#tim drake dc

[cicada-rot]

Get your dog bro

[carnivor-art-ica]

[llovelygood]

Tim Drake x reader

— You know who Red Robin is, you're just waiting for your boyfriend to tell you.

!!: request by @currentblasphemy! fluff. gn!reader. no use of y/n. Long Drabble (1.3k words). stablished relationship. English is not my first language.

[dc masterlist]

“I got a D +. It’s not that bad, at least I haven't failed.” 

This morning you had gotten back your results from a history exam you did last week. An exam you hadn’t studied for, prioritizing other things that weren’t as important.

“I’ve already told you a hundred times, do you want me to help you?” Tim asked. Concerned about your academic results.

You had gone to the manor to spend some time with your boyfriend, just like you did every Friday after class. Alfred already expected you every week.

“I’m doing fine.” You said, leaving the glass of water you had just drank from on the counter. 

“A D + is not fine. You are smart. You could be getting A’s. Babe, really, if you need help I can help you.” Tim moved to stand next to you. “Maybe it’s your study method. How do you usually study?”

“I make flashcards, and diagrams, and I read the notes. It really depends on the type of exam.” 

Tim, who was now standing in front of you, leaned against the kitchen island counter and, with his hand on your waist, gently pulled you toward him.

“And which method did you use for this one?” 

You hadn’t studied for this exam. You had read the notes a couple of times, and you had an amazing photographic memory that had saved you from failing, but you weren't the kind of student to get grades like a D +. 

“You didn’t study.” Tim answered to his own question, reading your expression during your silence. 

“I had other things to do.” Your cheeks turned slightly red, while a mischievous smile appeared on your face. 

He had other things to do. He had to fight crazy people at night around Gotham. He had to solve crimes. And he had to sleep, he definitely needed to sleep. But you? You didn’t have anything else to do rather than study and sleep. 

“Other things like what?” Tim asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Like, read.” You bit your lip, trying to hide your smirk, unsuccessfully. 

“Read what?” He insisted, knowing where this was going.

“...stories.”

“Fanfictions?”

“Maybe?”

“About Red Robin.”

“Maybe.”

“Again?”

“They are really good.” You argued, noticing the very slight blush showing up in your boyfriend’s cheeks.

“You are reading about another man while dating me and failing your exams because of it?” Tim raised his eyebrows.

“I didn’t fail!” You complained. 

“Nearly.”

“But I didn’t.” you kissed his cheek. “However, I guess you’ll have to help me for my next test, I don’t want to get another D.”

He smiled and kissed your temple. “Fine, but you need to stop reading that many fanfictions.”

“How much do you think the Red Robin suit costs?” Tim heard your voice from the kitchen.

He walked into the living room, eating a sandwich he'd made himself, and saw you lying face down on the couch, scrolling through TikTok. 

Your parents had left Gotham for a few days, and you’d convinced Tim to stay with you and keep you company while they were gone. He couldn’t turn down that offer. That’s why he was here now: eating your food, sleeping in your bed… but you were wearing his clothes. Some things never change. 

“You’ve been weirdly obsessed with the guy since he appeared.” Tim said, sitting down on the floor, his back against the sofa you were fully occupying. 

“He's really cool. Look.” You showed him an edit someone had made with some dark and bad quality videos of the vigilante, and with the song ‘Breaking Dishes’ by Rihanna.

“That punch was horrible.” Tim said, referring to one of the clips in the edit. 

It wasn't. It had been an incredible punch that had knocked the guy out instantly, but Tim had to say something to keep up his cover. 

“It looks pretty solid to me.” You said, throwing your phone to the other end of the sofa. “Do you think he's handsome under the mask? He has the vibes of being a handsome guy.”

Tim was fighting the urge of saying "I don't know, you tell me”, but he couldn’t do that. Red Robin was a secret identity for a reason, and despite having been dating you for a while, he couldn’t take the risk, even if he wanted to.

“But aren’t you curious? Wouldn’t you like to know who the guy is?” 

Tim shook his head, offering you the last bite of his sandwich that you gladly accepted. 

He wasn’t curious because he obviously knew who Red Robin was. However, he could understand your curiosity. He knew you read a lot of theories online about Gotham's vigilante’s real identities, and you'd even made your very own theories about it.

“Not even a little bit?” You insisted.

“Nope.” 

“Do you know some people on the internet think he might be one of your brothers, like they think Batman is Bruce.” You said, turning your body around on the sofa and laying your head on Tim's shoulder. “I’ve read a lot of theories saying you could be the one under Red Robin’s mask.”

“Well, they couldn’t be more wrong.” Tim said.

 The weeks passed and your comments kept going.

“The guy for sure knows how to fight.”

“I read this fic last night…”

“I’ve sent you this edit. Look at those punches. Are you that strong, baby?”

“Do you think he's dating someone, like as a civilian?”

“He has to be rich, that suit sure as hell is expensive, and fits him perfectly.”

Tim was getting tired of the comments. Hearing you talk to your boyfriend about another man over and over again—even if that other man was himself—was driving him crazy. 

But he couldn’t do anything. He had to stay quiet, act normal and not be suspicious. He had to swallow the jealousy he felt from himself. 

Because he couldn’t tell you, he shouldn’t. 

But, god, he wanted to. 

“He looks like a smart guy. How high do you think his IQ is?” 

You were laying in Tim’s bed while he worked on something on his desk. When Tim heard your question, again about Red Robin, his grip on his pen tightened and the leg he had been shaking stopped.

“142.” Tim answered. 

He was done hiding, you deserved the truth, and the answers to all those stupid questions you had kept asking for the past month. 

“That’s awfully specific. How do you know?” You sat in the bed, looking directly to your boyfriend’s back, waiting for him to turn around. And he did. Turning his chair to look at you.

“Because I’m Red Robin.” He stayed looking directly at you in silence for a minute. “Look, babe, I’m sorry I didn’t–”

He cut himself off when he saw the growing smirk on your face.

“Fucking finally.” You said. 

“Wait. You knew?” Tim was surprised, to say the least. He never doubted your cleverness, but this was another level. “How long have you known?”

“For a while now, two months maybe.” 

“Two months!?” Tim nearly shouted. 

“Why do you think I kept making those comments about him—you?” 

“To make me jealous?”

“Of yourself?” You nearly laughed. 

Tim fell silent again, trying to take it all in.

You knew he was Red Robin. Had known for a while. And you had been talking about his vigilante self just to piss him off and make him confess. 

And your plan had gone just as planned. 

You had a diabolical mind. 

Thank god you were a normal person and dating him, and not some mastermind boss from a mafia. 

“So… Aren't you going to show me how strong you really are, baby?” You smirked, putting your hands on your back, faking innocence.

Tim wanted to get mad at you. But how could he? Not while you were looking at him like that and had just uncovered his secret identity using reverse psychology. 

He just stood up and walked towards his bed, towards you. 

“You are insane.” He said, trapping your body in his arms and kissing you on the lips.

“You love me.” You mirrored his smile.

“I do.”

© llovelygood

A/N: I hope you like this, I loved the request and I had been waiting to get just a little bit of free time in between working on my projects and studying for my finals to write this.

Tim Drake taglist: @farahdrawzz @princesstrunkz @jackiememopad @/currentblasphemy

dividers by @enchanthings

[nxblinee]

totally forgot to post this on here but here are some doodles I did for timmy’s bday 😛 I gotta do more digital

[moviecritc]

head over heels!tim drake and nonchalant!girlfriend headcanons ˚.✦

Tim, who screams your name when he sees you, practically running to meet you and then lift you and spin you around.

You rolls your eyes with a tiny smirk and wrapping your arms around his shoulders, just waiting for him to get tired and put you down.

He showers you on compliments every time. Your hair always looks amazing, you clothes are always perfectly matched, your make up is always stunning.

He's obsessed with anything you do. If you sit side by side at classes and you answer a question right, he gasps and blushes, how can his girlfriend be so pretty and smart?

Always blushing, by the way. It doesn't matter what you do, he has permanent red ears when he's with you.

He might be a too much of a jealous boyfriend, but compensates it on how cute he looks when he gets it. You can be talking to another guy, letting him take a picture of your notes and he sulks in a corner. If you were in an anime, he would get a dark aura and sad music around him.

He doesn't wait for the interaction to finish, he comes to you, resting his chin on your neck and watching everything. You don't say anything, already used to it.

Tim, who, the second the other guy finally walks away, immediately turns his face into the side of your neck and mumbles “he was standing way too close” against your skin.

You just pat his head once like he’s a grumpy cat. “He needed the notes, Tim.”

“He has eyes. He could’ve photocopied them from three feet away.”

You let him hold your hand in the hallway even though you normally walk with your hands in your pockets.

The moment your fingers lace with his he lights up like a Christmas tree and starts swinging your joined hands like a middle-schooler.

You don’t pull away. You do sigh very dramatically though. He finds the sigh adorable. Of course he does.

He has a folder in his phone called “❤️” that is just… you. You eating a sandwich. You glaring at your laptop during a late-night study session. You mid-yawn. You asleep on his shoulder in the library with your cheek squished. He scrolls through it when you’re not around and sighs like a Victorian poet.

You once absentmindedly reached over during movie night and tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. He froze. Completely. Didn’t breathe for a solid eight seconds.

Then he whispered, “Do that again. Please. I need to make sure it wasn’t a hallucination.” You did it again. Slower. He made a sound that can only be described as a strangled baby seal.

Tim tries (and fails) to act cool whenever you wear his hoodie. You just pulled it over your head because you were cold and it was closest. No big deal.

To him it’s a marriage proposal. He’s staring like you’ve personally invented oxygen. “You look… that’s mine… you’re wearing… oh my god.”

When you’re tired or overstimulated you go very quiet and kind of blank-faced. Most people think you’re mad at them. Tim knows it’s just your battery at 3%. So he immediately starts damage control: dimming lights, handing you your favorite hoodie (his), putting your playlist on low volume, and sitting close enough that your knees touch but not crowding you.

You eventually lean your head on his shoulder without a word. He doesn’t say anything either. Just dies inside a little.

He once tried to give you a dramatic confession in the rain because he saw it in a movie and thought it would be romantic.

You stared at him getting progressively soggier, arms crossed, unimpressed.

“Tim. We’re five feet from the dorm entrance.”

“I know but... romance!”

You grabbed his wrist, dragged him inside, shoved a towel on his head and muttered “you’re so stupid, we've been dating for a year you didn't need to confess.” while drying his hair.

He was grinning like an idiot the entire time.

You call him “Timothy” when you’re teasing him. Just flat “Timothy” in that deadpan tone.

Every single time his soul leaves his body for a second and then he’s blushing so hard his ears look painful.

“Stop that.”

“Make me, Timothy.”

He’s gone. Done. Deceased.

He keeps trying to learn your exact coffee order even though you change it depending on your mood. He shows up with four different cups sometimes. “I got options. Just in case.” You pick one, take a sip, then wordlessly hand him the other three to carry.

When you’re both cramming for finals and you finally lean back, stretch, and say “I think I’m gonna die” in the flattest voice possible.

Tim drops everything. Literally drops his stylus. “No you’re not. You’re too pretty to die.”

You stare at him.

He realizes what he just said.

You just pat his cheek once and go back to typing.

[justrandomspams]

tim

"I'm fine."

[phosvye]

After a few sloppy kisses and several rounds of being bent over and fucked on every surface of the room in every position imaginable, with him whispering words of praise and longing, he still had the energy to fuck it all into you. At this point, you were spent, muttering nothing but unintelligible, half-formed sentences—pleading for him to stop, attempting to claw your way off of him as the overwhelming pleasure consumed you.

But alas, he dragged you back, impaling you onto him once more, making you even wetter than before and causing you to clench around him a little tighter. Moans and the sound of skin slapping against skin echoed so loudly against all four walls of the room that you both were sure you could be heard all the way down to the ground floor and the neighbouring buildings.

Both of your outfits lay discarded on the floor, either stepped on or stained with cum. Your pretty lace set was tossed somewhere in the room, along with his boxers. But of course, you were too fucked out to care. And it went on like that until the sun rose, and the two of you lay sprawled on the bed, faces glowing in the aftermath of sex. With you, curled against his side as his fingers traced lazy patterns on your arm. Head on top of his chest, eyes closed and breathless.

[dissolved-g1rl]

Tim Drake x Fem! Senstive! Gf reader…Senstive reader crying during and after sex🥺not cause she doesn’t like it, no, no, she loves it. Probably just a side effect of hormones.

side note: I LOVEEEE your Tim Drake blurbs. Keep up the good work!!💕

near & dear (っ˶ ˘ ᵕ˘)ˆᵕ ˆ˶ς)

Tim slides off of you, clammy, skin flushed, mussed hair. It’s a look that suits him, post fuck Tim is a satiated Tim. But he’s leaving… the gross stick of his body against yours is gone. Okay, it’s less dramatic than how you’re making it out, but still!

Tim, in reality is not abandoning you, he’s tossing the tied off condom and washing his hands, a carnal sin really. He comes back wearing his boxers and a shirt thats too big, probably one of his brothers, or maybe even Bruces’. Seeing you curled up on his bed, teary and sweet, a bit of a pout on your cute face. Now he feels kind of stupid twirling your panties around on his finger like an idiot.

“Baby? Shit—you okay?” Tim curls up around you instantly, pushing your hair back away from your face. He’s usually so good about aftercare. Did he take too long dressing? Washing his hands? Getting you a clean pair of panties?

“Hm? ‘M okay..” You practically purr, you can feel the tear rolling down your cheek, but the nice repetitive movement of him petting you distracts you.

“You’re crying… Tell me what’s wrong, lemme help.” Tim is sympathetic, wiping away the tear that’s past the apple of your cheek, his hand cupping the side of your face. “I just feel good, you were gone for so long…”

“In the bathroom? I was just getting you underwear. So you didn’t catch a chill…down there.” Tim remembers the little wad of cotton that had been abandoned, grabbing it once more and dressing you like you’re a doll. If that were the case he’d be the #1 collector.

“No! You were gone with Bruce for so long… ‘n then you came back… I didn’t realize how much I missed you.”

Tim wants to wrap you up and eat you, you already look lovely enough lying in his bed, a little sweaty and only dressed in plain little panties, but god— the apple of his eye admitting to missing him, he can’t handle it.

“You’re such a sweetie.” He squeezes you tight, enough to cease your sniffles, Tim peppers kisses on your cheek, and the faint hickey he left on your jaw. Maybe he got a little carried away with the earlier foreplay, sue him, he missed you too. “I missed you too, don’t hafta cry about it, thought I did something wrong.”

“Sorry.” You hiccup and he just continues to wipe your tears, being gentle so he doesn’t irritate the sensitive skin around your eyes. “Don’t be sorry, you’re coming down still, it was a lot after so long apart hm? Should’ve been gentler with you.” Tim pulls the shirt off his back and helps you into it, using his hand to fan you a bit, uncapping the bottled water from his nightstand and tipping it towards your mouth. “Small sips..” He murmurs, treating you like a delicate flower. It’s not how he usually treats you, on the regular you’re much sturdier, but you’ve been fucked within an inch of your life, a stark reminder that yes Tim’s fingers are longer and thicker, that the feeling of his mouth against your skin is warm and soft, the sting of being stretched. It was all so lovely.

“I’m okay, promise. Are you okay?” The satisfaction in your tone makes Tim worry less, the sting from the scratches on his back sets in, and there’s a pleasant ache in his thighs. “I’m okay, can I get another shirt?”

“Mhm, yeah.”

Tim kisses your forehead and heads to his dresser, getting another shirt that seems to just fall off his shoulder, coming back into bed. “Can we stay like this for a bit longer?” You ask as he settles back around you. “Yeah, you wanna do a little lunch after?” Tim’s leg goes in between yours, offering his arm for you to lie on, you accept and nod in agreement to lunch. You guys stay like that for a while, till his arm is reduced to pins and needles. The things he does for you.

dividers by @andromeda-graphics