#Tim Drake Fluff | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thenyoumightaswellwrestleangels · 2 days

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I've let this wolf into my home (I feed it even when it bites)

Blood nose and a crooked tongue (I always wanted to be someone) - series masterlist here

pairing: tim drake x reader (gender neutral)

length: 1.5k

genre: fluff ??

warnings: you don't know red robin and timmy are the same person but he sure knows you, he's also so so awkward but he can't help it

a/n: alright alright alright here we go <3

The jingle of the coffee shop door opening startles you, your head snapping up from where you're sitting, slouched over in the corner. It's a 24-hour shop, yes, but who else would really be here at 3am? The barista behind the counter looks just as surprised, blinking rapidly and looking at the person who came in.

You, on the other hand, opt not to, sighing and looking back down at your table, instead. The coffee in your to-go cup is still hot, burning your fingers as you shift them over the label. It's bright, a cartoonish sort of thing that grins up at you like an old friend you should be happier to see. You've been getting this coffee for years. You're never quite as happy as you should be.

The chair opposite you makes a horrible sort of sound as it's pulled out and you look up to see who's sitting across from you. You purse your lips in annoyance while he just looks at you.

"All the other tables have just been cleaned. They're wet," he points out. You let your eyes flit around the cafe, the tabletops shining wetly in the dull glow of the lights, the disinfectant bottle still sitting abandoned on one of them.

"Lucky me," you bite back, taking a sip of your coffee. It's sweet - too sweet, but not enough to cover the bitterness of the burnt grounds. You always think that if you pile enough sugar into it, it'll mask what's wrong. You're never right.

The man sitting opposite you takes a sip of his own - he left it black, you notice. He grimaces slightly at the taste, but keeps drinking anyway. There's no effort there to pretend it's anything other than what it is - burnt, cheap coffee sold to him in a cafe full of ghosts, in a city that should be sleeping but never really does. It's interesting, you think, as you look out the window and into the dark street. You'd almost managed to convince yourself that you were really alone - that there was no one else in this world except you, until he walked in and broke the reverie of your 3am silence.

For what it's worth, Tim regretted it as soon as he'd walked in. He hadn't meant to stay, really - ending up in a part of Gotham he didn't often find himself in, in his civvies and in desperate need of a hot cup of coffee and a long sleep, he'd stumbled across the flickering, neon sign of a 24-hour coffee shop.

What good luck, he'd thought. Now, sitting across from you, there's a desperate little part of him that thinks maybe it wasn't just that - maybe it was intuition that drew him here. You don't know who he is, of course, all your previous meetings happening in the shadows of your home with his face hidden from you. Tim shifts in his seat, suddenly aware of how naked he feels, exposed to your wandering eyes.

And you do let your eyes wander, narrowing them suspiciously as you take him in. Tim feels a pang of guilt that surprises him when he thinks that this is probably how you've always felt with him - like a lamb with a wolf at your door. As you lean back in your chair, swirling your coffee and letting your gaze trail away from him and towards the window, he feels his shoulders drop in relief. He's not the only wolf in your living room late at night, he realizes. You've got teeth of your own that he'd just never noticed.

You're good at this, Tim thinks with a start - you've got a foot propped up on the window sill next to you, your head resting in your hand as you watch the street outside idly. Or, at least, it's supposed to look like that. He thinks that if he were anyone normal, he would believe it. But Tim has spent enough time as prey to know when someone's pretending to let their guard down.

He looks away from you almost forcefully, staring down at his cup and running his tongue over his teeth as he thinks of the burnt taste of it. He wonders if you were smart enough to put sugar in yours - wise enough to bury the bitterness with something nicer. It's something he always thinks he should do. He can never quite make himself.

"I'm sure those other tables are dry now." Your voice makes him flinch, a hard, forceful thing that cuts through the silence of the night that's blanketed the two of you. Tim looks around at the dull, streaky tabletops and shrugs.

"I'm already comfortable here," he offers. You cock your head to the side and look at him, but make no move to fight him on it. He thinks it's probably stupid of him, inviting a lion into his home like this. He wonders if you feel the same way every time he slides in through your balcony door.

There's a silence that, once more, overtakes the two of you as he shifts in his seat. Tim wonders if he should drink faster, if he should pretend to be finished so that he can leave. It's funny, he thinks, how he finally felt like he'd stopped running away when he started running into you. It's funny that, now, he's itching for it, his hands gripping his cup in an attempt to still his heart - his need to escape.

You look back at him just in time to see him squeeze a little too hard, the cheap plastic lid popping off and hot coffee sloshing a bit over his hands. A mild, bemused sort of look crosses your face as you watch him curse and splutter as the coffee burns his hands and spills onto the table. Then, without a word, you stand up and begin to walk away.

Tim, in the meantime, is rubbing his hands against his jeans, his eyes squeezed shut in mortification as he wonders how he ruined it all so quickly. Not for the first time, he wishes he was in the mask - thinks maybe the only way to hold onto you is to make sure that's all you ever see. But then your cup scrapes across the table and he opens his eyes to see you sitting opposite him again, sipping idly and watching. There's a stack of napkins that he swore wasn't there before and - oh.

"Thanks," is all he can make himself say as he grabs them, cleaning up the mess he's made. As he goes to pop the lid back onto his cup, he looks at the dark liquid inside and grimaces, deciding that maybe it's not worth it.

"It's shit coffee," you say, and he slams his hand against the table, crushing the plastic lid in the process. Truly, he's not sure if he's ever acted this nervous before. You pay it no mind. He thinks maybe he could take off his mask, just this once, and reaches up to his face in time to remember that he's already exposed to you. "You're better off finding something else… or just going somewhere else." Tim smiles, then, a charming sort of thing that has you narrowing your eyes.

"I dunno,' he says. "There's something I like about right here." You glance down at your own cup, at the label that you've picked and peeled off until it's unrecognizable, the colours torn and cracked.

"There's nothing good about right here. And things like that don't change." Tim looks at you for a long moment after you speak, letting the words tumble around his head before he stands, taking his cup and squished lid and pile of wet napkins with him.

"Well, I've never been big on change, anyway," is all he says as he walks away, dumping everything in the bin and letting the bell on the door jingle as he walks out. Looking back down to the table, you notice the card he's left behind - the Wayne Ent. logo flashing behind his name. Flipping it over, his number's been written in a hasty scrawl.

As you thumb a corner of the card, you wonder when he'd slipped it onto the table - when he'd written on it. Mostly, you wonder what kind of person he'd have to be to do it without you noticing. You trace the numbers with your finger and think that something, far in the back of your mind, is telling you that there's a familiarity about it all.

But what's familiar about seeing someone in a place where you never should? What's normal about that man, appearing like a ghost in the night and disappearing just as fast? As you pull out your phone to add his number to your contacts, there's a part of you that thinks maybe you should run away - that maybe you're not the only thing stalking the streets of Gotham this late.

#smsn.writes #tim drake #tim drake x reader #tim drake x you #tim drake x y/n #tim drake fluff #tim drake imagine #tim drake fanfiction #tim drake fic #red robin #red robin x reader #red robin x you #red robin x y/n #red robin imagine #red robin fluff #red robin tim drake #tim drake wayne

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saylorsaysstop · 3 months

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How They Kiss | Bat Boys

The hottest question on the radar right now is how do these men kiss?

↪ Likes, reblogs, and comments are always welcome! ⭐️

↪ My Masterlist

BRUCE WAYNE 🖤

The kisses that the crime-fighting playboy billionaire may potentially deliver are all based on his mood. If he's getting home late from saving Gotham, they're quick pecks on the mouth because typically you're in bed asleep. He'll glide his lips across your forehead, breathe in your scent that somehow is melatonin in human form, and he'll start getting ready for bed.

If he's out at events for Wayne Enterprises, such as the annual charity gala hosted in his late parent's name, he kisses you with passion. Deep strokes of his tongue when nobody is looking, a hand pressed to your waist. He kisses you like you're his most prized possession and he can't get enough of his lips on yours.

When sex is involved? Bruce is carnal. His tongue lavishes yours. Worships your mouth with his. Loves to tease your bottom lip and kiss you so deeply, that you can feel him on your mouth even when the night is over. Bruce is thorough with his kissing just like he is with everything else in his life.

DICK GRAYSON 💙

Dick loves a good smooch. He kisses gently in the mornings when you first wake up. He'll show up randomly at your work with flowers in hand and steal a couple of kisses, maybe even end up in the supply closet where the heat really cranks up.

Before he leaves for patrol, Dick doesn't believe in a goodbye kiss. He likes to call them 'see you later' kisses and those linger for longer than either of you anticipated. He strokes your cheek as his lips mold to yours. He tastes every inch of your mouth and licks away the hunger inch by inch as his tongue explores your mouth. You palm his perfect butt (that he's so eager for you to touch. He knows he's got a great set of glutes) and he caresses your hips.

Dick kisses deeply when he gets home from patrol. Albeit tired, his nerves skyrocket with serotonin when he arrives home and finds you waiting up for him. Once he's stripped of his suit and he's colliding with you in between the sheets, he bruises your mouth from how hard he kisses, his teeth teasing your bottom lip while he explores your body with his hands.

JASON TODD ❤️

Jason loves deep, languid strokes of his tongue across yours. When he has a light stubble on his chin, he loves the way you scratch his cheeks with your nails as you two kiss. His favorite kissing position is hands down you straddling his lap.

He kisses with precision. It's like every inch of your mouth that he touches, he sparks something new inside of you. Jason loves to battle for dominance with his tongue, where ultimately he wins. Says if your kiss was alcohol, he'd get drunk off you every single night.

Jason can't go to sleep without kissing you. He wants his hands on your body while his lips mold to every shape of you. Starts at your ankles, kisses up your calves, he'll kiss your belly and chest. Travels up your throat, light pecks to your face. He'll end with his mouth on yours where his entire weight will sink down on top of you and he's left making out with you until both of you are undressed and panting.

TIM DRAKE ☕️

He is the softest kisser of them all. Tim Drake never leaves without some form of lip balm in his pocket. Loves to have them soft and ready for when he can get a kiss from you. Tim loves to hold your face in his hands while he kisses you, stroking your tongue slowly with his. Needs you as close as humanly possible when his lips are on yours.

Tim needs to be kissed by you before every patrol. He can't function without some form of lip lock whether it's a peck or a full-on makeout session. It gives him a boost that even the strongest caffeine can't provide him with. You're his form of therapy and a drug he likes to say.

Kissing you involves a lot of hands-on movement. Tim loves to grip your hips in his hands and pull you flush to his chest. Loves to slant his mouth over yours and really gets off on feeling your breath on his lips just before you two seal your mouths together.

#dick grayson fluff #dick grayson #nightwing #dick grayson x reader #tim drake x reader #tim drake fluff #red robin fluff #jason todd fluff #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #batman x reader #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne

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fluffy-anna · 5 days

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Tim Drake aka Red Robin wallpaper

I relate to tim in ways I have not related to religion

As the poll results asked, here we go

My favorite cynic and bi disaster and the epitome of sleep deprived middle child

@arrowheadedbitch

Here you go 🩷🩷🩷

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staaryminnie · 2 months

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Types of kisses~ Batboys

Genre: fluff

Warnings: Jason's is more on the suggestive rather than fluff :P

Dick Grayson

Sweet & playful, his hand placement is everything. His lips would be on yours as his hands tickle the sides of your hip; traveling up your torso. Loves it when you giggle in between kisses it makes him feel warm and fuzzy all over. Dick is the type to brush the tip of his nose on yours and giving you the most cheeky smile before stealing another kiss from you. He starts peppering your face and neck with soft warm kisses <3

Jason Todd

Hot & Needy, whether it be on the couch, bed, kitchen counter or Bruce's mansion jason doesn't hold back when kissing. Loves having you on his lap while kissing you. He bites and tugs on you lip, he tilts you by your chin a little bit to deepen the kiss while your hands frantically run up his hair. He enjoys your soft whimpers, it makes him tighten his grip on your thighs. Jason burries his face in the crook of your neck taking in your scent before kissing your neck and collar bone making sure to leave his love bites

Tim Drake

Gentle & Slow, treats you with so much care. His eyes glancing at your lips, before he knows his fingers instinctively trace your soft lips earning a smile from you. Tim tucks a strand of hair behind your ear while placing his lips on yours. Without much thought you wrap your arms around his neck pulling him closer. His lips perfectly mold into yours. You can feel his love and passion but nonetheless he's composed and gentle with you

#batman #nightwing #red hood #nightwing fluff #dick grayson fluff #dick grayson #red hood fluff #jason todd fluff #jason todd #tim drake #tim drake fluff #nightwing smut #red hood smut #tim drake smut #dick grayson smut #jason todd smut #batboys

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ravenna-reid · 21 days

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devotion

Timmy x Reader because I am currently going through Tim Drake brain rot

⊹✧⊹

"Tim?" His name rang through the comm like it was a warning.

"Yeah Nightwing?"

"I think you should come back to the cave. It's kinda urgent."

Tim's footsteps stilled. "What do you mean?"

Dick let out a long sigh. "It's y/n."

In that instant, it was as though someone had replaced Tim's bones with lead. He felt it weigh him down as anxiety began to pulse in his chest.

"What do you mean Dick? What happened?"

Tim already had his cellphone in his hand, but there were no missed calls or messages from you. He knew you had gone out on patrol tonight; Bruce had put you with Dick and Cass, whilst he was forced to go with the bat himself.

Prior to going on patrol, you had given Tim sweet reassurances, and as much as he hated being separated from you, he reluctantly agreed.

His finger had instinctively hooked around your pinkie. "Remember the knuckle busters I gave you." He'd said.

And you had smiled. "Of course."

Now Tim was torturing himself thinking about all of the possible things that could have happened to you on patrol.

"I don't know Tim," Dick continued, "But something happened tonight and she won't talk about it. She's gone mute."

"You better hurry up and get back replacement." Jason chimed in, the sound of the thugs he was beating hitting the ground in the background.

"Shut up Jason." Tim snapped.

Ripping his comm out, he looked over at Bruce, assuming he heard it all. Bruce could tell Tim wasn't going to take no for an answer.

"Go."

⊹✧⊹

Tim basically tore through the cave in search of you, his bo staff and mask disregarded on the ground. He immediately saw Cass sitting on the med bed and Dick standing beside her, arms crossed, and headed for them.

"Where is she?" He asked, voice eager and breathy like he'd just sprinted all the way back to the manor.

Cass glanced over at Dick, and Tim didn't miss the sorrowful look on her face.

"She's upstairs in your room-"

"What happened?" He cut Dick off.

The two exchanged glances, then Cass eyes averted to the floor and Dick's eyes went back to Tim. "The mission was going fine. Y/n was fine. Her usual self; strong, determined, hell she was taking out most of the guys herself." Dick shrugged and ran a hand through his hair. "Then we got separated for a few minutes-"

"What do you mean you got separated?" Tim asked, tone stern and accusatory.

Dick continued on with the story. "Cass and I couldn't find her and when we finally did, she was like a ghost..."

Tim's face was going red with anger and his expression read blame, until Cass grabbed his arm. His eyes shot over to hers. Cass raised her hand and pointed upstairs, and with the nod of his head, Tim agreed and left them without another word.

⊹✧⊹

Tim wanted to practically walk through the door to his room, but instead, he gently opened it so he wouldn't startle you. He had no idea what condition you were in, and that made it agonising. So preparing himself for the worst, he quietly crept through the door.

The room was dark, the only source of light coming from his ensuite light. "Y/n?"

As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he finally looked over to the windows, and there on the window seat sat you. Staring up at the full moon. A relieved sigh fell from his lips. "Y/n."

You turned to look at him and got to your feet as he quickly rushed over to you.

"Tim." Those were the first words you had spoken in almost two hours.

Tim's hands traced down your arms, seeking any sign of injury, before his eyes skimmed over your torso and neck. Then his hands moved to cradle your face, his gaze searching your eyes for any hint of conflict or pain.

"Y/n, where are you hurt? Are you alright?"

As stupid as it was, shame began creeping up on you. "I'm ok Tim, I promise." You grabbed hold of his hands and pulled them away from your face. "Dick contacted you, didn't he?" You faked a smile.

Your not so subtle action caught Tim completely off guard as he stared back at you. It was hard to read you in the dark with only the moon and distant light aiding him, but that didn't stop him from trying.

"Yeah, y/n are you sure you're ok?"

You took a small step back. "Yeah, I promise it was nothing. I'm fine." You tried hard to mask everything with that smile of yours, but it made Tim even more uneasy. He'd thought something physically happened to you. That you were injured. Bruised and bleeding. But now he knew the hurt you were experiencing was running a lot deeper.

You took a sharp breath in. "How was patrol?"

Your voice wavered, and that coil of anxiety was beginning in Tim's chest all over again.

"Y/n..." His finger hooked your pinkie, a small habit of his. He took a step forward to close the space between you, and with the window seat behind you, you had nowhere to go. "Come on, what happened during patrol?"

You let out a deep breath, your head swimming with thoughts. "It's just, I don't know. We ended up getting separated tonight...and when I ..."

No. You instantly cut yourself short and berated yourself. A habit you had developed over the years whenever you were about to talk about how you felt. A fearful expression painted your face and it pained Tim to see it.

"Honestly, it was nothing, I swear." You waved your hand through the air. "This stuff happens on patrol Tim. We've all been through it." You shrugged, trying to brush it off. But your eyes were wide and alert and you were oh so slightly trembling.

Tim rested his hands on your elbows now, tilting his head to catch your gaze as you turned your head from him. "Y/n, something reminded you of the incident tonight, didn't it?" He asked, voice so low and understanding. His thumb stroking your arm.

You bit your lip. "Yeah, but it's fine. The past is the past." You were trying awfully hard to avoid eye contact. "I can handle it, you know."

"It's not about that y/n." Tim's hands cupped your face and now you were forced to look at him.

Usually, you would cut and run. Always at the first sign of something becoming deeper. The first sign that told you someone was getting too close and they knew too much about you. The first sign of physical contact.

And yet...and yet. You could drown it all out with Tim.

"You don't have to be tough all the time. Stoic. Unbreakable. Not with me y/n." His strokes were delicate against the skin of your face. You silently nodded, taking his words in. Tim leant in and placed a long, tender kiss on your cheek. You closed your eyes, never knowing how to act when you received such affection.

Then you subconsciously leant into his touch and Tim was more than happy to pull you closer to him. Especially given it was something you rarely did. Now with your arms around his neck and his around your waist, he moved so that his lips were near your ear as he whispered, "You don't have to tell me what happened. Just let me take care of you y/n. I swear, you'll always be ok."

#tim drake x reader #tim drake #tim drake x you #tim drake robin #tim drake imagine #tim drake fanfiction #tim drake fluff #red robin #red robin x reader #dca fandom #dcu #dc comics #dc universe #fluff

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froggyfics · 8 months

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Muffins

You and Tim ruin muffins for Jason and Dick.

Ummm, I’m not sure how we got here. I was requested to make a super fluffy piece, but it just turned sideways. I don’t even know why it turned out the way it did.

Sorry if y’all are squeamish about spit, I’m just disgusting

This is literally the first smut piece I've done, it's not full smut, but still, let me know how I did!

Sorry to the anon that requested a fluff piece. I really don’t know where it went wrong. Please blame my parents for my repressed childhood.

Feedback is always appreciated. Feel free to message me privately or comment below to let me know what you think. Constructive criticism is always welcome!

Pairing: Tim Drake x gn!reader

Theme: Fluff, Implied Smut

Warning: Spit Kink

Word Count: 1,026

You gaze excitedly upon the remaining muffin, with your salivary glands kicking into overdrive as you inhale the dessert’s scent.

Your tongue hangs out slightly in preparation for muffin to enter your mouth. It’s a big muffin, and it’ll be a tight fit, but you’re sure you can manage.

The pads of your fingers are ready to pick up the muffin when, unexpectedly, another pair of hands enter the frame.

It occurs almost in slow motion. Tim’s nimble fingers grasp the sides of the dessert, removing the liner and tossing it in an unknown direction. He purposely holds your gaze, aware that you are watching his every move in utter shock. He grins widely, knowing that he’ll be punished for his actions, but nonetheless, believes that your reaction would be worth the trouble.

“Don’t do it,” you warn.

“Watch me.”

He opens his mouth widely, stretching his face to the maximum. He stuffs the muffin into his mouth carefully. Tim doesn’t want to actually eat the muffin. Oh no, he wants to simply bask in the experience of bothering you. Because nothing makes Tim happier than when he’s on your mind, even if it’s at the expense of your peace of mind.

The muffin completes its journey to Tim’s mouth. His lips struggle to close completely, as his mouth is at its maximum capacity.

The look on your face is worth the painful stretch of his jaw. He wants to smile, but he knows he’ll choke if he does. It’s now time for phase two.

He reaches into his mouth and grabs the base of the muffin. He cautiously pulls it out, one centimeter at a time. You watch in disgust as Tim pulls the muffin out his mouth, still fully intact, and places it proudly back on the plate it was originally on.

There’re a few seconds of silence before laughter cuts through the air. Your eyes shoot daggers at Jason and Dick, who are sitting at the kitchen table as well. Jason clutches his stomach and Dick covers his face with his hands, both shaking uncontrollably with laugher. You turn to face Tim, who sports a toothy grin. He knows what your reaction will be. You know he’s just doing this to get a rise out of you. You know this, but you can’t help yourself.

You shudder involuntarily. “That was so foul,” you start. You look over at your traumatized muffin. There’s an extra shine on the dessert that wasn’t there before. You realize it’s Tim’s spit that made its way from his mouth and settled into its pores.

“You’re disgusting,” you add.

Tim has now joined in on the laughter. It’s the type of laughter that’s so boisterous that through his shirt, you can see his stomach contort as the sound travels out of his body. It’s an infectious laugh that you realize you never want to be immune to.

Your mouth quivers as you try your best not laugh, too. This is serious! He messed with your muffin! And it’s the last one, so it’s not like you can just grab another!

“I-I-I can’t even eat this!” you sputter. “Your saliva is all over it!”

Tim’s laughter doesn’t slowly die down, but instead, it abruptly ends. It shocks you at just how quickly the mood changes. He quirks his head to the side, looking deep into your eyes. Tim blankly stares at you and approaches. He’s no longer looking at your eyes, as his gaze lowers to your mouth. His fingers graze your lips, and you hold your breath. There’s something electric in the air suddenly. The atmosphere has shifted from lively to…sensual. You’re unsure of what’s about to happen next. You can’t even continue with your rant, and you simply gaze at him in anticipation.

“My saliva is all over your muffin?” he mocks. He no longer has a childish smile on his face, but sports a devious smirk instead.

You’re unsure of how to reply. All you can do is nod slightly, your eyes round with excitement, wondering what Tim will say next.

One hand remains on your lips and the other slides up and down your arm. The motion would be comforting during any another moment. In this moment though, the action is anything but comforting. Instead, it lights a fire within your core.

“You’ve literally begged me to spit in your mouth before,” he emphasizes. “A little saliva won’t hurt you one bit.”

The laughter from Jason and Dick immediately ceases and is replaced by disgusted groans. You can see from the corner of your eye that Dick is pretending to vomit and Jason’s face contorts in revulsion.

Tim’s raunchy admission makes you blush furiously, but it also leaves your toes curling. Redness now tints your neck, face, and ears. Your craving for dessert quickly dissipates and now you have a different sort of hunger.

“I didn’t need to hear that,” Jason laments.

“Yeah, thanks guys. You’ve ruined muffins for me,” Dick adds.

You don’t even hear what Jason and Dick continue to complain about. Tim is all that crowds your mind. He’s still got that devious smirk on his face. You stare right back at him as you make your next move.

You grab the muffin without breaking eye contact. He’s so focused on you and his attentiveness makes you all the more tense. You break it in half and slip your portion into your mouth. Its sweetness immediately hits your tongue, and you just have to close your eyes at how good it tastes.

You open your eyes after you’ve swallowed, and notice that Tim’s still looking at you with passion, love, and lust in his eyes. You lean in closer to him and hold up the remaining portion to his lips. He opens his mouth and you take the opportunity to slip his half of the muffin in. When he begins to chew it, you whisper. You whisper low enough to where Jason and Dick can’t hear what you’re saying. This conversation is between you and Tim only.

“The muffin was good, but I think I need something else to wash it down with.”

#dc comics #tim drake x gn!reader #tim drake x you #tim drake x reader #tim drake fluff #tim drake x y/n #tim drake smut #red robin x y/n #red robin fluff #red robin x you #red robin x reader #red robin x gn!reader #red robin smut

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nightwolf14292 · 18 days

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#They had a rough night :(#Damian: Tell anyone about this and I'll remove your head from your body.#Damian wayne #Robin #Red robin #Tim drake #Tim and damian #Batfam #Batfamily #Red robin fanart #Damian wayne fanart #Damian wayne angst #Red robin angst #Tim drake angst #Fluff #Fluff art #Damian Wayne fluff #Tim drake fluff #Red robin fluff

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lynnhf · 3 months

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Squishing and Kissing Bat Boys Cheeks

@Batsyforyou gave these (Dick and Damien headcanon ideas, bare-boned) to me and I expanded on them and put in my ideas as well.

Squishing and Kissing Bruce Wayne’s Cheeks (Plantonic):

You don’t dare.

You do NOT.

You chose life, thanks.

I don’t see this happening at ALL.

Unless of course, he is at his lowest.

I see this happening when he is in his Bat suit without the cowl sitting slumped in his chair in front of the bat computer.

He is feeling defeated and you feel like you need to cheer him up.

But instead of an invigorating talk, you cup his cheeks, squish them, and plant kisses over his face while cooing over him.

This behavior is so sudden and out of place to him, that it shocks him out of his depressed mood.

You pull away from him. “Better?” Silence.

You don’t speak of this again.

Worth it? …Maybe not.

Squishing and Kissing Damian Al-Ghul Wayne’s Cheeks (Platonic):

Acts like he hates it but secretly likes it.

As his older sister/friend, you believe that it’s your duty to love on him.

Your definition of loving on him just happens to include embarrassing cooing, cheek squishing, and kissing.

Damien would smack your hands away, blushing red saying, “Don’t touch me, peasant.”

However, this does not deter you, you instead do it more.

Jason and Tim tease him but are secretly Jealous.

To counteract this behavior, you do to them what you do to Damien.

Damien then gets to make fun of them in turn.

Worth it? Kinda, yeah.

Squishing and Kissing Jason Todd’s Cheeks:

His reaction is… strange.

He doesn’t know what to do with these feelings and this touch.

He just freezes up.

He just blinks… then pushes you away roughly.

He doesn’t mean to hurt your feelings, he just… doesn’t do... that.

But after a while, when you don’t spring it on him, he’ll learn to like it.

Maybe even smile a bit.

And after a while of being in a relationship, he’ll respond more energetically. Wide smile, teasing manner, and lifting you up for a tight hug.

Worth it? …Yes.

Squishing and Kissing Richard John Grayson “Dick” cheeks:

Dick would love the attention.

Starved for touch that is not simply being beaten up by bad guys.

I could see his girlfriend doing this when Dick comes home to their shared apartment.

Since he works as a police officer in Bludhaven, I can only imagine the stress he goes through when you add it to vigilante work.

So being welcomed home by his loving girlfriend makes it all better.

He walks through the door, his girlfriend walks over to him and there you go.

She gently grabs his cheeks, squishes them gently and plants kisses all over his face.

This brings a smile to his face. His entire face lights up and practically most of the stress leaves his shoulders. Not all of it, but most.

In either case, Dick feels loved and cared for.

Dick leans down to make things easier on her to, his hands either on her hips, or hugging her waist.

So worth it.

Squishing and Kissing Timothy Drake’s “Tim” Cheeks:

In his tired, sleepless state, you’d just get a sleepy, sloppy smile.

This boy needs sleep.

So you’d use this to lure him to bed to sleep.

Or to take away his 12th coffee cup to give him water instead.

Or make him sleepy enough to fall asleep. An unexpected side effect the first time you did it.

It melts your heart to see that sleepy smile, so you keep doing it.

So what if you turn it into a weapon?

Worth it? Oh yeah.

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kayadrake123 · 2 years

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Random Tim Drake relationship headcanons

Tim Drake x GN!Reader

Tim definitely plays guitar, electric guitar to be exact. He owns at least 3, but his favourite is a light blue one that was gifted to him by Bruce as a welcome gift after his adoption.

He likes to play you songs while you’re both on a break from work and just chilling out in his room. Sometimes you fall asleep to his playing, which causes him to resort to playing his guitar whenever he can see you’re having trouble falling asleep.

You sometimes ask him to learn specific songs just so you can hear what he sounds like playing them. And as he is in everything he does, he plays it fucking perfectly.

Tim isn’t a big reader. He actually despises reading cause he just can’t force himself to get through the first few pages. All the words end up giving him a headache (mainly because he never wears his glasses but we’ll get to that later)

He does however enjoy hearing you speak about the books you read if you’re a reader. He also really enjoys listening to you read to him, as your voice soothes him and he thinks it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard.

Most times when you read to him, he lays on your stomach with his eyes closed as you brush your hand through his hair, your legs tangled together.

Tim is obsessed with his s/o’s voice. He loves when you say his name and the way you say certain words (especially if you have an accent). He thinks it’s the most angelic thing ever known to man. You have the ability to calm him down by just opening your mouth and letting him hear your beautiful voice (that and he’d rather drop dead than not do what his s/o tells him).

TIM DRAKE WEARS GLASSES. There I said it. He doesn’t need to wear it all the time, but he especially needs them when he needs to read. All the late nights in the dark staring at a computer screen really does take a toll on your eyesight. He looks goddamn adorable in his glasses (and fucking hot ;) ) If you wear glasses, he thinks it makes you ten times hotter :))

Tim can be fucking cold. Man is calm and friendly (not overly cause he’s emo) and really down to earth most of the time, but when someone really pisses him off, oooooh boy.

He’s the type of person who doesn’t need to raise his voice to hurt you, his words cut deep enough bro. Like he’s really sarcastic half of the time, but in a fight his sarcasm is intensified with the intent of making you hurt badddd bro. He doesn’t mean to do it, it just happens in the heat of the moment.

He also tends to distance himself when he’s beyond pissed off with you, like he doesn’t trust himself around you not to say really hurtful things. It isn’t the case with everyone else, but he eventually allows you to try and get him to talk to you again. With his friends and family he snaps at them for trying, but again, you bring out a calmness in him.

Tim will only ever drink black coffee.

Man is super touchy. Like at the beginning of your relationship he wasn’t as affectionate due to him having a lack of physical affection in his life from his parents, but the more he became comfortable with you, the more his hands began to roam ;)

He prefers physical touch over words of affirmation for himself as he has a hard time speaking about his feelings. When he does say words of affirmation, it’s completely random but makes you melt all the same.

He likes taking pictures of you like a mom does with their kids. He can’t help it, he just thinks you’re fucking beautiful and amazing and wow.

His whole family loves you, but you’re closest to Cass, Steph and Duke. They just really enjoy your company and often try to steal you away from Tim, which annoys him.

His nicknames from you consist of “Timmy”, “Duckie”, “Birdy” and loads more

He loves to call you nicknames that have a link to a funny or cute experience he’s had with you. People always find it so cute when you explain it to them.

He’s so soft with you. His touch, the way he looks at you and speaks to you. He’s so delicate when it comes to you and he’s so in love.

#tim drake #batfam x reader #tim drake x reader #tim drake x you #tik drake angst #Tim Drake fluff #cassandra cain #stephanie brown #duke thomas #dc comics #batman #jason todd x reader #dick grayson x reader #bruce wayne x reader

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strange-birb · 7 months

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I had too… I just had too

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thenyoumightaswellwrestleangels · 1 month

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This devotion of yours is misplaced (but this love, perhaps, is not)

Blood nose and a crooked tongue (I always wanted to be someone) - series masterlist here

pairing: tim drake x reader (gender neutral)

length: 1.4k

genre: fluff, hurt/comfort

warnings: reader is like vaguely injured, timmy is so in love and sooo crazy abt it, they sorta both are, idk this one's kinda intense guys there's a lot of love in it kinda felt like I was intruding when I wrote it

a/n: I'm so sorry but we're fast-forwarding to established relationship but I promise I'll get back to the pining of the past I just have the intense need to jump around timelines like a rabbit

There's a bulb in the light fixture above your bathroom sink that flickers, the yellow light hazing in and out while the others shine bright. You sit on the counter, leaning your back against your mirror as you cup a hand to your ribs protectively, watching Tim with hooded, lazy eyes. There's a set to his jaw, the muscles clenching as he moves around, pulling your first-aid kit out from under your sink.

You think back to the day he realized you didn't have one, his eyes wide as he spluttered out something about you needing one because what if you get hurt? You'd shot back that you'd always managed without one. He'd accused you of suffering for the sake of it - forsaking softness for the show of it.

That had cut a bit too deep. He didn't apologize, but you didn't ask him to. The next morning, there was a first-aid kit sitting on your bathroom counter.

Tim's hands ghosting over your sides pulls you from the memory as you suck in a sharp breath. He winces apologetically and hooks a forefinger under your chin, tilting your head to wipe a disinfectant wipe over the cut on your cheek.

"You need to relax," you huff quietly. He shoots you a look.

"I don't like seeing you hurt."

"Then go somewhere else," you shoot back. You feel something that reminds you of a concussion you once had hazing through your mind - maybe if you hadn't, you'd have noticed the way he pulls back from you. You would've kept your mouth shut.

"You know that's not what I mean." There's a strain in Tim's voice that he only gets when he's trying to be good to you - when you're not letting him.

"I never know what you mean," you respond, and there's a tiredness in your voice that shouldn't be there. Tim's shoulders drop, his stance shifting as he looks at you. He's trying, you realize, to let himself be read. But acts of love like that are so often impossible for things like you and him.

"I would rather…" he begins slowly, eyes flitting around while he searches for the words. "I would rather, if you're hurting, that you do it right here where I can help you. I don't want you to do it alone."

"This is part of the job - and I did it alone for a long time," you point out. He fixes you with a frustrated stare.

"But you don't have to now. I'm here now," he insists.

"Are you?" Tim huffs through his nose, fixing a butterfly strip over the cut on your cheek.

"If you'll let me," he says. There's a gentleness there that you're not sure you deserve.

"I don't know if I can." A warble cuts through your voice in a way that makes you bite the inside of your cheek. Tim smoothes his hands up your thighs, parting your legs so that he can stand closer to you between them. His thumbs dig into your muscles gently, rubbing circles into your skin.

"Explain that to me," he prompts. You sigh and tilt your head back to lean it against the mirror, eyeing him through your lashes.

"I don't think I'm any good at being helped," you say simply before leaning forward enough to cup his cheek in your hand, smoothing the furrow between his brows out with your thumb. "And I'm not sure you're any good at helping. You're going to give yourself a headache."

"It's worth it," Tim says, but his response is too quick, a jumbled rush of breath leaving his lungs. You fix him with a knowing, warning sort of look as his devotion to you rings through you and thumps against your heart.

"Careful," you warn, but the hand you use to grip the back of his neck and bring him closer to you betrays you. "You can't lose yourself in this, Red. You can't love me enough that it makes you whole." His fingers tense on your thighs, pressing in, but he lets you pull him closer.

"No calling me that when I'm not wearing the mask," he murmurs, a shoddy sort of diversion. A smile twitches on your lips.

"But you are red," you say, smoothing your thumbs over the blushing apples of his cheeks. "Right here. And there's no one here to hear me… no one but you." Tim gives you a pained sort of look, his shoulders bunching in embarrassment, but you throw him a lazy smile and lean forward to place a quick kiss to his lips. He doesn't miss your wince when you do.

"Let me see your side," he asks gently.

"Nothing's broken," you respond quickly. He shoots you a look and reaches anyway, pulling your shirt up to reveal mottled purple and blue bruising over your ribs. A gentle hand is placed over it as he murmurs for you to breathe deeply. You try to, but the softness of it all is making you dizzy, making your chest ache for an entirely different reason.

"I don't think anything's broken," Tim assures as he pulls your shirt back down, his hands then finding their home on your waist.

"I told you that," you remind him dryly. There's a stubborn set to his jaw.

"I wanted to check."

"You need to have faith in me."

"Do you have faith in me?" He doesn't say it like an accusation, but you pull back like it is. He looks at you hard, the light flickering over his face and the furrow of his brows. It's a determination that you should be used to by now - one that's born of a desperate devotion to you, a need to get on his knees and pray.

You think he might do it now, just for a second, as he tenses to pull away from you. But you make a panicked, needy sort of sound as you reach for him and it's enough to bring him back to you, some kind of innate pull he has that draws him to your aid. His hands cup your face delicately and he smoothes his thumbs over your cheeks as you close your eyes, willing yourself to breathe.

"I'm not a… I'm not a faithful kind of person, Red. There's a devotion in you that's misplaced." You try to say it gently, the words pulling at your vocal cords as you speak, everything coming out painfully. Tim leans forward to rest his forehead against yours.

"You don't get to choose who I worship," he offers. Your shoulders tense slightly.

"Do you worship me? Or do you love me?" You ask. He doesn't pull away, keeping his eyes closed as his forehead rests against yours.

"What's the difference?"

"There's a gap there, Tim. The difference between devotion and worship. It's - it's love that separates the two," you explain, squeezing your eyes shut.

"I love you." He says it like it's easy.

"Are you sure?" He pulls away at the question, thumbing over your cheeks until you open your eyes to look at him. He's still close enough that you can feel his breath on yours.

"There is a part of you that knows how to be loved," he says - like it's simple. "I'm going to stay here until you find it."

"And then?"

"And then I'll stay to love you." Your hands reach for him at his words, bunching the front of his shirt in your fingers.

"What if that never happens?" You ask, looking anywhere but him, anywhere but straight into the love shining in his eyes.

"Then I'll pray to you," a kiss is pressed to the corner of your mouth. "Like I always have."

"I'm not an idol to obsess over," you protest weakly. More kisses are pressed up your cheek, over your eyelids once they flutter closed, and down the bridge of your nose.

"No," Tim acknowledges easily. "You're someone to be loved. But you haven't figured out how to do that yet, and I… I haven't figured out how to do this yet, either." Your hands move from his shirt to tangle in his hair as you pull him impossibly closer.

"Maybe we'll never learn," your voice is hushed as his lips hover over yours. "Maybe we'll be these things forever."

"Then we'll be them together," is Tim's immediate answer, his lips brushing against your own. "And maybe that's all we need."

#smsn.writes #tim drake #tim drake x reader #tim drake x you #tim drake x y/n #tim drake imagine #tim drake fanfiction #tim drake fic #tim drake fluff #red robin #red robin x reader #red robin x you #red robin x y/n #red robin imagine

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saylorsaysstop · 3 months

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Quiet Acts of Love | Bat Boys

What are the quiet acts of love the Bat Boys live by when it comes to the love of their life?

↪ prompt list used

↪ Likes, reblogs, and comments are always welcome! ⭐️

↪ My Masterlist

BRUCE WAYNE 🖤 | always giving the other the last bite of their food

You're not sure when it started happening. Whether it was the first date you eyed Bruce's plate with drool nearly seeping from the corners of your mouth or that night you stayed over and Alfred asked what your breakfast preferences were, you saw Bruce's delicious omelet. Either way, a fork was being ushered to your mouth with the last bite on the prongs.

The first time it happened though, you were confused. "What?"

Bruce smirked, holding the fork in front of your mouth. "You've been staring at my plate since you got yours. Go on, have the last bite."

A smile spread across your face and you parted your lips, Bruce gently putting the fork in your mouth. You savored the taste. After that night, Bruce made it a habit to always give you the last bite of his food whether it be breakfast, lunch, dinner, or dessert. He loved seeing your pretty eyes roll back with the flavor on your tongue.

And if it's dessert? Expect Bruce to not only give you the last bite but he's certainly going to rub his tongue against yours to taste it again.

DICK GRAYSON 💙 | keeping a few of their favorite snacks in the house for when they visit.

"I'm hungryyyy!" You groan, flopped upside down on Dick's couch. He smiled down at you and stroked his fingertips across your face before grabbing your hands and pulling you into a seated position.

"Go look through the cabinet. Bottom shelf on the left." He winks, helping you to your feet. He gives your ass a firm squeeze on the way to the kitchen, earning a laugh from you.

You make your way over to the cabinet, a little confused by his specificity on where to look. But when you pulled open the cabinet and came face-to-face with the spot he pointed out, a gasp flooded from your mouth.

"You bought my favorite snacks?!" You erupt, twisting to see Dick leaning against the doorjamb with his arms crossed, a cocky little smirk on his face.

There was everything you wanted. Salty, sweet, sour. Whatever Dick saw you eating most of, your favorites were neatly stowed into their own little portion of the cabinet. "You. Are. Amazing!" You squeak, grabbing your snacks and racing back to the couch, but first stopping to give him a quick kiss on the mouth.

JASON TODD ❤️ | kisses. on. the. tip. of. the. nose.

The fog poured from your mouth- that's how freezing it was in Gotham City. You sat on the rooftop with Jason, stargazing. You weren't sure why you agreed to do it in these temperatures, but alas, there you were.

Jason turned his head to the side and kissed the tip of your nose, earning the tips of your ears to grow hot. "W-what was that for?" You stammered.

Jason grinned in response and kissed the tip of your nose again. "You are so adorable- that's why." He did it again, and again, his warm lips a stark contrast to the bitter air of the night.

It started a new tradition. Jason always kissed the tip of your nose. It was his way of showing his affection for you. Loved watching you get all flustered when he'd kiss the very tip, your eyes crossing to see his lips in the center. He'd pull away and shoot you a devious wink before he'd part for the evening.

Tip of the nose kisses became mandatory. It was an argument settler too, the motion that told you that neither of you would go to bed angry. Because how can one go to bed angry with the most handsome man who kisses the love his life on the tip of their nose post-argument?

TIM DRAKE ☕️ | "i brought you flowers." "for what?" "there has to be a reason?"

"Hey, Tim's in the lobby." Your assistant said as she rapped her knuckles on your door. You raised an eyebrow and pushed away from your desk. You were due to meet Tim for lunch downtown but you weren't sure why he was at your work.

You sailed down the elevator to the first floor and upon the steel doors opening, your eyes widened at the sight of a very handsome Tim Drake, sporting a pair of slacks and a dress shirt. In his hands was a massive bouquet of flowers which had already been placed beautifully inside a vase.

"Tim!" You exclaimed. Heat rose to your cheeks as your co-workers all gathered around to see the very romantic gesture your boyfriend pulled off.

"I brought you flowers." Tim flashed you a boyish grin. You laughed, nodding.

"For what?"

Tim squinted his eyes and took a step forward, his hand dropping to your waist. "There has to be a reason?" He whispered in your ear before nipping you playfully on the cheek. "Wanted to surprise you, baby. You're mine and you deserve it." He shot you a wink as you took the flowers off his hands. After that, Tim spontaneously brought you flowers, all in the name of you being his.

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incrediblyaccuratethoughts · 1 year

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I’m Gonna Tell ‘Em (Don’t you Dare)

Ao3

Tim just wanted coffee. That’s really all he desired in life. Coffee. His position as Red Robin. And Wayne Industries to get its shit together for one goddamn day. In that order.

“Are you shitting me? I was a fucking crime lord you little terror, I don’t give a fuck-”

He’d done an all-nighter in the Batcave. Again. Trying to crack a cold case he was sure had something to do with Riddler's vague warning a few nights ago. And he was so close, but his eyes had started to close for just a little too long.

So tell him why he walked into an argument that seemed to be based around the topic of murder, at 7 in the morning. Between Jason and Damian. Who both tried to kill him at least once. Respectively.

“And I am the Demon Prodigy of the League of Assassins. I could kill a man before I could speak.”

Tim stands in the doorway, contemplating if his need for coffee is higher than his potential rate of getting maimed in the dining room.

“Yeah, but you were fucking sheltered inside the bases like goddamn Rapunzel in her-”

“I was not sheltered. You of all people should know of Mother’s harshness for disobedience-“

“Oh and I’m sure you were so disobedient Mr. Goody Two Shoes-“

Ultimately, the urge for coffee wins. Tim crosses the kitchen as unnoticeably as he can, skirting the edges and keeping his footsteps as light as he can manage on 10 hours of sleep in the last week.

He’s busy, okay?

“I’ll admit I wasn’t raised to go against the orders of a higher-up but that did not mean-”

“Bull. Fucking. Shit.”

“Did my propensity for sneaking animals into the house escaped your notice? I thought you were better trained-“

“So what? You save every bird with a broken wing you come across, but you’d willingly slit the throat of a human?”

“Yes, Todd. That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

The coffee pot is half full. Tim counts this as the one redeeming factor of this morning. The threat of getting stabbed is nothing in the face of sweet, sweet caffeine.

“What’s your fucking number then?”

“I can’t possibly know the exact-“

“Oh no, you don’t get to pull that shit on me-“

Tim considers pouring himself a cup, but he’s gonna drink the whole thing anyway and he’s exhausted enough to zone out during Alfred’s inevitable lecture, so he takes the whole pot and tips it back.

“I was sent out for missions when I was barely more than a toddler. You can’t expect me to remember every-“

“Ra’s had files on every fucking mission I did while brain dead and high on Lazarus rage, there’s no fucking way he didn’t have an exact-“

Tim chugs his precious coffee. The temperature is surprisingly cool enough that he doesn't immediately burn his tongue. Not that a few scorched taste buds would stop Tim from inhaling the only thing between him and unconscious. But it’s the thought that counts.

“What’s yours then, Todd?”

“Nope. Not until you tell me yours first. I’m not about to have you raise the number because I told you mine.”

“That’s preposterous. I would do no such thing.”

Tim calculates his chances of making it back out of the kitchen with a quarter pot of coffee in his hands and decides his caffeine fix is safer off with a few counters between him and his homicidal brothers.

And yah know. His physical well-being. But that’s pretty low on his ‘fucks to give list’ at the moment.

“I don’t trust a fucking word coming out of your mouth-“

“There’s an easy way to settle this if you’d just-“

“What? Shut up? Drop the argument? No fucking-“

“We can write it down separately and then show it to each other at the same time."

“…huh.”

Tim looks up in genuine fear when both of his siblings go quiet. That’s never a good sign. Not in this house.

There’s a window to his right that he could probably smash through if it came to it.

Neither of them are looking at him though, just regarding each other with much less animosity than a few seconds ago. Tim decides he’s probably fine and goes back to his coffee.

“I will go retrieve a piece of paper and two pens.”

Damian leaves the room and Tim freezes like if he stays still enough it’ll keep Jason from noticing him. Unfortunately, now that his older brother’s attention is directed to his surroundings and not just screaming at a 12-year-old, he makes direct eye contact with Tim.

“Oh hey, Timmers. How long have you been here?”

Tim stares at him blankly. He- doesn’t know what answer Jason wants from him and he’s not willing to face his older brother’s wrath if he’d been having what he thought was a private conversation.

“Sorry about the noise. I hope we didn’t wake you up.” Jason says after it’s clear that he isn't getting answers out of Tim.

As if the manor isn’t literally soundproofed. For this exact reason.

Tim’s 17 years of social etiquette training won’t let him just not answer the open-ended comment, but god does he wish that it did.

“No, I was already up.”

Jason nods as if he was expecting that answer. Which is fair. Tim’s sure he looks just as tired as he feels. His eye bags could hold all of his emotional trauma. They’re Guchi.

“And does Alfred know you’re drinking straight from the pot?” Jason motions to the carafe Tim’s clutching like a lifeline. Because it is.

Tim opens his mouth to lie through his teeth, but is saved by Damian’s re-entry. Wow, he’s never been so glad to see his stab-happy younger brother.

True to his word, the kid’s carrying a few pieces of paper and pens. Tim could leave now. He could casually walk right past them, out of the kitchen, and back to the cave to keep working on his case, but dammit, he’s invested now.

He’s still not sure what this argument is about exactly, but he’s willing to wait a few more minutes to satiate his curiosity now that he’s tentatively sure that the argument isn’t going to evolve into physical violence.

“I’ve acquired the tools to finish this once and for all, Todd.” Damian announces, sliding half of his spoils to Jason.

“Great. We’ll write our body count down and on 3 we’ll turn ‘em around. Got it?”

“Don’t tell me what to do” Damian grumbles, but writes dutifully anyway. The kid would be funny if he didn’t back his threats up with swords.

Tim is. Still lost, but he’s always secretly wondered how many people his brothers have killed. In a morbid way. Mostly because he wants to know if the murder attempts on him were a particularly special event or just a pattern. For his mental health's sake.

“Got it?” Jason asks, holding his paper close to his chest so no one can peek. Tim doesn’t know who would, considering he’s the only one in the kitchen that’s not a part of this squabble, but Damian copies the movement and Tim finds himself inching closer, taking the last swig of his coffee.

“One.”

“Two.”

“Three!”

They flip the papers around and for a moment the kitchen is quiet.

“FUCK YEAH!” Jason pumps his fist in the air with a whoop. “Ha! Take that, Demon Brat! I’m the Robin with the highest kill count!”

Tim spits out his coffee and coughs violently. It’s partially because he got some in his lungs, but also to cover the incredulous laughter bursting uncontrollably out of him. It takes him a good few seconds to get his breathing under control, but when he looks up, his brothers are staring at him.

For a moment he’s tempted. So fucking tempted. Because he hasn’t told anyone anything more than bits and pieces about his time with the League. Hell, the only reason his family even knows about his little stint playing lap dog for Ra’s, is because he choked out a vague explanation about his missing spleen when he went into sepsis.

They don’t know about the missions he was sent on. The people he sold out. And most importantly, the multiple bases he blew up because he was crazier than the Joker after Bart and Kon’s death and then the near miss with Bruce.

The bases he absolutely didn’t evacuate. With hundreds of people inside. A few actually avalanched down mountainsides, and he’d eat his Batarang if any of them survived.

The only word he’d confidently use to describe his mental state then, is feral.

He didn’t have to blow them up. He really didn’t. A good few of the bases he’d never actually seen before he snuck in to level the place, but he’d been having a shitty year so naturally, he was going to make sure Ra’s got to have one too.

Not to mention that Tim was as depressed as he’d ever been and wasn’t particularly giving a lot of fucks about if he died during his warpath. He’d already lost a spleen, what were a few more organs?

So this argument? This competition? He finds it objectively fucking hilarious.

Damian and Jason are still staring at him in bewilderment, and for a moment -just a wild moment- he thinks about telling them.

Explaining how he was just. So done. And could only think of one way out, so he systematically hacked into every base he could get his hands on. Stole as many files as he could during his time constraint. And then blew all of them sky-high.

Thought about telling them how on one particularly bad night, gone through every log of the people in those bases. How he hadn’t been ‘sick’ as he claimed the week after he managed to crawl out of his safe house.

He was just too horrified to look anyone in the eye.

It would be funny to watch his family’s expressions go through the five stages of grief and add a few more just for funsies, if they even believed him at all. But no. Tim had his secrets and he was going to take them to the grave.

He grinned at his brothers, patted Jason on the shoulder with a quiet congratulations, and strolled out of the kitchen.

Tim had cases to solve and letting his family assume he wasn’t capable of murder was better for all of them in the long run.

No matter how wrong they were.

👻

In my defense. Writing prompts make the brain noodle go brr. You can blame @coffinbirds and @batcavescolony for these posts.

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staaryminnie · 2 months

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Going on Dates ~ Batboys

Fluff!!

Note: fem reader

Dick Grayson

Physical Activities! Walking the dog at the park, cycling, bowling, or swimming, but in this time, you guys decided on mini golf. "Gosh, you're so bad at this." Dick laughed as you missed again. "Hey! I'm just a little rusty. It's been a while, okay!" You couldn't remember how long it's been since you've played. "Fine, then let me help you." Before you knew it, he placed his arms around you, his hands placed over yours, holding the golf club. You could feel his body press up against your back. You were zoning out again. All you could think of was him, you didn't even pay attention to what he was teaching you. "You're such a dummy. Tell me what's on your mind because I know it definitely isn't mini golf" you turned around to face him, Dicks arms still wrapped around you. He was so close, you could smell his cologne. "You. I was thinking of you" your cheeks flushing after your bold confession. "My girl loves having me this close doesn't she?" Dick smirked at you, he knew what he was doing. His hand caressed your cheek softly. "Your so pretty when you look at me like that"

Jason Todd

Homebody date! He likes to stay at home cuddling and snuggling up together. When you guys get the munchies, he's more than happy to cook with you. "Fuck your so cute~" jason hugged you from behind, as you flipped the pancakes. "No YOUR the cutest" you argued back. "Not cute. I'm mean" he joked back. Jason's hands go from your tummy down to you hips and stopping at your thighs; his lips peppering your neck with kisses making you giggle. "Shhh stay still baby" he whispered into your ear, you could feel his grip on your thighs. The pancakes were now the least of your concern, all you could think was him and all you wanted was him. "Jay~" his name slipped out. "I know you want me princess, but you gotta finish the pancakes first" he kissed your cheek before releasing you from his grip. "I'll wait for you in bed, kay?"

Tim Drake

Library dates! The two of you cuddled together in the back of the library floor, sharing a book and enjoying each other's presence. You're sitting in between his legs, your back is pressed against his chest, and he's resting his chin on your shoulder, his arms out infront of you holding the book. You really should be focusing on the book, but you're too busy staring at his arm veins. Without thinking your fingers start tracing them, earning a smile from him. Tim drops the book and wraps his arms around you. "What is it, love? You got my attention. " he pressed a few kisses on your cheek before letting you answer. "Your veins are kinda distracting." You felt a bit embarrassed saying it out loud. "Yea? Well, you're pretty distracting yourself. Kinda hard to read a book when a pretty girl like you is pressed up against me, " he whispered into your ear. "Tim, I'm sorr-" "Don't apologize, babe, I love having having you like this & I know you do too"

#batman #nightwing #red hood #red robin #nightwing fluff #dick grayson fluff #red hood fluff #jason todd fluff #tim drake fluff #nightwing smut #dick grayson smut #red hood smut #jason todd smut #tim drake smut #batboys

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anothertimdrakestan · 1 year

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oooo boy. first, love your writing boo you’re seriously an inspiration <3. secondly, a fic idea: a friend of tim’s flies in to see him bc she moved to maine forever ago, they were like childhood besties. but when they meet again, there’s a mf-ing sPARkk

Memories - Tim Drake x Reader

"I'm so sorry to have to stop taking questions, but we've kept Ms. L/N for 15 extra minutes and I'm sure she has plans after! Everyone please give her another round of applause for coming all the way to Gotham University to present her outstanding research!" the lecture hall erupted with applause as you smiled and waved at the sea of faces in front of you. Presenting your research across the nation was a dream, and although you barely remember it, Gotham was your hometown, and you were excited to see what parts of your rose-coloured memories remained.

"Thank you so much for having me GU! Please, email me with any more questions I'll be happy to reply." you called to the masses that were filing out as you shook your peer's hand one last time, both exchanging pleasantries as the room quieted.

"Sorry again for keeping you over, Ms. L/N, I'm sure you're very busy! But, if you could just take a look at one of my papers up for publication, I would be so, so thankful!" he began, flipping up his laptop as you realized this opportunity to speak was really just an exchange of favours.

A terrifyingly familiar voice echoed across the hall, "actually, she is busy, we have plans." you almost had to squint to see a man's frame leaning up against the doorway, backlit enough that you couldn't make out the details of his face.

"Oh! So sorry. I- uh I can email it to you! We can hop on a zoom call later in the week?" your peer seemed to recognize the figure immediately, packing his things as quickly as the students who were just there for attendance. He scurried away just as quickly too.

"It's been years, but you didn't think I'd find you?" the voice drifted across the room as you turned to face the figure, starting your walk up to him.

"I'm so sorry, the lighting, it's awful! I don't quite recognize you and I certainly don't have plans with anyone I'm afraid!" you replied, practically flying up the stairs just to meet this man face to face. He was dressed exquisitely: suit clearly tailored, hair slicked back with the perfect suave tousle, it was exhilarating.

"You don't recognize your only Gotham friend?"

"I don't have any Gotham friends, I was only here for my first few years of elementary school- oh my god Tim?" you rambled until you made it close enough to see the stranger's face and froze. The eyes, the familiar gleam of mischief and intelligence you had befriended what felt like a million years ago were staring back at you.

"Hey Y/n. Long time no see." he held out a strong hand, helping you up the last few steps, bringing both of you into the light. He continued, "you look, incredible." to which you just gawked in return.

"You look, like Tim" you whispered, tying the strings of comparison between the child you had first hacked a firewall with and the grown man, really billionaire, that stood before you.

He ran an awkward hand through his hair at your response, "thanks, I think." to which you scrambled back, "no! I mean, you look good, really really good, I just can't believe it's you. I mean, I thought about reaching out, you're on my Gotham list [you held up a list of scribbles of old memories] but I just figured you'd be so busy that I didn't bother."

"Didn't bother a partner in underage crime? Callous. Let's see the list though!" he snorted, snatching the scribbles from your hands, holding it up as he read aloud your scrambled childhood memories:

"Visit the nature museum- closed after a Poison Ivy attack, find Mr. Smith from 2nd grade- god you've gotta use google he's long dead he was like 70 when we were 6! Hmmm, visit the Big Belly Burger on 11th- now that's a good one!" he scanned the list quickly while you clawed for it back hoping he wouldn't get to-

"find the old rope swing behind Wayne Manor. You remember that?" the words left his lips just as you tore the paper out of his hand, tucking it back into your pocket.

"Of course I remember it, but it's whatever. It's probably also dead and gone or ruined by a villain. Why are you even here?" you tried to turn the spotlight onto Tim, but he was already halfway out the room, calling "C'mon! At the least I can buy you a 3$ burger and shitty milkshake." to which you haplessly obliged.

"Do you remember getting caught when we rigged the 5th grade presidential election? Why did you even want that kid to win anyway?" You laughed, almost uncontrollably, reminiscing on the old shenanigans.

Tim replied, "oh I didn't care who won or lost, I just wanted to see if we could do it!" to which you threw a french fry at him, which he swiftly caught. "Oh my god we almost got expelled Tim!"

"Doesn't match the time you made us start a homework-completing company in your backyard!" his shoulders shook with laugher.

"We were broke!" you chided, waving your arms exasperated, like you were a kid begging him to join your master plan once again.

"We were six years old!" he chuckled.

"We were, weren't we." you mused, popping the last fry in your mouth, leaning back with a sigh. Some things didn't change. Big Belly Burger was still addictive, Gotham was still filled with pollution, and Tim was still the very best thing about the entire city.

"I can check off one last thing on your bucket list." Tim said decidedly, sitting up in his chair.

"Yea? You gonna bring me to Mr. Smith's grave?" you groaned. But Tim stood up, he had lost the suit jacket and tie somewhere along the 2 hours you'd both spent in the fast food joint, he looked young again. You felt young again.

He had driven you somewhere you only dreamed of pulling into, Gotham Manor. You always wondered how the poor boy from a public elementary school had managed to get adopted by Bruce Wayne, but you never knew how to reach out and ask.

"Tell me you don't still have the rope swing" you shook your head with a grin. Tim just shrugged, hopping out of the sleek black car and running over to open your door for you.

"What do you take me for? A sap?" he crooned.

"Absolutely." you replied, bumping his side with your shoulder as he took the opportunity to lazily sweep an arm around you, guiding you to massive backyard gardens in the Manor.

You mused, "if we wanted to be true to character, we should've snuck in like old times" and Tim snorted, "let's just say I've upped the security pretty significantly, and that wouldn't go so well for us."

You rounded the edge of the perfectly trimmed garden to the scattered trees on the Manor's edge, and sitting there looking the same as ever was a massive tree, a thick rope hanging down tied tightly around a massive tire, the kind a monster truck or a weightlifter threw around, you and Tim had always wondered why it was there, or how the poor tree managed to hold it up, but you never worried about it, both swinging happily late at night after both sneaking out.

You placed a hand on the tree, a few rogue tears slipping down your cheeks as you leaned into Tim's embrace. "I really loved it here you know." you whispered.

"I did too. When you left it wasn't really the same." his voice was soft, you could feel his chest rumbling with every word.

"Really? I guess I always figured you'd find some other genius and take over the world with them"

"You thought I could replace you?"

"No- I mean maybe? I don't know, we were kids I just figured-"

"I didn't forget. You were my first kiss, right here." he leaned forward to put a hand on the old tree.

"Mine too." you replied, smiling as you remembered the nervous peck that occurred the night before you left.

"I was so nervous." he chuckled, staring at the tree, his gaze never meeting yours.

"I didn't think you had the balls." you teased, and his eyes snapped to yours.

"Okay, I was a pretty shy kid, but I've grown a lot."

"Yeah?" you grinned, biting your bottom lip to keep from breaking into a beaming smile.

Tim gently pushed you back against the tree, his hand guiding your chin up, letting your eyes meet his, "yeah" was all he muttered before pressing another gentle, warm kiss to your lips, and the same butterflies you got, all those years ago, took flight once again.

I hope you enjoyed, thank you so much for the request! <3

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