, you know this. it's just..maybe we should look for a different coat? that color doesn't really go with your outfit anyways. fault of the coat of course."
"i don't care if the coat matches my outfit or not! i'm about to have a baby in like three weeks. so long as something fits and is warm, fashion is the least of my worries."
bruce's jaw worked for a moment before he let out a small disbelieving laugh, "baby, you cared yesterday.."
"yes, well, that was yesterday." you muttered as you shoved your hands into each respective pocket of the coat.
bruce visibly winced, which you raised your eyebrows at.
"if you're hiding your burner phone in here, you should have found a betterâ" the words died on your tongue as your fingers closed around something small in one of the pockets. you glanced at bruce.
he stared back with a small grimace on his face, his lips pursed into a thin line.
you pulled the little object out before staring at it.
a square...box.
oh.
oh.
a ring box. in your favorite color.
you let out a gasp as you hurriedly looked back at bruce. he stared at the box for a moment more, an "oh well" expression blossoming across his features.
bruce met your eyes finally. "i was going to get a different boxâ"
you made haste shoving the box back into the jacket pocket before he could completely begin his tangent. "maybe we should look for another coat," you said, slipping it off and handing it off to him.
bruce smiled as he took the coat back from you, holding back a laugh, "you think?"
"yeah. this one doesn't go with my outfit."
note: bruce wayne who can't keep his soon-to-be-wife out of the loop for long, so he immediately starts spilling every thought he's had and every step he's taken during the proposing process to her the moment she finds out đ„č
â content â !ââৠYou might have a little huge crush on him , he just doesn't really know it yet âžâž just fluff ! âĄ
đŽou've spent exactly three weeks and two days pretending you don't know exactly just who Percy Jackson is. Rather difficult , considering half the camp won't stop talking about him.
"He did this" and "He did that" You don't care.
You absolutely don't care.
...
Okay , maybe you asked someone what kind of guy he actually is. Maybe you asked two. Then you wondered what cabin he spends most of his time in. Whether he's really as good with a sword as everyone says. If he actually jokes that much , or if people are exaggerating. Then you asked what time he usually trains. What he usually has for breakfast. And why , exactly , he's so weird about the color blue.
Was it him that flooded the toilets again ?
Do you think he's coming to the bonfire �
He is ! Unfortunately.
You spot him before you mean to. Because he is difficult to miss in a crowd that's apparently decided to orbit him. Not because there is anything remarkable about him.
Percy Jackson got this windswept black hair that somehow always makes him look like he's either just gotten into trouble or is about to. A dusting of freckles across his nose and cheeks that suggest he spends more time in the sun than he probably should. Sea-green eyes that catch the firelight for only a second before he's looking somewhere else. A face that very much belongs on the walls of Versaille and reminds you that â yep ! He is a Demigod after all.
Then he laughs at something you comment about.
Oh. That's why everyone keeps talking about him.
Percy Jackson has a presence.
It's in the way he smiles at people like he's genuinely happy to see them. The way younger campers seem to trust him without needing a reason. The way his friends look at him â not like he's some legendary hero , but like he's just Percy.
He isn't trying to be impressive. He just is.
You notice how the scent of the sea lingers around him , and it just fits. Like obviously the son of Poseidon would smell like that. Like summer , and bad decisions. And you ask him about it then , about the sea , about his powers , and if he likes all sea creatures equally or if he has favorites.
Percy actually flushes at your question , his smile broad and carefree when he answers that he's fond of Hippocampi. Like it's obvious. You laugh , and so does he. And suddenly you can only think about how right it feels. He and You , standing here like this.
When the bonfire starts dying down and the first people start leaving , Percy offers to walk you back to your cabin. And although you fear that you might throw up by how effortlessly giddy this boy makes you feel â you say "Yeah , i'd love that ," and you think 'only if we go real slow' , because you honestly don't want this evening to end.
Your feet drag through the sand when you ask him about Olympus and if he's really been there , and Percy laughs and rubs the back of his neck , "more times than i'm really comfortable with."
He tries to describe it to you then.
"...Big ," he decides. "Really big. Everything sort of glows. The view's incredible. And every time i go , somebody's usually mad at me."
You laugh. "That last part i believe."
"Yeah?" Percy grins. "Probably for the best."
He starts telling you about one visit that somehow ended with Hermes making a mess of things and Percy getting blamed for it anyway. You aren't even sure that's the whole story , but the way he tells it has you laughing harder than you expected.
His hand brushes yours. Shit. You'd really love it if he held your hand. But maybe that's too early? Probably. Yet you're still dropping hints , that he does not seem to get. Goddamn.
"This is mine ," you finally chime , and you're almost certain that Percy's smile falters just slightly. Like this was also the most fun he's had in a while. "Thank you for walking me , oh Hero of Olympus." The quip makes him laugh. For a moment it's just silent as you stand in front of your cabin , and he does too.
Face to face you wonder for a moment if he will try to kiss you now. If he does â you might drop dead , genuinely ...
"Goodnight," he finally says , and you nod , your fingers brushing against each other again. Like you're both trying to linger. "Goodnight Percy."
No kiss. Not tonight. Somehow , that doesn't disappoint you nearly as much as it should. It just means there's a next time.
á„«áĄ.ÖŽÖ¶Öžđ i miss him , i also have no idea how to write a song fic
Hi! Would you be willing to make some lilac dividers? I tried to make some for a fic (initially to show passage of time/their short flowering time) but I was not in love with my attempts.
I love how you lavender dividers and red spider lilies dividers turned out! If you could do anything like those that would be amazing! (Lilac color doesn't matter!)
(I'm really not picky at all - Lilacs are my favorite flowers and I'm just excited to see what you come up with if you take my request! Thank you!!!)
ahh I love lilacs đ I would love to make some, I hope you like these!!
⊠divider request: lilacs
[Free] Masterlist Headers & Dividers!
Please consider liking or reblogging if you use đ
Tags and TW: Mutual pining, best friends to lovers, Tim Drake is bad at relationships, fluff, soft, comfort, civilian!reader, mndi (just a bit at the end), clingy!Tim, touches, body dysmorphia, CEO!Tim, mid-twenties!Tim, mid-twenties!Reader, sleepy!Reader, tension, kisses, ooc!Tim, no use of y/n for Reader, touchy!Tim.
Content ig: Tim and Reader have been friends for two years, at some point they started liking each other, they act like a couple and everyone knows it except them, a few touches and kisses at the end of the text. I don't know what else to put here, curse words, the bat-kids communicate with whistles.
Please read it, I swear it's not that bad. (Now that I read it calmly, it's almost 14K words of pure nonsense, I'm sorry. I'll try to edit it soon).
"Do you think they wear capes just because it looks cool?"
Your question had thrown Tim for a loop. You'd been sitting on the couch in your apartment for a while, just hanging out. Your legs were draped over your friend's lap, one of his hands casually caressing your skin as he checked some work emails.
"What do you mean?" he asked in a soft tone, stopping the caresses as he finally turned slightly to look at you.
"I've been watching some videos of Batman and Robin. Also several of Red Robin. I like how the cape looks, but wouldn't it be a bit of a nuisance in some cases?" you asked, slightly pursing your lips. You had started watching a pixelated video of Batman and Robin jumping across rooftops, their capes billowing in the air.
And then you had ended up watching each and every one of Red Robin's available videos.
That man was fucking hot.
"Well, I don't know... It might get in the way during some fights, but if they're still alive, it must be useful for something." He muttered, shrugging his shoulders. His eyes lingered for a few seconds on your lips, soon pressing his own together before returning to caressing your legs, adjusting them more comfortably on his lap.
"Edna Moda says no capes," you shook your head, moving your finger in the same way. "What if they get caught on an industrial fan or something? It's a possibility."
Tim just sighed, setting his phone aside so he could place both hands on you. "I don't think that'll happen. Their capes look kind of heavy, probably made of some special material. Their suits rarely tear too."
"Hmm... I don't know. I'm just as worried about it." you sighed, letting out a heavier sigh. Batman had been wearing a cape for years; Tim was probably right, it must be helpful. "I guess his capes are useful and look cool."
âDo you really think they look nice?" he chuckled softly as his attention returned to you.
"Obviously! They look incredible. They're always up there on the roof, looking so serious, and their capes move in the wind. If I were a criminal, I wouldn't even dare to peek out the window." You raised both your hands as if in a sign of surrender, shaking your head.
"Although⊠I wouldn't mind seeing Red Robin up close..." you murmured a little later, your gaze fixed on the tree-shaped stain on your coffee table.
Your statement almost made Tim choke on his own, instantly averting his gaze. "Why would you want that? All the media outlets say he's weird."
"Timothy Jackson Drake." His name came out of your mouth with such seriousness that you could see his body tense completely. He only glanced at you out of the corner of his eye; you never called him by his full name. "You don't seem like you're my best friend. Do you even know me?"
"Of course I do, why wouldn't I know you? I just don't understand why you'd want to be near him," he tried to explain quickly.
"Because he always looks so awkward! Haven't you seen the few videos of him talking to some citizens? He's always so stiff and you can see him trying to soften the interaction but he just can't. He's so weird, I love him."
As you explained your reasons, you let out little giggles. You really did find that boy very handsome, even with the domino mask on. It didn't matter anyway; you knew you'd never meet him in person.
"And I really like how the colors of his suit look on him! And haven't you seen that picture where his cape is completely closed? He could practically disappear into the dark!â As you continued talking and talking about him, a small smile appeared on your friend's lips; he hadn't imagined you were such a fan of his "other self."
"It would be terrifying to run into him at night after you'd committed some crime. Can you imagine? Just seeing his white eyes from a ray of light that hit them." You feigned a shiver before continuing to ramble. Not many people really believed that Red Robin could be truly scary, but in your opinion all the vigilantes managed to terrify criminals at least a little. "Although, since I'm not a criminal, I must admit he looks incredible when he's around."
"I didn't think you liked Red Robin that much. People don't usually take him into account for some things; I've seen them prefer to go directly to Batman." He shrugged, his hands gently massaging your legs; you had realized quite a while ago that he was someone who liked a lot of physical contact.
"I guess it's because of how long they've been seeing him⊠He seems intelligent and efficient." You muttered, tilting your head. They should give him more recognition. "I think he does his job very well... And he looks good doing it, by the way."
Drake just rolled his eyes, chuckling softly before turning his attention back to his phone to try and hide his flushed cheeks. If he'd known you liked Red Robin so much, he would have tried to interact with you at least once.
Although he had to admit that it made him feel somewhat shy that you thought he looked cute with all that equipment on him.
Perhaps there was a possibility that you might also find him cute without all that? He hoped so.
Tim met you almost two years ago, more specifically at a flower shop he frequented to buy bouquets for Bernardâit was his attempt to get forgiveness after missing his date because of work at the company or as a vigilanteâ
With so many visits, you ended up becoming friends. Many times he would write to you in advance, asking you to put together a bouquet that would express "regret, longing, and shame." More than three times per week.
Meanwhile, you started joking around. He would tell you the dates he had a date with his boyfriend, and you would text him that afternoon to find out if everything went well or if you should arrange another bouquet. On several occasions he would just appear in the store, looking like a puppy in the rain, putting the bouquet together with you while you explained the meaning of each flower.
There was a day when you asked about his date and he told you there was nothing more to be done. The guy had broken up with him that same day and you certainly couldn't blame him, he stayed in that relationship with Drake for too long.
Somehow you two ended up in a pretty decent bar, drinking some beers while you listened to him moan a little. He was also very aware of all the mistakes he had made during that time; rather, he was surprised that the blond guy hadn't broken up with him sooner.
As time went on, you grew closer. He would occasionally drop off a smoothie at your work, you went out together, and on several occasions you came to visit his office, always carrying a pair of flowers with you to leave in a small vase that you had given him.
Suddenly, you also started hanging out at each other's apartments, cooking together, and even having sleepovers in the living room. You were just two friends in their mid-twenties; Tim didn't always have free time, but when he managed to free up a little, he tried to come see you.
He didn't even know when it happened, he only knew that your smile began to brighten his days, the sound of your voice silenced all the thoughts in his head, and your touch relaxed his body.
Even so, he remained silent, he liked the way your relationship was at the moment and it was no secret to anyone that he was terrible at dating, he didn't want to ruin your friendship. Then yes, he started being much more attentive to you and sometimes used very cute nicknames, but nothing more. It was something you already considered quite normal and you loved being around him.
That afternoon you let out a deep sigh as you left your boss's office. You were supposed to watch movies with Tim that night, but apparently some people had a craving to order 250 flower arrangements for the next morning. You weren't going to leave early, not even if you wanted to.
At the same time as you reached for your cell phone in your back pocket to send him a text, you received a call from him, answering almost instantly.
"Hey, Dollie. Are you off work yet?" he asked in a soft tone, almost too soft. You knew him perfectly well.
"No, and I won't be able to leave until much later. Someone ordered too many flowers for tomorrow morning, and well, you know how it is." You muttered, heading to the back room. At least three other workers would stay with you to assemble them. "But they'll pay us well, that's something."
"Oh... Okay, that's good because I was just about to tell you I wasn't going to be able to make it to the movies, but it's bad because what the fuck, you were supposed to have closed an hour ago, what's your boss doing taking orders?" The guy immediately complained, glancing at his watch. You'd be leaving way too late for it to be safe. "How are you guys supposed to get home? Did he at least call you a taxi?"
âUh⊠No, but it's okay, I'll call one when I get done.â You shook your head. It wasn't the best idea, but there was no other option.
"You're not going to go alone in a taxi that late, have you lost your mind? I'll come get you, just let me know when you leave." His voice became much more stern; he knew you liked doing things on your own, but she couldn't allow something like that.
"Tim, really, don't worry about it. I'll probably go with one of my coworkers. If you can't make it to movie night, it's probably because you'll be working late." You didn't want to bother him, much less interrupt his work. "Besides, my apartment isn't that far away; I'll be there quickly."
"Then I'll send you the money and you'll share your location. What are you going to do if the driver goes off course? You didn't want me to teach you self-defense." If he couldn't take you himself, then Red Robin would have to keep an eye on you.
You sighed heavily. Ever since you'd become friends, he'd never let you pay for much; the only times you managed to do so were when he wasn't paying attention. "It's not necessary, really, everything will be fine. I'll let you know when I leave and when I get home."
The other end of the line was silent for a few seconds, only speaking again when you were about to say something. "Let me know when you're about to leave."
"Okay. You'll see, I'll be there in a few minutes, it's not a big deal." Despite how simply you said it, you were aware it wasn't so easy. Anything could happen in a couple of blocks.
"Boyfriend?" one of your coworkers asked with a laugh once you hung up the phone. You shook your head a little.
âJust a friend.â The girl hummed without believing you too much, just bringing together the things they would need to put the arrangements together.
Just as you were about to put your phone down, the screen lit upâa notification from your bank. He'd sent you more than enough to pay for taxis for two months straight. "This dumbass..."
You'd have to get his information somehow to pay him back; you weren't planning on spending itâyou weren't planning on taking a taxi. You were going to run all the way back to your apartment.
When you finally stepped out of the store, it was nearly two in the morning. You had only sent a short message to your friend letting him know you were on your way home.
You adjusted the hood of your sweater, saying goodbye to your companions before starting to walk.
Gotham nights were always cold and had an eerie silence. It was always just a matter of time before the sirens of a police car or ambulance wailed, or perhaps you'd hear screams, a car crash, or gunshots. If you were lucky enough, you wouldn't run into any villains up to no good so late.
As you walked, you began to feel watched. The only sounds around you were your footsteps and the small drops falling from the rooftops. You wanted to get home before it started raining again but the dark clouds looming over the city didn't seem to agree with your idea. However, the feeling wouldn't let you feel completely at ease; You were more afraid of the possibility of being watched by something dangerous than of arriving home soaked.
When you were just a couple of blocks from your building, small drops began to fall on your body, and you muttered to yourself that you'd forgotten your umbrella at home. Tim was going to give you a lecture for hours if you ended up with a cold.
The drops had begun to get thicker and the heavy rain had begun to cloud your path, until suddenly none of it was falling on you anymore.
As soon as you looked up, the first thing you noticed was a pair of white eyes beside you. Out of pure instinct, you tried to move away, but a hand briefly touched your waist. "Don't be scared, it's okay.â
You had to blink a couple more times before you realized that the boy in front of you wasn't just any masked man, he was your favorite vigilante. One of your hands flew to your mouth, covering it instantly as you raised your eyebrows and your eyes widened in surprise. "What theâwhat are you doing here?"
"That's what I should be asking you. It's the middle of the night and it's raining terribly. What are you doing?" His voice seemed familiar, but at the same time it seemed deeper; you couldn't quite place where you had heard it before.
"I... I got off work late and didn't want to call a taxi," you explained, sounding a little embarrassed. You hadn't expected to run into any of the Bats that night, but you weren't complaining either; at least you could feel safer.
"And you preferred to walk alone? At night? In Gotham?" You couldn't see it very well, but you thought he had raised his eyebrows a little.
"Well, if you put it that way, it does sound really bad... But I don't live that far away, nothing's happened to me so far, just some rain." You complained, puffing out your lips, walking slowly while he followed you, you hadn't even noticed that he was covering you from the rain with his cape.
"Just because nothing has happened to you yet doesn't mean it couldn't have happened. Someone was being robbed just two blocks from here." You were only able to look away; you didn't want to agree with him. "Was there really no one to pick you up?"
âMy friend offered to pick me up, but I didn't want to bother him... Now I have to figure out how to pay him back for the taxi, that idiot never lets me pay for anything." You almost spat, rolling your eyes. Tim was too sweet to youâwhen he wasn't bothering youâand you didn't know how to repay him.
"And that's bad âcause...? I think it shows he's well-mannered." He muttered, shrugging his shoulders as he kept his arm over you, shielding you from the raindrops. His hair was already soaked, but that was the least of his concerns.
"Oh, no. It's not a bad thing at all, actually I think it's very sweet, but I'm embarrassed that he always ends up paying for everything. It's not fair." You shook your head calmly, quickening your pace to try and get there sooner. You didn't want him to get any wetter.
"Hmm. You should just let him spoil you, of course, as long as it doesn't make you uncomfortable." You only made a small sound while nodding a little. Tim was always very attentive to you, always ending up with a grimace whenever you didn't let him buy you something you liked.
And for nothing, because in the end you always ended up finding what you wanted in your room after one of his visits.
"I live here. Thank you so much for walking me home and for..." You pointed to his cape, which was still covering you. "...for the makeshift umbrella. You should go get a hot shower."
"You're the one who should be taking a hot shower and having some tea. From what little you said, I doubt that friend of yours would be happy if you ended up with a cold." A small smile appeared on the vigilante's lips as he nodded towards the door of your building.
"Yeah, he's going to freak out if he finds out I walked here," you murmured, pressing your lips together. It would be best if he didn't find out. "Goodnight, Red. Thanks again!" you finally said goodbye with a smile before entering the building, closing the door behind you.
It was only when you went upstairs and were inside your apartment that you realized what had just happened.
Several excited squeals escaped your lips as you closed your eyes and a wide smile curved your face. The Red Robin had walked you home!
"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god," you repeated several times while you jumped slightly in place. You had won in life.
Your excitement was only interrupted when the apartment filled with the sound of your cell phone; it was the specific ringtone you had for Tim. "Damn," you muttered before quickly pulling your phone out of your bag.
"Timmy! I thought you'd be asleep or something..." you said as soon as you answered the call, finally taking off your wet shoes and heading to your room.
"I was waiting for you to tell me you had arrived, you didn't share your location and you didn't say anything about the taxi either." In the background of his voice you could hear the rain falling, he must have been near a window because of how loud it was.
"Oh, it's just that... I forgot that part, but I'm home now, don't worry." You chuckled softly, knowing that despite your best efforts, you wouldn't be able to hide the fact that you hadn't called a taxi for long. "Are you finished with your work? I'm going to take a shower and go to sleep."
âI'm almost finished. I just need to check a couple more things and then I'll go home." You were talking to him while you were looking for the pajamas you would wear.
âAre you still at the company? I really don't understand how you can stay there so late so many days a week." You sighed wearily at the thought. "Luckily, they gave me the day off. I'm going to sleep in."
"You know how it is, sometimes unexpected things happen." You hummed as you headed to your bedroom window. You were going to open the curtains a little to let in some light, but you weren't crazy enough to open the window.
"I'll let you finish working, Tim. See you later, okay? And send me your details so I can return the money I didn't spend." On the other end, you heard the click of his tongue and rolled your eyes.
"Leave it like that. Better use it to buy something nice on Saturday, I'll come out to eat with you that night." With some hesitation, you agreed. Finishing picking up the curtains. "See you later, make sure you get a good night's sleep, sweetheart."
"Yes, yes. You too, dummy. Rest and don't drink so many energy drinks, you need to sleep at least a little while or you'll short-circuit." You said goodbye with a chuckle, hanging up and leaving your cell phone on the nightstand. When you looked out your window, you could see the vigilante on the roof of the building across the street.
His cape covered his entire body; you could only see his mask by the light of some lamps. Contrary to what you had said a few days ago, he came across as more beautiful than terrifying.
With a small smile, you waved your hand towards him, doubting that he had seen you, but you noticed how he nodded in recognition of you. A few seconds later you heard what sounded like a bird singing, but you were pretty sure you hadn't heard it before. The guy immediately turned his head to another spot and you instantly saw him disappear among the rooftops.
"Well... Vigilante stuff." you muttered as you headed to the shower for a well-deserved hot bath.
The night hadn't ended as badly as you had expected.
Timothy had spent the day in his office at the company. He had been forced to review several documents that had been sent to him by his secretary, and on occasion he took breaksâbreaks he used to review some cases he was working on.
Although the day had been passing by very quickly, he had made sure to send you lunch at the time he knew you should already be awake. He knew your habits and quirks very well; he had your schedule memorized and often used it to his advantage.
It was very likely that you wouldn't leave your apartment that day, not even for the slightest reason. Maybe if he left early, he'd check on you to make sure everything was alright. He was a little annoyed that you had decided to lie to him about your return home, but he could understand your reasonsâeven so, he still didn't like the shady dealingsâit was only a matter of time before you gave yourself away.
Since he was completely sure that he would not receive much of a sign of life from you during the day, he did not worry about being on the lookout for who might come to his office.
That's why his assistant took him by surprise when she knocked on his door and announced the arrival of "his girl".
His girl must be sleeping very comfortably under the covers, wearing one of the many sweaters he had left in your apartment for you to use.
All his mind could only think about was what kind of crazy woman had sneaked into the building this time; he didn't want to have to deal with it. He was tired of several people trying to approach his workplace with other intentions; the crazy ones seemed endless in that city. How long would he have toâoh, it actually was his girl.
"Dollie, I thought you'd be asleep, what are you doing here?" he asked, tilting his head, his furrowed brow instantly relaxing as his pupils seemed to dilate as you approached his desk.
"I came to have lunch with you. It's not fair that you send me so much money for a simple taxi and then, on top of that, send me food when I'm pretty sure you skipped your breaks, Drake." Your voice was stern, your brow furrowed. You weren't truly angry with him, but it frustrated you that he was so careless. Soon you were on his side of the desk, moving aside some pens and a stapler to sit on the edge. You left the food near the opposite corner.
You seemed to have a magnet for his eyes; the poor fool just stared at you, his expression becoming almost pitiful as he noticed the tone in which you spoke to him. "I ate a sandwich when I arrived, I haven't eaten again because I haven't been hungry."
He tried to explain himself as one of his hands instinctively went to your thigh; he didn't like that you were upset with him. He was the one who should be upset!
"Besides, I'm almost certain you didn't use the money for the taxi. You took ages to let me know you arrived; I even had to call you." He remarked, resting his elbow on his desk, his work completely forgotten now that you was near.
"That's not the point, Tim." You denied it instantly. "The point is that you should at least take a break every now and then."
The man in front of you sighed, leaning back completely in his chair as he tried to loosen his tie with his free hand, the other remaining on your thigh, even unconsciously giving it a slight squeeze.
Suddenly you wondered if he had always looked so hot in his formal clothes.
Tim was attractive, and you weren't blind. You could see why so many people were after him. You could even congratulate whoever had been with him at some point, but that was all.
You couldn't imagine anything more, no matter how much you wanted to; it was becoming increasingly difficult to pretend you didn't mind every time he used cute nicknames for you. Light touches had always been common in your friendship, but there were times when they felt much more intimate.
âTell me, did you get enough rest? When you have days off, you try to sleep in." he asked softly, his eyes remaining on your face. He was dying to look down and explore your body, but that would be too intrusive. "I don't like it when they make you work so many hours out of the blue."
"I don't like it either, but there's not much I can do. We get paid extra when something like this happens anyway." You shrugged, reaching for the hand he had on you, and he intertwined your fingers with his in an instant.
Anyone who saw you acting like that could swear you were dating.
His voice softened considerably, as did his gaze, leaving gentle caresses on the back of your hand. "I've already told you I can get you a job in the labs, doll. I know you like working at the flower shop, but don't fool me, you miss being in a lab."
âTimâŠâ You sighed, looking away. It was a complicated issue for you.
You had studied biochemistry, you loved being in a lab, and your first years as a graduate were incredible. However, in an attack by the scarecrow, several labs were rendered inoperable. Getting another job in your field had become almost impossible, and you only managed to find one at that lovely flower shop.
"I'm serious. You'd have a more convenient schedule and better pay. It won't be a problem," he insisted once more, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. He groaned when you shook your head again.
"I know that, but I don't feel competent enough to work in such a prestigious laboratory. You know I haven't even got my master's degree yet." You sighed, looking down at your clasped hands. If you looked directly into those beautiful blue eyes, it would have been hard to say no.
âBut that's no problem, sweetheart. I'm sure you'd do fine.
"No, honey. I don't want to get a job just through connections and if my resume isn't up to par... Let me study a little more and maybe I'll consider it."
The dark-haired man could only manage a heavy sigh, moving closer to you and letting his head fall into your lap. Your free hand instantly fell into his hair, murmuring a thank you.
"At least tell me why you lied to me last night. I know you, I know you didn't come back in a taxi." He whispered after a while of silence, only receiving your caresses in his hair.
You pressed your lips together, focusing on tangling one of his strands around your finger. There was little point in hiding things from him when he always found out the truth somehow.
"I didn't want to bother you so late, much less worry you," you whispered, shrugging your shoulders.
"It doesn't bother me, if I tell you I can come get you it's because I really can. I don't like you being alone on the street so late." He hid his face even more against your legs, shaking his head a little. "What would I do if something happened to you and nobody knew anything about it?â He whispered your name, almost in pain.
âBut nothing happened and I'm fine. Don't be sad, Timmy." You gently tugged on his hair, chuckling softly in an attempt to cheer him up a little. "Besides, I wasn't completely alone, guess who I ran into."
"Batman?" he asked, uncovering his face a little to see you, even though he already knew the answer.
"Much better, Red Robin." You smiled, gently running your thumb along his cheek. Every time he acted like this, you felt your heart clench.
But you were just friends and that was more than perfect.
âSeriously? And how did it turn out?" he asked as he finished wrapping his arm around your waist, his other hand holding yours firmly.
"He's so sweet! And so attractive too." You laughed as you swung your legs in the air. "He's a total gentleman."
"Oh, really?" He laughed, looking at you without moving from his spot, his cheeks just getting a little color.
"Yes. He was covering me from the rain with his cape, you should have seen him, Tim. He was soaked to the bone and he was still covering me." Your smile was getting bigger and bigger. At other times Timothy would be more than jealous, but since it was his second persona, it wasn't so bad.
"Well, I could have driven you in the car, with the heating on and without you getting a single drop of rain, but the girl doesn't like it when I do that," he complained falsely while giving your waist a gentle squeeze.
"Oh, don't be like that, Tim." You pouted as you ruffled his hair. "I really didn't mean to upset you... And I came out on top! I even saw him on the roof with his whole cape covering him." You moved your legs more excitedly, smiling again.
"Yeah? And he looked terrifying?" He asked, rolling his eyes as he closed them, almost opening them abruptly when you spoke again.
"He actually looked really cute, like a wet chick," you laughed, shaking your head slightly. "It's great not to be a criminal, cute vigilantes help you and make sure you get home safely," you hummed, gazing dreamily at the window of his office.
"I don't think he'd appreciate knowing he looks like a wet chicken." He muttered in a dejected grunt. His idea was to impress you, not to touch your heart.
"It doesn't matter, he'll never know anyway." You shrugged. "Can one have a crush on a vigilante? Because I think I already have one on him. He's just too cute, Timmy!"
Despite everything, a small smile played on the man's lips; he liked hearing you speak so animatedly... even if it was about 'another man.' "I don't know, I suppose so," he complained again as he lifted his head from your lap, finally looking you in the eyes.
"But it infuriates me that you call him a gentleman and then come and scold me. I'm the one who takes care of you every day, sweetheart. Not him," he insisted, frowning slightly.
"Oh, Tim." You pursed your lips again, raising your hand to his cheek to leave a soft caress. "You're right, you're a gentleman too... with a real knack for spending your money on unnecessary things."
"They're not unnecessary; often they're things you like or things I send for your safety. I could even send you one of the company's drivers, but you get all worked up every time I mention it." He shook his head, finally loosening his tie and unbuttoning the first three buttons of his shirt.
Your eyes couldn't help but drift down to his chest, swallowing hard before you answered. "It's just... I feel like I'm taking advantage of you, and I don't like that." You tried to explain, returning your gaze to his face, a heavy sigh escaping your lips as you rolled your eyes at the crooked smile on his lips. "Don't say a word."
"About what? That you were looking at me?" he asked, his smile unchanged. "I know you like me, beautiful. You don't have to play dumb," he said, his tone clearly joking but full of self-importance. "Don't worry, there's plenty of Tim Drake here for you."
You quickly let go of his hand as you climbed down from his desk, about to turn around when his hands caught your hips, pulling you down onto his lap.
A loud laugh escaped his lips as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer to his body while placing a noisy kiss on your shoulder.
"Don't be mad at me, I just like teasing you." He murmured, leaving more noisy kisses. Giggles continued to escape his lips. "Come on, give me a smile, doll."
"I'm not going to give you anything, you're annoying," you complained, crossing your arms. Your cheeks were flushed red.
You couldn't concentrate on complaining when you could perfectly feel his strong arms around you and notice how well-defined his chest was. From afar, one wouldn't believe Tim was strong, but you had already confirmed it several times.
and his bicepsâyou wanted to bite them
"Ah, but I'm sure you'd smile at Red Robin," he insisted, poking you on the ribs, making you squirm a little.
"That's another matter, it's Red Robin. He was getting wet just to get me home safely." You turned slightly away from him, wanting to be further from his face.
"How silly of him, he probably has some kind of raincoat and forgot it." he muttered, rolling his eyes; it was exactly what had happened to him because he'd been in such a hurry. "Meanwhile, here you have a nationally recognized CEO, with tons of money, who worries about you every second. But no, you don't smile at him."
"And I'm not going to smile at you while you keep bothering me," you almost whispered, keeping your gaze fixed on his office door.
"Sweetie, come on. Don't be like that." He almost whined as he placed another kiss on your back. "If we eat together, will you not be upset anymore? We can even take a nap on the couch, don't you want to?"
When you hesitated to answer, a wide smile curved the boy's lips, and he gently patted your hips. He knew that had won you over. "Let's go eat. When we're done, I'll close the curtains and we'll take a nap."
He finally let you get up from his lap. You took the small bag with the takeaway food and headed to a small table near the couch. He rarely offered to rest, so you had to take advantage of it.
"Don't you have any meetings coming up? Then someone walks into your office out of nowhere, they see us and the Gotham Gazette ends up saying we've been together for five years, have three kids and two dogs.â
You sat on the floor as you began to unwrap everything, Tim shaking his head as he headed for the door, completely ignoring the fact that he was a mess, his hair disheveled and his shirt open. "I'll tell them not to bother us."
By the time you finished putting everything away, he had already returned to your side, sitting next to you. Being close was almost an unconscious thing he did; he always sought to feel at least a little of your body heat.
Tim knew he wasn't a good match, but he was trying harder than ever for youâand you didn't even have anything going onâ. He also knew the image you projected to outsiders; his brothers often asked if you were his girlfriend, looking at him incredulously every time he denied it.
Likewise, he didn't complain about it. There were several photos of you two on his Instagram profile; some people claimed you both looked in love, but you just ignored it.
As you began to eat, you would occasionally offer him pieces of stir-fried meat to try. He did the same with the sweet and sour chicken, bringing it to your mouth for you to take.
You were both too infatuated with each other, but you had been friends for so long that you thought it was your dynamic and nothing more.
"Do you have a lot of work to do?" you asked in a gentle tone as you finally began to clean up. He shook his head slightly.
"I just need to review some documents and that's all. I was thinking of coming to see you tonight," he said, getting up to throw the rest in the trash.
"If you want, I can stay here with you and we can go together." You slowly got up, stretching in your seat before taking a seat on the sofa.
Tim made a sound of affirmation, wiping his hands with a napkin and throwing it in the trash before closing the automatic office blinds and turning to you again. Without paying much attention, he rolled up his shirt sleeves to his elbows, taking off his shoes as he went.
You had seen that same scene so many times that you should have been used to it, but each time you were surprised by how fast your heart was beating. When he was completely in front of you, you raised your head to see his face, returning the smile he was giving you.
"You look cute when you're not mad at me," he said, crouching down in front of you and taking off your shoes as if it were already part of his routine.
"It's not my fault you're always trying to annoy me," you murmured, letting him do it, patting the seat next to you when he finished.
"You also look cute when you pout and look at me like you hate me." He giggled as he settled down beside you, took your waist before lying back on the sofa, bringing you with him along the way.
You settled more comfortably, resting your head on his chest, one hand on his chest, while one of your legs found its place over his. "You're a pain in the ass."
"You love it when I tease you, don't play dumb," he whispered, giving a gentle pinch to your waist, chuckling softly as you pressed closer to him in surprise.
"I hate you." you murmured finally, closing your eyes, more than ready to sleep.
"I love you too, beautiful," he murmured with a smile on his lips, letting out a sigh as he gently caressed your waist.
His caresses, the citrusy and woody scent of his perfume, the dark office, and the rhythmic beating of his heart were the perfect mix to put you to sleepâand Tim knew it very well.
His eyes were fixed on you as his free arm rested over his head. He'd noticed that when he wore that perfume you slept better beside him, not to mention that the first time he held you to sleep you fell asleep within seconds.
He knew that at night you didn't like to sleep uncovered, but in the afternoons you preferred to sleep only in a pair of comfortable socks. He knew that when you entered a deeper sleep you tended to make very low noises, almost as if you were trying to talk.
And he knew very well that when you woke up you needed at least a few minutes to realize that you were no longer asleep. He loved seeing your disoriented little face while you woke up.
Contrary to what many believed, Tim could fall asleep almost anywhere. That's why he constantly kept a caffeinated drink on hand. He tried to meet all his responsibilities on time, and that meant sacrificing his sleep.
At that moment he should have been reviewing documents, but if he moved too much while hugging you, you would wake up.
So his duty at that moment was to rest with you, finally allowing himself to close his eyes for a while.
You woke up after a long while because of other voices in the office and Tim's absence. You frowned slightly as you ran a hand over your face. Your eyes remained fixed on Tim's back; he was still sitting on the sofa but was no longer by your side.
You shifted slightly, muttering under your breath before fixing your gaze on the person in front of him. "Mmm... Hi, Mr. Wayne."
"Hi, darling. Is Tim treating you well?" His voice was low and deep, and he smiled very slightly at you. He liked seeing that you were getting closer and closer. He knew very well how much his son cared about you and was really just waiting for confirmation that you were dating.
âMhn? Monday to Fridayâ You answered without really understanding what he was asking. Tim just shook his head a little.
"Oh, so not on weekends?" You frowned at Mr. Wayne's question, looking at Tim for a few seconds.
"Yeah."
"Don't pay any attention to her, she doesn't even realize she's awake." The boy shook his head, pushing you back towards the cushion when you tried to sit up. He wasn't very happy to have woken you up like this, but Bruce needed to talk about some things very urgently.
"Sleep a little longer, we'll go home in a bit." He whispered softly as he placed his hand completely over your face. He didn't want to be so affectionate in front of Bruce. Soon he heard your moan, quickly pulling his hand away when he felt you bite him.
"I've slept a lot. Keep talking, I'll wait outside." you murmured before trying to sit up again, just resting your head on his back, your eyes still trying to close on their own.
"No, no, don't worry. We've finished talking about what we needed to." Bruce shook his head gently as he stood up, straightening his jacket. "You should go home right away. Tim has something important to tell you."
"Okay," you murmured without moving an inch. You could fall asleep right there if you wanted. It wouldn't be the first time Tim had carried you somewhere.
Once the boy said goodbye to the older man and he left, Tim turned slightly to look at you. "Doll, let's go home. I'll order something to eat and you can rest without worrying about it."
You groaned, drawing out his name as you slumped back down on the couch, your hair spread across the cushion as you kept your eyes closed. Drake smiled slightly, his eyes wandering over your face and lingering down to your exposed collarbones.
He would like to see you like that in other circumstances, but it wasn't very polite of him to think about those kinds of things.
With a sigh, he bent down to pick up your shoes and began to put them back on you, getting up from the armchair as he stretched and went to gather his things.
"You know I like carrying you, sweetheart. But right now we're a mess and if we go out like this, rumors will start, I know you don't like the idea." He tried to explain while straightening his shirt and taking off his tie completely, putting it in one of his pockets.
He put his shoes back on and went to his desk to put away the briefcase he was going to take. letting out a low laugh upon hearing your whimpers.
"Oh, let them talk already. It's not like it's the first time they've seen us together." You finally complained, standing up and heading to an office mirror to fix your hair. Your steps were a little shaky from sleep.
"I know, but it's one thing for them to see us looking presentable and another for them to see us looking disheveled." His tone remained soft, running a hand through his hair, picking up his jacket to bring it towards you. "When you wake up you'll thank me, I'm sure that if there was an article saying that someone was sleeping with Timothy Drake-Wayne in his office and a picture of you underneath, you'd cut my head off."
"You have a point," you murmured, taking his jacket to put it on and leaving a fleeting kiss on his cheek. You grabbed your phone from the small table and waited for him to turn off the lights so you could leave together.
Once he had turned everything off, he placed his hand on your lower back, and you both left the office, only giving his assistant a brief goodbye as you headed for the elevator.
While they waited for the basement doors to open, you looked up at him, finally realizing. "You know? This doesn't help with the accusations that we're dating."
"Hmm? Why not?" he asked with genuine curiosity, lowering his gaze to your face.
"Well... we spent hours in your office, we left looking a bit disheveled, I'm wearing your jacket and you won't let go of me," you murmured, pointing at the elevator mirror. The image it projected was of a couple who had been together for a while.
"Mhn...well, but Bruce was there for a while and everything was fine." He shrugged, pulling you closer and tightening his grip on your waist. "If anyone says anything, I'll take care of it."
At that point, everyone knew you were a couple, except for yourselves.
"Your apartment or mine?" he asked when you were both in his car. The passenger seat was adjusted just the way you liked it. Tim immediately turned on the heater for you and, almost instinctively, fastened your seatbelt.
"Yours. I like your bed." You replied absentmindedly, taking out your cell phone to check some messages you had.
[...]
"The food's here!" you heard Tim's voice coming from the living room, you were still in the bathroom finishing getting dressed.
You had plenty of your own clothes at his house, but wearing his pajamas ended up being more comfortable. It was funny because he would sometimes even subtly pass you his clothes so you would consider it as an option.
When you finished. You detangle your hair and dry it more carefully before going out to the living room.
"It smells good," you murmured, approaching to see what she had ordered, smiling at the sight of the pizza. He always managed to order it with the ingredients you wanted that day; it still surprised you when she did things like that. He seemed to read your mindâor perhaps he had you studied too well.
He placed the pieces he knew you would have chosen for yourself on your plate, leaving it on the counter and then serving himself. There were already two open cans of soda for both you.
"What was the important thing Bruce mentioned?" you asked as you sat down, looking at him attentively. You didn't like to eat before the person you were with did too.
"Ah, that." The boy tilted his head from side to side, turning it before moving his shoulders. He was wearing an oversized t-shirt and a pair of loose shorts. "He wants you to come with me to the gala next week."
"Has he gone crazy?" you asked bluntly, looking directly into his eyes. Tim was trying hard to avoid your gaze.
"I told him that too, but he insists it would be a good idea. He says that at least something has to keep me interested during the night."
"I'm the sacrifice, I understand." Your words made him laugh a little, finally sitting down to take a bite of one of his slices, only then did you start eating.
"He said I can't look so distracted when we talk to some contributors and that I never try to pay attention to them." He rolled his eyes; it was the same old conversation. "He wanted to talk directly to you because supposedly I pay more attention to you than to other people. So he wants you to keep an eye on me so I don't look so... bored."
"So, I'll babysit, right?" you asked with a giggle. "Tell him he has to pay me a hundred dollars an hour and I might consider it."
"Oh my god. You spend all day by my side for free."
"Yes, but that's in your natural environment, not at a gala full of pretentious people." You waved your free hand before continuing to eat. "I'll go, but I have to find a nice dress; I don't have anything for that kind of event."
"I'll go with you to buy it," he said instantly. He wasn't going to let you spend money on a dress you probably wouldn't wear very often.
"You know what? There's no point in saying no anymore." You shrugged. At the end of the day, he'd always find a way to be with you.
And if not, he still knew where you were; you still hadn't figured out how he did that.
"By the way, it's more likely that your appearance at the gala will generate a lot more rumors. Are you okay with that?" His voice was softer this time. He had no problem being linked to you, but he understood that Gotham's elite and the press could be suffocating. He respected your decision not to get too caught up in all of that.
"Yeah... In the end, we always get paired up anyway; a couple of articles and silly whispers shouldn't be a big deal." No doubt some people would call you a gold digger, but that was the least of it.
Tim loved being paired with you, and the idea that all of Gotham believed it thrilled him a little. No guy with two brain cells would try to get close to you with ulterior motives; you'd practically be his girl publicly.
Perhaps at some point you would also be his in a more private setting.
Sometimes he even thought that you liked him too, that your gentle glances at him, the kisses on his cheeks and the caresses you gave him meant something more, but he was terrified of trying anything further and that you would regret it.
When they finished eating and organized the entire kitchen, they finally did their routines before going to sleep. First you lay down. Stretching out on the big bed and burying your face in the pillows momentarily, they smelled completely of him, a small smile appearing on your lips.
Once you were more comfortable, he climbed onto the bed, wrapping his arms around you and resting his head on your stomach without hesitation. Your hand went straight to his hair, beginning to twist a strand around one of your fingers.
"Timmy..." you called in a whisper, soon big blue eyes were looking at you through his eyelashes. "We're not exactly beating the dating allegations."
"So what? It's just the two of us, and I like being near you." He whispered, smiling at your soft giggle. In moments like these, he longed to confess his feelings for you.
"When I met you, I didn't think you were so clingy. It's sweet." With a smile, you continued stroking his hair. He settled back down without letting go of your body.
If he was like this just as friends, you couldn't imagine what he'd be like as your boyfriend. The mere thought of it made you want to cover his face with kisses, but that would be too much right now.
"It really doesn't bother me that people think we're a couple," he admitted in a murmur, biting his tongue to try not to say too much.
"It doesn't bother me either. I know I often joke about it, but I don't have a problem with it," you explained without stopping the caresses. "I like being with you... I'm glad you decided to go in and buy flowers for your ex." You laughed lightly. If it weren't for that, you wouldn't have met him.
"Yes... I'm glad I did it too," he replied in the same tone, taking his blankets to cover you well. He settled more comfortably in bed, wrapping his arms around you more snugly. "Now go to sleep. We'll go get the dress tomorrow."
With a soft sound, you snuggled closer to his body, relaxing completely in his grip.
You didn't know at what point things had changed between you two either, you were only aware that you spent more time thinking about him and wanting to see him, that you liked being surrounded by his scent much more and that you loved it when he teased you despite pretending not to.
You knew very well that you were just playing dumb about your feelings, wanting to assure everyone that you were just best friends.
But best friends shouldn't want to kiss.
"Your feet are fucking cold," you laughed loudly when you heard it, having hidden your feet under his legs.
By the time the sun was about to set, you had already spent hours between boutiques. None of the dresses you had tried on really appealed to you; they might have been beautiful, but you didn't think they would make you look pretty.
If you liked the cut, you thought the color was awful. And if the color was perfect, you didn't like how it looked on you.
"Tim, I really don't think this is a good idea anymore," you sighed inside the fitting room. You had refused to let him look at you several times because of the way the dresses accentuated the wrong areas. You felt so embarrassed for wasting his time and just wanted to go home.
"Honey, try at least one more, okay? If you don't like that one, we can leave and I'll ask them to make a design just the way you'd like it. What do you think?"
You felt it was too much to ask for an event that was only a couple of hours long, but Tim's worried voice made you give in. "Just one more."
And that was enough to make him feel a breath of fresh air. Perhaps, just perhaps, he had been going through your private Pinterest boardsâit's not important how he got themâand had searched the entire store until he found a dress that matched the design of one of the ones you had saved.
"I chose this one for you. I think the color is pretty." He said, passing the dress to you from the side of the fitting room. The saleswoman just watched him with a smile; that guy was head over heels for you.
You couldn't deny that the color was one of your favorites; the crimson red made a nice contrast with your skin. âOkayâŠâ
Even so, you tried it on without much enthusiasm, thinking long and hard before turning around to look in the mirror. It was a long dress; you were going to need slightly higher heels, but you didn't have a problem with that. The fabric was soft to the touch, and the skirt of the dress fell freely from your waist, where it was fitted just enough to accentuate your figure without being too exaggerated. It had a slit along one side; depending on the movement, your legs could be seen. The top part was simple, It was a draped neckline and fell softly over your chest.
And it was perfect.
It might seem silly, but your eyes filled with small tears.
You'd spent the whole day feeling terrible about yourself, you were so frustrated and felt like your body wouldn't look good in any dress. Tim finding the perfect one felt like seeing the gates of heaven. "Tim..."
"What's wrong? Didn't you like it? We can do what I told you, don't worry about it, we just have toâ" He had started speaking very quickly, only stopping when he was interrupted by your voice. In his opinion, many of the dresses you had tried on throughout the day were simply perfect on you, but what really mattered was that you were comfortable, not that he liked it.
"It's perfect, Tim." you finally said, stepping out of the fitting room, letting him look at you.
Tim Drake, The Red Robin, who was the leader of the Teen Titans and the Young Justice, who had fought with hundreds of criminals and deranged villains.
Ended up breathless when he saw you.
"You... you, uh-" You could see his Adam's apple rise and fall as he swallowed, his breathing had become somewhat heavy. "Uh, you look-you look gorgeous⊠Really gorgeous." He whispered, the boy could feel his cheeks tingling, even his ears had turned a little red.
He took another deep breath, his eyes wandering over the dress. A mocking little smile played on your lips. You hadn't expected a reaction like that. "Now I hope you find a tie the same color. We have to match if I'm going to be with you all night."
His eyes darted to your face. Nodding enthusiastically, he said, "Of course, I actually already ordered one to match your dress. I was... I was hoping you'd like it."
"Well, I loved it." You smiled, approaching him and wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug, leaving a loud kiss on his cheek. If you had charmed him before, now you had left him speechless and completely mesmerized.
His hands found their way back to your waist, smiling a little before gently kissing your forehead. "Then we'll take this one. Tomorrow we can talk about accessories and your heels. Right now I just want us to go eat and rest; you've been too busy today."
His voice was low and soft, just loud enough for you to hear. The tone he used reminded you of someone, but you couldn't quite place who. "Go get changed, I'll go pay for it." He gave a gentle squeeze to your waist, only letting go when you did.
Tim felt completely fulfilled at having found a dress you liked. Anyone could tell he puffed out his chest with pride, holding his head high as he went to pay.
You, on the other hand, could only think about how much you loved that fool.
âDo you think Red Robin would like to see me in that dress too, or not?" you asked once you were both in the car, smiling and shaking your head. You chuckled at Tim's sigh.
He found it amusing that you spoke of his other self with such emotion, but at that moment he didn't want you to mention any other man or woman. He had chosen your dress!
He murmured your name softly as one hand remained on the steering wheel and the other rested on your thigh. You could feel your heart leap at the sight; his brow furrowed, his eyes fixed on the road. "I chose your dress, and you liked it. I couldn't care less what Red Robin has to say right now." His hand tightened gently. "If he wants to see you in something he likes, he can come with you and choose it himself."
Tim couldn't see it completely, but a big smile was forming on your lips and a pretty blush was rising on your cheeks. "Are you jealous?" you asked with a giggle.
"Yes, I am," he replied without hesitation. Many people were going to see you at the gala, and that was nagging at him, but he didn't care. You were going there with him; you were his best friend, not theirs. For God's sake, he was closer to kissing you than anyone else you knew.
But Red Robin had gotten under his skin for a moment - even though it was him -
"Don't be, I just like to joke about it." You laughed again, leaning in to place a soft kiss on his cheek. "Thanks for picking out the dress for me, Timmy. You have great taste."
"Of course I have good taste. In fact, from now on I'm going to go shopping with you." He couldn't leave any space open for someone else to do it. It had to be him.
"Okay. But I need more feedback than 'you look very pretty' with little, bright blue eyes.â You settled back into your seat, a silly smile lingering on your lips.
"I'll see what I can do..."
When the day of the gala finally arrived, you felt more nervous than you could have imagined. It was just a matter of being next to Tim and reminding him to pretend to be interested in what the guests were saying, but out of nowhere you felt your stomach churn and a bad feeling in your chest.
"I'm going to throw up," you blurted out, even though you were almost ready. All that was left was the accessories you'd wear and putting on your heels. Tim had wanted to hire someone to do your hair, but you refused several times; you didn't want to look too flashy.
His head turned toward you instantly, and he got up from your bed to come closer. He was already fully dressed, just waiting to help you with the details. "Why?"
"I don't know, I just felt like throwing up. I don't want to go anymore, Tim." You shook your head several times as you started pacing around your room in an attempt to calm down.
A pair of hands reached for your waist as you walked past him again, making you stop right there. "Look at me."
With a whimper, you raised your gaze to his eyes, your lips pouting involuntarily at how relaxed he seemed. His blue eyes looked at you tenderly, and his hair was neatly styled but with a touch of tousled looseness.
"Breathe with me," he murmured, taking one of your hands and placing it on his chest to begin taking deep breaths. You soon imitated him. "Everything's going to be alright. I'll be by your side every moment, and we're not going to stay all night."
You nodded gently as you continued to mimic her breathing. "You spent so much time doing your hair and makeup, sweetheart. You look gorgeous, we can't let all that effort go to waste, can we?"
You murmured a negative while shaking your head slightly. His hands gently guided you to the bed, helping you sit down as he bent down and took your new heels out of the box.
With great care, he helped you put them on, leaving a soft kiss on the leg that was now exposed thanks to the dress. Tim had no idea how to restrain himself, but he was dying to explore your entire body with his hands and lips. He wanted to cover you with so many kisses that you would have no doubt whatsoever about how much he loved you.
Still silent, he stood up again to find the accessories you would wear. Gently placing your earrings and necklace on you, the touch of his fingers against your skin made you shiver.
"And that's it. Quite a doll."
You smiled slightly as you nodded gently, getting up with the help of his hand. "If at any point you feel too overwhelmed, we can take a walk in the gardens. I always find a way to escape conversations, don't worry."
"Tim, I'm supposed to be here to stop you from running away from people." You shook your head gently, straightening his tie a little before you left the room together, your cell phone in his pocket as well as the lipstick you had used.
He just shrugged as he placed a kiss on your temple. You worried him more than any work conversation.
You had been to the manor a few times before when you were invited for dinner; it wasn't a new place for you, but you had certainly never seen it so crowded. Your eyes searched for familiar faces, but you couldn't spot any of Tim's brothers.
You hadn't even managed to see Bruce when two men had already intercepted Tim, starting to talk to him about who knows what regarding the company's stock.
You were just hanging on to his arm, almost like a keychain. It was insulting that they didn't even glance at who was with Tim, but you didn't feel like talking to them, so it didn't bother you too much.
On the other hand, there were a few people who were only paying attention to you. Seeing Tim Drake with someone on his arm? That hadn't happened for many months.
Soon the whispers began to spread from person to person, asking who you were and where you came from. They didn't remember ever having seen you before.
You were with him while he was talking to several people; some were more decent and even greeted you politely before returning to the business topic. Sometimes they tried to convince you so that you would then be the one to finally convince him.
You just smiled politely before denying it; you weren't planning on getting involved in those things, you didn't have a very deep understanding of business administration. Your thing was more laboratory-based.
At a certain point you could notice that he was completely frozen at the same time as what sounded like a whistle could be heard throughout the room.
"Did a little bird get in?" you asked curiously, raising your gaze a little; you didn't want to look for the little animal so blatantly.
"Yes, I'm sure of it," he murmured, apologizing to whoever he was talking to before taking your waist and starting to lead you towards one of the hallways.
"Where are we going?" You tilted your head, following him without hesitation. "Bruce won't pay me if I don't do my job properly."
"Don't worry about it, he'll understand." You frowned slightly, still looking at him. He seemed too tense, his eyes darting from one point to another.
Going deeper and deeper into the place, moving far enough away from the main hall.
"Tim, what's going on?"
"Nothing too bad," he said as he stepped into one of the many small rooms in the manor, closing the doors behind him. "I need you to stay here."
"Why?" you asked, truly confused, taking a seat in one of the armchairs. You hadn't realized how tired your feet were until now.
"It's... there are people here who shouldn't be and things could get tense," he explained quickly as he began to look for something to block the door with, dragging a shelf towards it.
"And that's why you're locking us up?" You were thinking it was all very exaggerated, but it was Gotham, anything could happen.
"I'm locking you in. I have to go." That made you jump up, ignoring the discomfort of your heels.
"What are you talking about? If you're locking me in, it's because it's dangerous. What are you going to do outside?" You instantly denied it as you approached him. Tim just kept locking the door.
"I need to get help. You'll be okay here."
"No, I'm not going to stay here while you leave, what's wrong with you? And what if you don't come back? The people in this city are crazy." Your heart was beating desperately and your breathing became rapid; you didn't want him to leave.
"Look, I'm just going out for a little while and I'll come back for you. If I can't do it myself, I'll send someone, okay? I won't leave you alone for long." His hands went to your face, gently cradling it. He hated seeing the fear in your eyes, but he couldn't take you out of there without knowing if there was more danger outside.
"Tim-" You pressed your lips together as well as your hands on his arms when you heard a loud bang in the distance. His eyes went straight to the door.
"I'll be back, I promise." He whispered, leaving a loud kiss on your cheek, quite close to your lips, before letting go and heading for the living room window. "Don't leave here." he repeated firmly before escaping through the window, the curtain covering the space once more.
The banging and shouting outside was not long in coming, your eyes were wide open as you moved away from the door and windows as much as you could.
The place was completely dark except for a small lamp; you hurried to turn it off before hiding in a corner behind a bookcase, crouching on the floor.
You had no idea what was happening, but you knew the need to run might come, so you quickly reached to take off your heels; your hands were trembling too much.
Your breathing was noisy, startling you every time there were loud noises. You didn't know if they could get closer to the room you were in.
You had left your heels somewhere near you; every now and then you looked out the window to see if Tim was coming back. You were starting to get desperate and wanted to get out of there.
You didn't know how long you'd been there, but at some point the noises began to stop. All you could think was that Tim still hadn't returned and you had no idea where he was.
A couple of knocks on the window alerted you, making you get up but not go any closer. The curtain moved slightly before revealing your favorite vigilante.
"Where's Tim?" was the first thing you asked; it probably didn't make sense to do it, but you couldn't help it.
"He's fine, I need to get you out of here." He said, approaching you. He looked very agitated, his hair was disheveled, and he seemed to have some recent bruises on his face.
"Okay, where? He said he'd be back soon and he didn't. Where is he?" You shook your head, moving further away from him as he approached. You weren't going to leave without him. You knew that many times they said your loved ones were fine just to keep you from panicking.
"He's outside with the others. He came to find you, but I stopped him. Now let's go. We have to get out of here; it's not over yet." You roughly pushed his hand away as he reached for you.
"What do you mean it's not over yet? How can you leave him out when there's still danger?!" Your voice was getting louder; you knew Tim could defend himself, but you didn't know the magnitude of the matter.
Red Robin seemed to be having an internal crisis, covering your mouth with one of his hands. "If you make noise, they'll come this way. I'm going to take you to him, but I need to get you out of here first." You were about to complain once again, but he wouldn't let you.
In an instant he had taken you, settling you on his shoulder before hurrying back to the window. "Let go of me! I have to find Him."
Your hands were pounding his back, his grip tightening. The blows you were delivering were pointless given his armor. "Let me go!"
You thrashed your legs, trying to kick him, but he managed to hold you tight as you left. You immediately tried to find your friend among the people around you. "Tim!" You couldn't see him anywhere, nor could you see his brothers. Fear grew stronger inside you.
His family had organized the gala; they had surely come for them, and you couldn't do anything. "Where is he?" you finally sobbed, stopping the blows as Red Robin ran through the gardens.
Your sobbing made him feel like his heart was breaking into pieces; he needed to get you to safety before saying anything. "Red, please. Just tell me the truth, where is he?" You pleaded between sobs, you didn't like where the whole thing was going.
"I'm right here." He whispered as he led you as far away from the manor as possible, approaching a greenhouse they had fixed up some time ago for his adoptive mother. "You'd be safe there."
"I know you're here! That's not what I'm asking. Where's my boyfriend?!" you asked, hitting his back again, shaking violently to try to break free from his grip.
The mere word made him smile, but it was more important to calm you down; he might get emotional later. "I'm right here, doll. It's me," he finally said, setting you down on the floor, his hands going straight up to your cheeks so you would look at him. "It's me, I'm fine, dollie."
Your eyes scanned his face, not quite understanding what the hell Red Robin was saying to you?
"Do I look stupid to you?" the question came out without further ado, still looking at him in confusion and annoyance. A short laugh escaped his lips, a laugh you knew very well.
"Of course not. And I'm telling you the truth, darling." He tried to calm you down, his voice becoming softer until you recognized it was him; he knew that fear clouded people's judgment. "I'm your Tim. I didn't want you to find out like this."
Your mouth was slightly open, looking at him in disbelief, quickly your hands went to his hair, removing it from his forehead, right on one side you could see the beauty mark that you had kissed so many times.
"You... You damn bastard, Timothy!" You slapped him hard across the chest, taking him by surprise. "What the hell is wrong with you? You leave me alone in the middle of a disaster and then you show up saying you're a vigilante?! I thought you'd been killed, youâ you motherfucker!"
"I know, I know, and I'm sorry. I didn't mean for things to turn out this way, but I couldn't tell you with all those other people around. I needed to get you to safety first, sweetheart." He tried to explain as he grabbed your wrists to stop you from hitting me again. "Don't be mad at me, sweetie. I don't like it when you get really upset."
"Don't tell me how to feel! I thought you were gone, and Redâ and you wouldn't tell me where you were, you just kept running away." Your voice broke as a thick tear ran down your cheek. "You scared me so much, Tim."
His hands released yours to cradle your face again; he was frustrated by having gloves on and not being able to feel your skin directly. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I'm so sorry," he whispered before wrapping you completely in a hug. "I promise I'm okay, and I'm going to be okay."
He held you close for a few seconds, only pulling away slightly when your breathing calmed down a little more. "I have to get back to the others, but I'll come as soon as we're finished and we'll talk properly, okay? I promise."
"You said a while ago that you'd come back," you shook your head slightly, but you still let him get away. There were other people in danger.
"And I did, didn't I?" A wide smile appeared on her lips, leaving a quick kiss on your cheek. "Give me a moment and you can scold me all you want. I'm not going to leave my girlfriend alone for too long again.â
âMy girlfriend' only when he left did you realize that you had called him your boyfriend a couple of minutes ago.
With a sigh and feeling your cheeks burn, you entered the greenhouse completely and took a seat in one of the rocking chairs. The moon illuminated the place through the large windows. You could see the flowers and plants that Tim's mother had there. You'd been told it was a gift for her on her first Mother's Day in the Wayne family.
There were some photos hanging on one of the columns; it was her with all the boys and some individual shots. You had met her a while ago and found her very warm. You could understand why they loved her so much.
Seeing Tim as a teenager had been very endearing; he still had the same smile as always. You were still a little nervous, but you managed to distract yourself enough by looking at things around the place.
Every now and then you looked towards the garden; your cell phone was still in his suit pants, so you couldn't try to find out what was happening through the news either.
A low sigh escaped your lips. Your Tim was Red Robin.
You certainly hadn't expected that, but now you understand many things. Including the time he appeared to shield you from the rain, covering your face with both hands when he remembered you telling him how attractive you found him.
But oh well, now you had a 2-for-1
While you were waiting for him, it wasn't hard to make connections. Without a doubt, Mr. Wayne must be Batman; his brothers were also pretty obvious, now that you thought about it.
After what seemed like an eternity, you heard the small door open again. Turning around, you saw Red Robinâor Tim?âenter the place, completely exhausted.
You stood up instantly, approaching him with concern; you could see that the bruises were becoming more visible. "Are you okay?"
"Better than ever," he murmured as his arms wrapped tightly around you. Instinctively, you brought your nose to his neck. He smelled of his usual cologne, but mixed with sweat and dust, perhaps even a hint of gunpowder.
"You're sweaty, Timothy," you murmured. You wouldn't usually let him hug you like that, but today you'd make an exception. You chuckled a little as you felt him hug you tighter.
"Oh well, you'll just have to deal with it." His nose buried itself in your hair, leaving a soft kiss. He didn't want to let go of you just yet.
You stayed like that with him, just closing your eyes and allowing yourself to enjoy the moment. "You have no idea how much I've wanted to tell you."
"Don't worry, it's something delicate, I understand that you haven't done it before." you whispered, still with your eyes closed, his hands caressing your waist as he became more relaxed.
"I wanted to tell you when I told you I liked you and wanted to be your boyfriend... But things got a little complicated," he admitted, somewhat embarrassed. He didn't like it when his plans got out of control.
"Well, technically I declared you my boyfriend and then you told me. It didn't turn out so bad." You smiled slightly, pulling back just enough to look at him, groaning when you met his domino mask. "I want to see your eyes."
With a small smile, he removed her mask, leaving it somewhere but continuing to look at you. "Better?"
"far better"
"So... are we officially dating?" He asked, tilting his head. You could swear it was one of the hottest pictures you'd ever seen.
"I think so," you whispered, bringing a hand to his cheek, caressing it very gently. "I take it back, Red Robin isn't cute. He's definitely fucking hot."
"Oh, so that's what we have?" he laughed, tightening his hands on your waist and moving much closer to you.
Your noses brushes with every slight movement, his gaze lingering on your lips for a couple of seconds. "Couples kiss, right?"
"From what I know, yes." you replied in a murmur, just feeling his lips finally meet yours.
Your whole being seemed to explode with excitement, your hands circling him tighter as you returned the kiss. Although it had started gently, it soon escalated to something much more intense.
Your fingers began to play with the hair on the back of his neck while one of his hands went down to your hip, the other went a little further, resting on your ass in an instant.
A small giggle was stifled by the kiss when you felt him tighten his grip there. "Don't laugh, I've been wanting to do this for a while, doll." he murmured against your lips, taking a breath before kissing you again with the same intensity. "And the dress you're wearing doesn't help me in the slightest."
"It's not my fault, you chose it." One of your hands moved up a little more, trying to bring his face closer to yours to continue the kiss.
"I'm definitely going to pick out clothes for you more often." The hand that was on your hip found its way to the opening of your dress, going up your bare leg until he found the edge of your panties.
"Tim, we're in your mother's greenhouse," you whispered against his lips. You couldn't deny that you wanted him to take you right there, but you believed you should at least be a little respectful of your now mother-in-law's places.
He moaned against your lips, lowering his other hand to grasp your buttocks beneath your dress and lift you with ease. "What if I don't take it off? Just light touches," he murmured, slowly trailing kisses down your neck until your back pressed against one of the columns. "It'll be quick, then we can go home." When he pulled away a little, you could see his eyes; they shone with pure desire.
He pressed you closer to his body, finally able to feel how hard he was. If your cunt was already wet from seeing him in the suit and without the mask, now it was much wetter.
"Just touching, Tim. At home we can do whatever you want." you murmured, unable to hold back much longer. For several weeks the idea of being like this with him had been going around in your mind, you couldn't miss the opportunity.
Although, well, this most likely wouldn't be the last time.
A/N: Ok! This was tricky to fix on Tumblr, but here it is. It's the first time I've written such a long one-shot, and I really hope it turned out well. I put a lot of effort into it :( I wanted to do something nice for Tim.
This happens about 6-7 years after Happy Mother's Day! tee-hee
one of the tags should also be idiots in love because wtf do you mean you act like a couple down to like small kisses and affectionate physical touch BUT YOU ARENT TOGETHER???? it would not ruin their friendship because this is just a relationship
plot! after a flustered dick grayson spends the day distracted on patrol, he meets you on the streets as robin and tries to romance you behind his confident hero persona. when he gently leans in for a kiss, you politely reject robin, confessing that your heart belongs to a shy, awkward boy from school who blushes easily and laughs too loud
All day your words looped in his head in the worst, best way possible. He was kind. He made me feel safe. He was cute. Dick sat through classes pretending to take notes while internally combusting because you hadnât known it was him. That was the part that wouldnât leave him alone. You liked Robin, you liked the version of him that didnât trip over words, that didnât blush so hard his ears turned red, that didnât forget how to breathe when you stood too close. You liked the confident one, the capable one, the hero, and that did something dangerous to his heart.
Because what if⊠what if you could like him too? Not just Dick who laughed too loud and rambled and got shy, but him, all of him. You had seen Robin without knowing it was Dick, you had judged him without bias and you liked what you saw. That realization sat warm and terrifying in his chest the entire afternoon. By the time patrol came, he was distracted enough that Bruce noticed.
âFocusâ Batman said sharply as they moved across the rooftops. Dick snapped back into place immediately, flipping cleanly onto the next ledge, but his mind kept drifting back to your smile when you talked about Robin. Cute dimples. He nearly missed a grapple line because of that. Bruceâs eyes narrowed beneath the cowl. âSomething youâd like to share?â âNopeâ Robin chirped too quickly, landing in a crouch. Bruce grunted in that way that meant I know youâre lying but Iâll allow it for now.
They split at the next intersection, Batman heading toward a warehouse lead, Robin instructed to circle the Narrows perimeter and report back. Dick swung between buildings, wind rushing past his ears, cape snapping behind him, and he let himself breathe. Up here, masked, moving, he didnât feel awkward, he felt sharp, certain, sure of where his hands would land and how far he could jump. Robin wasnât unsure, robin didnât stutter, robin didnât second-guess whether a girl could ever see him that way, and maybe that was why you liked him.
He landed lightly on a fire escape and scanned the street below out of habit, and then froze, because there you were again. Same street as last night, walking alone, hugging your jacket closer against the wind. His heart kicked into overdrive, but this time it wasnât panic, it was something steadier, something almost hopeful.
He dropped down into the alley ahead of you and stepped out into the lamplight just as you approached, boots quiet on the pavement. You startled slightly but relaxed the second you recognized the red and green. âOh,â you breathed, and there it was again, that soft smile. âHi.â God. That smile. Even through the mask, he felt it like sunlight. He straightened a little, confidence settling over him like a second cape. âEvening,â he said smoothly, pitching his voice into that slightly deeper, playful tone he used as Robin. âYouâre making this a habitâ You laughed softly. âI could say the same to you.â He stepped closer, not too close, just enough that he could see the way your hair caught the light. âWhat can I say? Gothamâs full of coincidences.â You shook your head, amused. âAre you patrolling or following me?â He placed a hand over his chest dramatically. âI would never. Iâm wounded.â You smiled wider at that and there it was, that ease. You weren't nervous around him, you looked at Robin like you trusted him, like you liked him. He cleared his throat gently. âHeading home again?â You nodded. âYeah. I promise Iâm not trying to create extra work for you.â âItâs not extra work,â he replied quickly, softer now. âItâs⊠important.â
You studied him for a moment, and something in your gaze felt deeper tonight. Curious. Warm. âYouâre very dedicatedâ you said. âSomeone has to be,â he answered lightly, then added before he could stop himself, âEspecially when it comes to people who deserve it.â You blinked at that, cheeks pinking slightly.
The wind shifted between you, and without thinking, he reached out, not grabbing, not bold, just offering his hand the way he might help someone over a ledge. âMay I?â he asked gently. You hesitated only a second before placing your hand in his. Your fingers were warm despite the cold, the contact shot up his arm like lightning, but Robin didnât flinch, robin held steady. He adjusted his grip slightly, not possessive, just protective, and started walking beside you. This time your hands didnât almost brush, they were connected and you didnât pull away.
âYou donât have to do this every timeâ you said softly. âI know.â He glanced sideways at you. âI want to.â Your thumb shifted slightly against his glove, barely a movement, but enough that he felt it everywhere. âYouâre very kindâ you murmured. He smiled under the mask. âIâve been told.â You laughed quietly. âYou have?â âYeah,â he said, thinking of her words from earlier. âRecently.â
You looked up at him again, studying his face. And he wondered, just for a second, if you saw it, if you recognized something familiar in the curve of his smile beneath the domino mask. But you didnât say anything. Instead you asked, âDo you ever get tired?â He considered that honestly. âSometimes.â âWhy keep doing it?â He looked ahead at the dark stretch of street, then back at you. âBecause when I walk someone home and they feel safe⊠it makes it worth it.â Your expression softened so much it nearly undid him. âThatâs exactly what you did last night.â His heart pounded. âYeah?â âYeah.â You squeezed his hand gently. Not tight, just enough. âThank you.â And Robin, confident, capable, brave Robin, felt his chest swell with something brighter than any spotlight Haleyâs Circus had ever pointed at him. Because you liked him, you liked him without knowing, you liked the parts he was afraid werenât enough. And standing there in the Gotham night, hand in yours, mask hiding the blush creeping across his cheeks, Dick Grayson allowed himself, for the first time, to believe that maybe you could like all of him, not just the hero, not just the boy, but both. And this time, when he looked at you, he didnât feel like he was pretending.
Robin kept stealing glances at you when he thought you wouldnât notice. You were smiling at something heâd just said, some light joke about almost tripping over a gargoyle earlier, and he felt that dangerous warmth spreading through his chest again. He slowed slightly as you reached a quieter stretch of sidewalk, the city noise dull and distant. He turned toward you, still holding your hand, and for once the confidence the mask gave him didnât feel like pretending, it felt like courage, and not the kind used in fights, the other kind, the kind Bruce never taught him how to handle.
You noticed the shift immediately. âWhat?â you asked softly, head tilting just a little.
He swallowed. His heart was beating so loudly he was convinced you could hear it. âCan I ask you something?â His voice had lost some of its playful edge. It was quieter now. Real.
âOf course.â
He hesitated, not because he didnât want to, but because he wanted to do it right. He didnât want to scare you, didnât want to assume. He stepped half a pace closer, still leaving space for you to pull away if you wanted. His free hand lifted slowly, carefully, giving you every opportunity to stop him. His fingers brushed a strand of hair away from you face, feather-light, asking permission in the gentlest way he knew how.
Her breath caught slightly, not in fear, but in surprise.
âIâŠâ He faltered for just a fraction of a second, then found his footing again. âIâve really liked walking you home.â
You smiled softly. âIâve liked it too.â
Encouraged, he let his thumb trace gently over your knuckles through the glove. âAnd I was just wondering if maybe⊠I couldââ
He leaned in slowly. Respectfully. Not rushing, not claiming, just offering.
And you understood.
Your free hand came up between you, resting lightly against his chest, not pushing hard, just stopping him with the gentlest pressure. Your expression wasnât upset, it wasnât uncomfortable, it was soft. Apologetic.
âOh,â you breathed quietly. âRobinâŠâ
He froze instantly, pulled back half an inch, searching your face through the mask.
âIâm sorry,â you said, voice warm and sincere. âYouâre⊠really wonderful. Truly. And youâve been so kind to me.â
His stomach dropped, but he forced himself to stay still. To listen.
âBut,â you continued gently, âI⊠I like someone.â
The words hit him like stepping off a roof without a grapple.
He tried to keep his tone light. âOh.â
âItâs justâŠâ You looked down at your hands, still connected, and then back up at him. âHeâs a friend from school.â
His heart stuttered.
You kept talking, unaware you were unraveling him and stitching him back together at the same time. âHeâs not⊠flashy. Or mysterious. Heâs not a hero like you.â You smiled faintly. âHeâs kind of awkward sometimes.â
Robinâs breath caught.
âHe laughs too loud at dumb jokes,â you went on, your voice soft and fond. âAnd he blushes really easily. And he pretends heâs confident but heâs actually really shy.â
His pulse roared in his ears.
âHeâs thoughtful,â you added. âAnd he cares so much about people. Even when he doesnât say it out loud.â
Dick felt something fragile bloom in his chest.
âAnd I thinkâŠâ You hesitated, almost embarrassed now. âI think he doesnât realize how wonderful he is.â
Robin couldnât breathe.
You let out a small, nervous laugh. âHeâs probably still too shy to tell me anything. But I donât mind waiting.â
Waiting.
âFor him?â Robin managed, voice quieter now.
You nodded. âYeah.â Your thumb brushed lightly against the back of his glove in an absent, apologetic gesture. âI want to wait for him.â
The streetlight hummed faintly overhead. Gotham carried on around them. But inside Robinâs chest, everything had gone very still.
You were describing him.
Every word.
The awkward laugh. The blushing. The pretending. The caring too much.
You were refusing Robin, the cool hero, the confident vigilante, the boy you said was cute, because you liked⊠Dick.
Because you wanted him.
He swallowed hard, fighting the stupid grin threatening to break across his face.
You mistook his silence for disappointment and squeezed his hand gently. âIâm really sorry,â you said again. âYou deserve someone amazing.â
He found his voice, softer now. Less performative. âHe sounds⊠lucky.â
Your cheeks warmed. âI donât know about that.â
Robin tilted his head slightly. âHe is,â he insisted quietly. âIf someone like you is willing to wait for him.â
You looked at him with that same gentle sweetness you always did. âYouâre going to make someone very happy too,â you told him.
Oh, he thought, I already am.
He stepped back properly this time, giving you space, letting your hands slip apart slowly. He didnât let it feel rejected. He let it feel⊠understood.
âI hope he doesnât keep you waiting too longâ Robin said lightly, though his heart felt like it might burst out of his ribs.
You smiled softly. âMe too.â
And then you did something that nearly undid him again, you reached up and squeezed his arm affectionately. âThank you for being honest.â
He almost laughed at that.
âYeah,â he said quietly. âHonest.â
You resumed walking, but the air between you had shifted, not awkward, not tense. Just clearer. Softer.
Robin felt lighter than he had in weeks.
You had chosen him.
Not the mask.
Not the symbol.
Not the cool, confident version.
The awkward boy who blushed and laughed too loud and didnât know how to make the first move.
And for the first time in his life, Dick Grayson didnât feel like he had to compete with Robin.
And as you walked under the quiet Gotham sky, Robin smiled behind the mask, not because heâd been refused.
Summary: you realized your neighbor was Red Hood and have been using it to your advantage
Warnings: None
When you graduated from University, you had big dreams about moving to a city like Metropolis. Somewhere that was the opposite of Gotham. Where people looked to the skies in hope of Superman instead of waiting til midnight for the Bat to show up. But when you could not find a job in your field post-grad, you ended up back where you grew up, Crime Alley. You thought going to school would be your ticket out, but instead, you lived in a shoddy apartment building with bad plumbing and a lot of crime.
Your neighbor across the hall was always a mystery. Coming in and out at odd hours. Somehow, you figured out that he was the infamous Red Hood. He denied it, of course, and called you crazy when you confronted him, but you knew you were right. Female intuition and all that. Since you knew the vigilante's identity, you decided you might as well take advantage of it. Because no matter how many times Jason denied it, when you asked for help, Red Hood always showed up.
Thanks to the paper-thin walls of your apartment, you had learned the sound of Jason's heavy footsteps. You jumped off your couch, and before Jason could get into his apartment, you stuck your head out of your door.
âHey Jason, wanted to let you know I get off at midnight tomorrow, and I would really appreciate an escort home," you say
âAnd you are telling me that because..." he replies, giving you an incredulous look while you shrug.
âYou know why. If the Red Hood is walking me home, no one will think of messing with me. And, isnât it chivalrous for a man to make sure a lady gets home safe?â You ask rhetorically, giving Jason your best smile before closing the door.
The following day, you clocked out a little after midnight and stepped into the cold Gotham air. You looked around and were greeted with nothing but an empty street, illuminated only by the dim lamp posts. You sighed and clutched your purse a little tighter. You needed to steel your nerves if you were going to walk home. You have done this walk plenty of times and been just fine. Everything would be okay.
Once you start walking, doubt creeps in. Maybe you had gotten it wrong, and Jason wasn't Red Hood. Before your thoughts could spiral, Red Hood stepped out of the shadows in front of you. When he speaks, the voice is not that of Jason, which you had become accustomed to. However, those green eyes told on him. Told you deep down that it was Jason behind that mask.
âI was told you needed to be accompanied home,â the voice behind the mask says.
âAnd who told you that, hm?â You ask with a smirk, while he stays silent. You giggle softly and start walking again, this time with more confidence and Red Hood at your side.
Jason is helping you bring your groceries inside when you ask for help again.
âThere is a bus stop at the end of the street. Whenever I go on my runs, I see this group of assholes that mess with the kids when they get off. They shove them around and take money off them if they have anyâ.
âYou would like me to do what about the situation?â Jason asks, confused, holding the door open for you.
âWell, the Red Hood canât only beat up criminals and walk me home from work. He should do more to help in his community's daily life. We all know how bad Crime Alley is. If he could help a group of kids get home from school safe, maybe he could start to make an actual difference around here," you say, setting your groceries down on the counter in your kitchen
"Yeah, that isn't really Red Hood's style, though. He is much more worried about taking out the real bad guys," Jason replies, which causes you to roll your eyes.
"Then the Red Hood is just as big an asshole as those guys. 'The real bad guys', those bad guys are very real to those kids. If I could talk to Red Hood, I'd tell him he's just as full of shit as the politicians who promise to make this place better. If he wanted to put his ego in check and actually make a difference, he would do something to help those kids".
The next time you go on a run, you watch the group of kids get off the bus. The fear is written on their faces at what they expect to come. When they step off, no one is there. They all look around in shock; a couple even break out in smiles. You watch them walk in all directions, a newfound pep in their step. When you get back to your apartment, you slip a thank-you note under Jason's door.
It would be rude to ask Jason, Red Hood, for help all this time and not repay him in some way. That is how you found yourself knocking on his door, a fresh pan of homemade brownies in your arms. When Jason opens the door, it is clear you woke him from sleep. He scratches his head and looks at you expectantly.
âI come in peace. I know I've been busting your chops, but I really appreciate all your help lately. I'm sure you do a lot of other stuff behind the scenes, I know nothing about too. So, here is my offering. I made these brownies fresh this morning, I hope you like them!" you smile, extending the tray towards Jason. He takes it, the warm bottom heating up his arms while he visually inspects them. âAnd since Iâm here," you start, continuing through the sound of Jason groaning. "I will be going to the club tonight. The creepy guy who sits on the step always tries to touch me when I get back. I should be home around two if our red friend could do me a huge favorâ
When you got back from the club, stumbling and digging through your bag to find your keys, it wasn't until you got to your apartment door that you realized the man was missing from the step. In fact, you hadnât been catcalled all night.
Your relationship with Jason went on this way. Sometimes you asked for favors, but more so, you started telling him about the things you would see around Crime Alley that you thought he could help with. You knew Jason was a big softie. As much as he was focused on fighting the big evils, he took your words to heart. He was born in Crime Alley, too, and he wanted it to be a better place for the kids who are just like you and Jason.
You knew you played only a small part; you were just a relayer of information, an observer. But you still felt like you were making a big difference in Crime Alley. This was your home, and you wanted it to be safer not only for yourself, but also for all the people and families who also lived there.
Jason still would not admit he was the Red Hood. At this point, you believed he did it just to mess with you. He did not love the fact that a civilian knew his identity. But he did believe you would never reveal it, and you brought him great information. To make it all better, you kept bringing him desserts, and you were getting better each time. So, he decided he was okay with walking you home from work, or busting up the gang that took over the park, or making sure the old lady on the first floor didnât steal your takeout.
âEdmund!â A frantic voice called out through the west wing of Cair Paravel. âEdmund, come quickly!âÂ
The just kingâs heart sank. He raced down the hall, pushing past lords, ladies, and servants alike to get to his wife. She was rather far along, he told himself. Perhaps she had gone into labor early⊠The very thought filled him with fear. Their rooms were in the east wing, completely across the vast castle.Â
He wouldnât want her to deliver in a place she was not familiar with, but unless she wanted to walk across the castleâŠ
He burst through the doors, ready for anything.Â
Anything except his very pregnant wife laughing at their eldest, who had ripped their rather expensive curtains and turned them into a tunic of some sort. The girl was merely five, but as his wife said, very conscious of her fashion choices.Â
Edmund tried not to glare at the fair queen, walking beside her and placing a gentle hand on her stomach. âHow is the babe?âÂ
âFine.â She waved him off, kissing his cheek quickly as she watched their daughter.Â
He smiled, watching her grin widen. âAnd you? How are you?âÂ
âFine, Edmund. Iâm fine,â She rubbed her stomach, grabbing his hand in hers. âHeâs fine. Weâre all fine.â Her eyebrows contorted with a sort of concern and humor. âDid you run here? I hope I didnât worry-â
He shook his head, kissing her lips lightly. âHow do you know it will be a boy?âÂ
âA mother always knows.â She smirked. âJust like I knew the last time.âÂ
Edmund rolled his eyes, turning back to their daughter. âPeter will be furious.âÂ
âAt you perhaps,â Y/N murmured. âYour brother adores Caroline. He will find it hilarious.âÂ
âCaroline,â Edmund called out, distracting their daughter. âCome here, my love.âÂ
The small girl raced over, attaching herself to her fatherâs leg. âPapa!âÂ
He lifted his leg, groaning. âYou are quite strong. Tell me, how did you rip the curtain?âÂ
The child giggled. âI cut it.âÂ
Edmund looked up at his wife slowly, who was hiding her laughter behind her hand. âReally?âÂ
Y/N nodded. âI got caught in the hall talking to Lord Dilitmov and she ran off.â Gesturing towards their very attentive daughter, she laughed again. âThis is how I found her.âÂ
Edmund couldnât help it anymore, laughing along with her. âYou are quite the mischievous child.â He shook his head, walking out of the room with his wifeâs arm through his and his daughter attached to his leg. âI wonder where you get it from.âÂ
Caroline giggled. âYou, Papa!âÂ
Edmund scoffed, shaking his head as they (slowly) walked down the hall. âNonsense. You get that trait from your mother.âÂ
Y/N raised her eyebrow. âI thought we established we were not to lie to our children, Edmund.âÂ
Caroline nodded, batting her eyelashes. âAre you lying, Papa?âÂ
Edmund sighed. âYou twoâŠâÂ
two.
âBut Father-âÂ
âNo!â Edmund snapped, staring at his children from his throne. It had been the middle of his weekly audience with the people of Narnia, and his children had burst in, interrupting for thirty minutes. He had explicitly told them to only interrupt if it was an emergency. While he loved his children greatly, his people needed his time, and they could not interrupt just because the wished to.Â
Apparently that message had not stuck.Â
âEdmundâŠâ Y/N leaned over, whispering in her husbandâs ear. âYou know what Iâm going to say.âÂ
He shook his head. âMy love, that is completely out of the question. It is too dangerous-âÂ
She rose an eyebrow, halting him in his tracks. âDid we or did we not go into the Narnian woods alone when we were merely 11?âÂ
âThat-âÂ
âDid we or did we not?âÂ
He sighed. âWe did-âÂ
âExactly.âÂ
âButâŠâ His children groaned. âWe had no idea of the danger that lay in wait. That the entire world was in.â He grabbed his wife's hand, kissing the back gently. âWhat if she comes back? What if there are assassins or-âÂ
âEdmund, she has been gone for twenty eight years. And since when have there been assassins? They will be perfectly safe.â Y/N kissed the back of his hand in return. âTrust me.âÂ
âPlease father?â His son pleaded. âCaroline has wanted to show me-â The elder girl elbowed her brother, effectively cutting him off. âI meant, Caroline heard of a-âÂ
Edmund waved his hand. âCaroline, I expect you to watch over your brother.â He sat straight in his throne. âYou may be eleven, Stephen, but you are my son, and I do not want you or your sister going into the Woods without telling us. Ever again.â He looked over at his daughter. âDonât think General Oreius hasnât been keeping me updated on your little excursions.âÂ
Caroline groaned. âPapa, I am sixteen, surely you believe I am capable of handling myself.âÂ
âYour father loves you my dear.â Y/N smiled. âYou are an independent and strong young lady, but you are still a princess-âÂ
âOf Narnia, yes I know. I am constantly reminded.â Caroline crossed her arms. âMay we please be excused?âÂ
Edmund nodded. âBe safe, please. For my sake.âÂ
As soon as they had left the throne room, Edmund gestured for a guard to approach. âSend a scout after them, ensure they are not harmed.âÂ
The guard nodded, walking away before the fair queen called after him. âMake sure you are not seen.â Edmund tilted his head, and she sighed. âWe canât let them think we donât trust them, Edmund.â
He groaned, leaning his head against the back of his throne. âCaroline despises me. I can see it as clear as day.âÂ
Y/N laughed. âOh my dear boyâŠâÂ
Edmund shook his head, looking over at his radiant wife. âNot a boy. Not anymore.âÂ
âYou will always be a boy. That will never change.â She smiled. âJust as our daughterâs love will never change.âÂ
âShe used to love me, always following me around and attending meetings. Now she cannot be in the same room as me without disagreeing.âÂ
âShe is growing, Edmund. It is a confusing time for anyone, let alone a young princess with duties and responsibilities. She loves you, trust me.âÂ
âWhy did she have to grow so fast?â Edmundâs eyes began to water. âMy little girl.âÂ
Y/N laughed again, kissing her husbandâs cheek sympathetically. âShall we call the audience back?âÂ
He nodded, clearing his throat. âI believe we should.âÂ
three.
Edmund stood on his terrace, watching his son train in the courtyard. He was getting good, better even, than Edmund himself. In his prime, as he so often reminded his children, he had been the best swordsman in Narnia, better than their uncle.Â
Now, he swapped his sword for a pen, making sure all the laws he had implemented over the years were documented correctly. His son, when he was of age, would take up the mantle of Commander of the Narnian Army. Until then, his cousin, Peterâs eldest son, would hold the position.Â
Stephen was always trying to prove himself to his father, although Edmund could not figure out why. He thought his son was a fantastic young prince, kind, cunning, and just. He was well loved by the people of Cair Paravel, and he treated everyone with respect.Â
Edmund couldnât have asked for a better son than him. He loved his children more than anything, besides his wife, and hoped that they knew that.Â
He waved as Stephen looked up, eyes widening when he realized his father was watching. His son waved back, only to be taken by surprise from his tutor, swiping his legs out from under him. Stephen fell backwards, landing on the ground with a thud, stilling.Â
Edmundâs smile dropped, and he threw his quill to the ground, running to the courtyard.Â
What he did not see was his son pretending to be hurt in order to catch his tutor off guard.Â
Edmund burst through the large doors, yelling. âWhere is my son? What-âÂ
Stephen froze, turning around with bright red cheeks. âFather, youâre embarrassing me-âÂ
Edmund raced over, hugging him tightly. âAre you quite alright?âÂ
âFather I am-âÂ
The instructor interrupted. âIf I may Your Majesty, your son disarmed me.â He smiled. âQuite cunningly in fact.âÂ
Edmund laughed, looking back at his son. âIs that true?âÂ
Stephen nodded. âYes, Father.âÂ
âWellâŠâ Edmund clapped his hands. âI am sorry for overreacting.âÂ
Stephen laughed. âItâs alright, Father. Truthfully, I'm glad you were watching.â He nudged the king. âPerhaps we can spar each other.âÂ
âAbsolutely not.â The crowd of knights and noblemen alike turned around, kneeling instantly. âYour Majestyâ echoed through the yard as the fair queen walked towards her family. Y/N kissed her son on the cheek. âYou know your father has a bad shoulder.âÂ
Edmund glared playfully at his wife. âMy love, it is fine.âÂ
âOh, is it?â She crossed her arms. âI remember you saying just last night that-â Edmund kissed her quickly, much to the dismay of their son.Â
âReally Papa? You two are much too old to be acting this way.âÂ
And daughter, apparently. The older couple turned around, smiling at the Princess. âI am never too old to appreciate your motherâs beauty, Caroline.â He smiled, kissed her cheek gently. âNever too old.âÂ
Y/N smiled back, watching as Caroline completely ignored her father, staring at her brotherâs instructor with an intensity that Y/N could only compare to how she looked at Edmund. The instructor locked eyes, blushing immediately and taking his leave from the courtyard.Â
Interesting, Y/N thought as she watched her daughterâs attention drift away. Very interesting.
four.
âFather!â A voice echoed through the west wing, and Edmundâs heart dropped. âFather, come quickly!âÂ
He ran like a young man again, whipping through the lords and ladies alike to get to his daughter. His grandchildren were young, and he had fussed over them almost as much as he had his own children. The thought of something happening to them, or his daughter filled him with a sense of dread.Â
Slamming the doors open, he let out an audible sigh of relief when he saw the entirety of his family standing around the table, a birthday cake with too many candles in the center. He walked up to his daughter, kissing her on the cheek. âYou almost gave me a heart attack, young lady.âÂ
Caroline laughed, kissing her fatherâs cheek in return. âNot so young anymore Papa.â She gestured toward the cake. âMake a wish.âÂ
Peter yelled out from his chair. Edmundâs heart always broke at the sight; his once full of life, powerful older brother, was now an old man, older than Edmund had ever imagined him. âTake your time Ed. Iâm not getting any younger.âÂ
Edmund glared, shoving his brother playfully. âHow does your wife put up with you I wonder.âÂ
Peter scoffed. âProbably as well as yours does. Poor Y/N.â He laughed. âShe is a saint for marrying you. As are your children for putting up with you.âÂ
Lucy sighed. âCan you two please stop bickering?âÂ
Susan nodded. âIt is quite exhausting.âÂ
Edmund rolled his eyes. âWhere is your mother Stephen? I have not seen her all day-âÂ
The door creaked, and Edmund turned around, grinning. Aslan, she was radiant. As radiant as the day he met her, nearly eighty years ago. Approaching her husband, she kissed him gently, whispering so they were the only two that heard. âMiss me?âÂ
âEvery moment you are away.â Edmund responded, taking her arm. âHow was your day my love?âÂ
âIt-âÂ
His grandchildren groaned. âGrandfather, cut the cake, please!âÂ
Caroline widened her eyes. âBehave yourselves. Honestly, I donât know where you get it from.âÂ
The old couple broke out into hysterical laughter, as did the rest of the room almost immediately after. âOh my dear girl.â Edmund said in between laughs. âWe are quite similar.âÂ
Stephen scoffed. âWho does that make me like-â Caroline smacked her brother over the head, and he stopped, turning slowly toward his sister. âWhat was that for?âÂ
âShut it.â She hissed, smiling sweetly back at her parents. âShall we cut your cake Father?âÂ
Edmund nodded, approaching the cake. âWhat flavor is it?âÂ
âRaspberry and chocolate.â Caroline smiled. âYour favourite.âÂ
Edmund grinned, taking a deep breath. Closing his eyes for a moment, flashes of his life flew through, from when he first met his new neighbor (now wife) to now. Taking a deep breath, he opened his eyes, blowing out the candles with a single blow. The room erupted into cheers, his youngest granddaughter pulling on his tunic. âWhat did you wish for Grandfather?âÂ
He knelt down, whispering. âIt wouldnât be much of a wish if I told you, now would it?âÂ
She shook her head, giggling. âI suppose not.âÂ
He stood up, looking over at his wife with all the love he could muster. Y/N stared back, smiling gently. âAre you quite alright, my love?â
âPerfect.â Edmund whispered. âThank you.âÂ
She laughed, leaning her head on his shoulder as they looked at their family. âWhatever for?âÂ
âEverything.â Edmund smiled. âEverything.â
