Barista (t.d.)
barista (t.d.)
Pairing: Tim Drake x Reader
Word Count: 6.2k
Summary: You have a big, fat crush on your regular—Gotham’s very own friendly neighborhood coffee addict, Tim Drake.
A/N: Please compliment me about the banner I worked very hard on it <3 Also Happy New Year!!!
Getting a job in food service was honestly the last thing you wanted to do. You had heard enough horror stories from your friends who had taken many summer jobs unlike you. They often complained of insufferable superiors, bad working hours, and even worse pay and even though their stories of annoying Karens were extremely entertaining, you didn't think you'd be any good at handling them yourself. Unless your boss was okay with you cussing them out.
So, when your parents brought up you getting a job, you had vehemently refused. It's not like you particularly needed the money, however, they made a good point about needing to gain experience and how you were practically a rotting pile of flesh since you had begun summer break.
You couldn't argue with their points, even you knew that you needed to get back into a routine and get some fresh air. However, a job as a barista was the last thing you wanted to do.
But when your parents mentioned that you'd be working at your aunt's cafe, you were quick to change your tune. You always had a blast with her, and she'd definitely pay you well, lest she face the rath of her older sister, your mother. Plus, she often claimed that you were her favourite niece, despite not having any other but you supposed it was the thought that counted. Plus, you'd make extra money that you could use for pretty much anything.
So, now adorned in an apron, you stood behind the counter and took orders. Your aunt oversaw the pastry making and baking while you were in charge of the register and making drinks.
The thing you liked the most about your aunt's cafe was that it was a rare find for many customers. The cafe was the perfect space for people to sit in the quiet and get some work done. There was rarely ever any rush unless a big party came, however even then you were never really spread thin. You suppose you should feel bad that your aunt wasn't getting much business but she more than made up for the lack of customers with her overpriced coffee and cakes. But you would never tell her that. Besides, she made most of her profits from custom cake orders.
That's not to say that you didn't get any customers, you had very many loyal regulars that were always polite and would always strike up a conversation with you. Most of them were residents from the high-rise building above the shop so they were usually pretty wealthy and thus knew how to tip well.
And of course, the most loyal customer of them all, Gotham’s very own coffee addict; Tim Drake.
You take back your previous statement; he was definitely the thing you liked the most about the cafe.
You would have been down bad if he had just been just good looking; with blue eyes that were unusually bright and clear, like as though God cut the fabric of the afternoon sky and the clear blue ocean and made his irises with them. His pale skin and dark hair definitely made them seem even brighter.
He was so good looking that your customer-service-smile had frozen onto your face when he first entered the cafe, barely hearing his order over the thumping of your heartbeat and your brains incessant chatter trying to tell you to pay attention to what he was saying. Eventually, you had to apologize and ask him to repeat his order in your stupor, giving the excuse that you were new even though you had been there for more than 2 weeks.
He just smiled politely and told you not to worry before fishing his wallet and paying for his drink, tipping 50%. He wasn't just gorgeous but also well-mannered and sweet. You were down so catastrophically, cataclysmically bad.
The next time he came in, you learnt his name by pretending you needed to write it down on the cup and he casually commented how you didn't really do that last time. You said it was because he had been the only one in the store last time even though there was only one additional customer there. And you all were aware that you didn't bother to ask for the other customer’s name.
Tim continued to come almost every morning for the next couple of weeks and once you learnt how to actually comprehend the words coming out of his mouth instead of just listening to angelic singing every time he looked at you, you realized he was actually very interesting.
He'd always strike up a conversation with you and sometimes you'd take your lunch break and sit with him at the table while you talked. He was hilarious and intelligent and creative and the more you talked with him the more your plain attraction turned into affection before you knew it.
"I see you like Red Robin." Tim commented casually, noticing the insignia pin that you had on your apron. You glanced at the enamel pin that you had bought from a bodega on an impulse out of instinct before nodding, "Yeah, he's my favourite amongst the bats."
"Oh really? How come? Most people really prefer Nightwing, like me."
You shrugged, "I dunno, I just feel like he doesn't get enough appreciation as compared to the others. Plus, he makes the papers the least often."
"So, what? You felt bad that no one pays attention to him?"
You shook your head, clutching the screen as you typed in his order that you had already memorized. A brown sugar shaken espresso that you had convinced him to try just once, and he had immediately been hooked onto. You obviously added a couple extra shots of espresso for his caffeine addicted self.
"On the contrary, the fact that he's not seen in the paper probably means that he's getting the job done quietly and efficiently. Or maybe not. But that's just my guess. He's not bad looking either."
Tim chuckled, passing you his card, "Don't let him hear you say that; he might just swoon at the compliment."
"Well, I haven't actually seen his face, so I can't say with full certainty."
Tim lingered by the counter while you made his coffee, speaking loudly due to the absence of customers at this time. You had once mentioned that this was your least busy time; you wondered if he visited during that time, so he'd get to talk to you for longer.
You shook your head, reminding yourself not to get a big head as you pulled a double shot of espresso, quickly adding it to the shaking glass with brown sugar.
"I bet I’m better looking."
You really hadn't meant to laugh as hard as you had; you just pictured Tim Drake, with his posh posture and Gotham elite personality, sniffing at Red Robin as he tried to critique and compare looks. You were fairly sure that Red Robin was a head taller than him as well. The more you thought about it, the harder you laughed.
When you finally managed to wipe the tears from your eyes, Tim was still standing at the counter with a star-struck expression, pink beginning to paint his porcelain skin in beautiful blooms. You bit your lip, smiling in apology. He must have been quite embarrassed at your boisterous laughter.
"S-Sorry, you caught me off-guard." You explained, still giving him a sheepish smile as you grabbed a napkin and straw for him. The red had made its way up to his ears and down his neck before disappearing underneath the hoodie he was wearing.
Great, you had a crush on the guy and just laughed at the thought of him being better looking compared to a guy you had never even seen before.
"It's fine, it was meant to be a joke, so I suppose I’m flattered."
"No, I was being mean, you're definitely better looking." You teased, "If I ever meet Red Robin, I’ll definitely let him know that."
"I’ll hold it to you." He joked, grabbing his drink.
Having a crush was way more physically taxing than you had remembered it being. Every time Tim was around you, your heart slammed so sharply against your ribcage you would get breathless, and your stomach would twist into so many knots you'd find your abdomen getting sore.
You'd grow visibly excited when it was around the time for him to enter the store, making sure everyone else's orders were fulfilled so that you could give him as much of your undivided attention.
After being hopelessly infatuated and pining for him for a while, you had thought that you had gotten used to the incessant butterflies flapping their fingers against the walls of your stomach. However, Tim continued to prove you wrong.
You had just finished wiping down the steam wand of the espresso machine, when the bell above the store door had jingled, telling you that you had a customer.
When your eyes landed on the man standing behind the register, you couldn't help but freeze, stomach squeezing so tightly you could feel your heart crawl up to your throat, stopping you from welcoming him inside.
Tim Drake was wearing a suit.
His hair was styled for the first time you had ever seen him; dark tresses neatly gelled away from his face aside for a couple strands that tickled his nose.
You clenched the cloth in your hands so tightly you could feel the rough fabric beginning to slightly burn your skin. A part of you wanted to collapse into a puddle on the floor, already knowing how weak your knees had gotten at the site of him adjusting his watch. Oh, you wanted to dissolve into a pile of warm syrup, and you bit your lips to hide a dopey, lovesick grin.
Another, more repressed part, wanted to grab his tie in a single fist and yank the handsome man toward you, climbing over the counter and kissing him all over until his white shirt was stained with your lip gloss, his immaculate hair was messed up by your fingers and his cologne had rubbed off on your skin instead. You forced that part of yourself into the corner because she seriously needed a time-out.
"Um, hey?"
This was the first time he had spoken, clearly noticing how you just stood awkward frozen in time. Oh god, his voice was so much more attractive than you remembered. This wasn't fair.
"H-Hi, where are you going off to so prim and proper?" You asked, pulling yourself together by pinching your thigh so painfully that you could feel a bruise beginning to form.
"Oh, I just have a meeting at work. I do most of the work from home, but I’m needed in the office today." He explained, handing you his card like clockwork and you nodded, stepping away so you could start making his drink.
"Wow, how adult." You mused, shaking the tumbler quickly before pouring it into his cup and handing it to him.
"You look good, by the way," His warm fingertips grazed against your own when you handed him the tissue and straw. You watched as a bashful smile grew on his face at your compliment, making your heart flutter like a feather floating through the wind, "Much better than Red Robin."
He rolled his eyes, small smile turning into a full-blown grin.
***
This was the first time since you had met Tim that he hadn't come to the bakery alone and thus it would be the first time in a very long time that you actually had to take the order instead of automatically input his drink order.
Unfortunately, it would also be the last time you would be taking his order. You were supposed to work at the coffee shop for the rest of the month, however you had gotten an opportunity from your professor to be a part of his research team for the next semester and he required you to begin early. Which meant that you would no longer have the time to work for your aunt.
You had yet to tell Tim, upset at the thought of not being able to see him every morning from now onwards.
You had thought long and hard about it last night after you had confirmed your participation on the research team; you didn't want it to be the last time that you spoke to Tim tomorrow, you wanted him in your life.
So, you came to the conclusion that you would finally confess to him. You didn't want to continue the pining and end up in the purgatory that is the friendzone so you figured it would be the least risky to admit your feelings to him on your last day there. If he said no, you'd no longer have to run into him again every morning. If anything, he might be relieved that his regular coffee runs wouldn't be awkward from now on.
However, there was one new detail that was going to make your plan more embarrassing—
"This is my older brother, Dick." Tim introduced and you nodded, recalling when he talked about his extremely big family. Also, there was no one in city who wasn't aware of the Gotham prince, Dick Grayson, the oldest son of billionaire Bruce Wayne. Your eyes flittered between the both of them; despite being adopted, they shared a striking resemblance to each other.
You gave him a kind smile, "It's nice to finally meet you, Tim talks about you a lot."
"Good things, I hope." He responded, ever the ray of sunshine and you found yourself turning toward him like a lone sunflower. You realized he had that effect on people, the other customers also were privy to his presence. It was almost like he had a halo shining on the top of his head. The term 'Prince of Gotham' was certainly well-earned.
"Those are state secrets." You joked, playfully winking at him and he gave you a good-natured grin.
"So, what will you be having today?"
Tim ordered his regular and Dick got a matcha along with a vegan cheese tart for 'Dami' who you assumed was Tim's youngest brother Damian.
Tim held his card out for you to pay for their drinks and you inhaled sharply, digging your heel into your other foot to strengthen your resolve.
It was now or never, (Y/N).
You shook your head, trying your best to remain nonchalant even though your stomach was taking a rollercoaster ride, and you pins began to prick at your toes from how hard you were stepping on it with your other foot.
"it's on the house."
Tim tried to protest but you shut him down, not even making any moves to try and take his card from him, only handing him his receipt with the order number on it.
"Don't let your boss find out you're handing out freebies to everyone." He teased, sliding his card back into his wallet and you dug your nails into your palm, trying not to chicken out in the last second.
"Actually, the freebies are only for the cute customers that the barista has a crush on." You replied smoothly, grabbing the filter for the espresso machine and not looking back at Tim, afraid of his reaction.
Oh god, was your voice shaking? You tried your best to remain collected on the outside even though on the inside your heart was erupting like a volcano, magma flowing through your veins and setting your entire body ablaze.
You spared a small glance at his older brother, embarrassed that he was here to witness this. A sizzling heat began to run up your neck and to your cheeks, fingers stiff as you tamped the coffee.
A chuckle brought you out of your stupor and your stomach sank. It wasn't the usual laugh that Tim had, instead a mirthless sound that made you look back up at him, only to find him staring at the receipt you had given him, now crumpled him in a tight fist.
"Glad I’m the exception then," He said through gritted teeth, "I’m gonna go."
He left without making so much as another glance at you and your cheeks coloured in humiliation when you had realized his brother had seen that whole interaction with an equal expression of shock and pity that made you quickly bite down on an ice cube to prevent any tears from lining your lashes.
You quickly made the drinks, reminding yourself that it was okay since you were never gonna see him again, keeping your customer service smile on until his brother had left the store and then some before you finally let it fall.
***
"Dude, what the hell is wrong with you?" Dick asked, placing Tim's coffee order on the console of the bat computer, already finished his matcha. The coffee had long been watered down; the ice had melted in the Gotham heat on his walk back home since Tim had just left him there at the coffee shop.
The younger brother ignored him, staring at the screen with a glare that began to get increasingly annoyed. When it became clear to him that Dick wasn't going to move from his side until he got an answer, Tim finally sighed "I’m sorry for ditching you at the coffee shop."
"Apology accepted but that's not what I meant. Why were you so mean to that poor girl? I mean if you didn't like her, you could've at least turned her down gently."
Tim scoffed, incredibly peeved, "Are you stupid? She was clearly asking you out! I've been going there for like 2 months now and she's never been so blushy and nervous before you walked in there with your stupid tall height and stupid big grin and stupid good looks!"
Dick's jaw dropped open; blue eyes wide with shock. Wasn't Timothy meant to be like the smartest and most logical one amongst them? As far as he knew he was also acknowledged by R’as Al Ghul himself as a remarkable detective. Hell, he had discovered the dark knight's secret identity when he was nine.
And yet—
"Are you fucking stupid? She wasn't asking me out! That cute little flirty compliment was clearly directed at you!"
Tim still looked upset, though Dick could clearly see that he was beginning to doubt his conclusions. Thank goodness, he didn't inherit Bruce’s or his brother's stubbornness.
"So, you like her but thought she was hitting on me, so you got all emo?" Dick deftly deduced, watching as an embarrassed rash spread across his pale skin, "Dude, you really hurt her feelings. I think she was about to cry when you walked out like that."
You had really tried to look like Tim's exit hadn't affected you and to an untrained eye it probably would've looked like that, but Dick noticed how you were chewing down on your bottom lip til it bled just to prevent from crying.
Tim's eyes now raised to him, now completely uncertain with a touch of guilt and Dick sighed.
He wasn't the son of the greatest detective for nothing, but it wouldn't take years of training to know what a lovesick boy looked like. He had found out that Tim had been visiting this particular coffee shop every day at the same time when he flat out refused to have Alfred’s French press in favour of driving across town to the penthouse, he'd sometimes sleep in just to get coffee.
Tim would never refuse Alfred’s French press unless he was unconscious. Or dead.
Which lead Dick to do some sleuthing.
Didn't take any effort to check his credit card statement and find out that he had been visiting this particular store every single day. Which is really the reason that Dick tagged along that day, to meet the girl who had so clearly captured his little brother's attention.
He was honestly giddy when he realized that you were shooting your shot right in front of him. Oh, he could see the wedding happening before his eyes already, where he would very obviously make his groomsman speech, telling the crowd how he had been there the day you finally became a couple.
But Tim merely crushed up the paper receipt in his hand before storming out and he was left alone in the coffee shop, having to watch as Tim's future wife kept her gaze anchored to the floor while she tried to make the coffee that she had just given them for free. He left a fifty in the tip jar right then.
This would not be the last time that his brother would do something stupid throughout the duration of your relationship. He supposed you might have dodged a bullet due to the misunderstanding but Dick was biased toward his brother and so he felt obligated to try and get you both together.
"Are you sure?"
Dick pinched the bridge of his nose, "Tim, she didn't even speak to me after you left because she was so upset that the guy she had a crush on brutally turned her down."
His eyes narrowed still, "Are you sure?"
This time Dick had had it. He grabbed Tim's ear, unaffected by his shouts of pain and curses at him as he dragged him toward the elevator, "Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne, you go back to that coffee shop, apologize for being a jackass and ask her out. And you better take her to a fancy ass restaurant on your first date to make up for this mess."
"Okay! Okay!" Tim conceded, finally ripping his brother's hand from his ear and he crossed his arms, "You know, this wouldn't have even happened if you hadn't been a nosy ass and followed me to the coffee shop."
"This wouldn't have happened if you weren't an idiot either."
***
Tim had been silent during the patrol and while he wasn't the most talkative, it was unlike him to be this quiet. They were already an hour into the patrol and batman had yet to hear this voice of his son over the comms, but he didn't ask about it. He'd inquire about his son's personal life after patrol when he was back to being his parent and not his partner.
Something was definitely off however, since even Nightwing was more on the quiet side of the spectrum that night, which was extremely out of the ordinary.
It all had to do with what happened right before patrol--
Tim really hoped that Jason wouldn't kill him for stealing one of his motorcycles that he left at the manor but honestly it was the fastest way for him to get to the coffee shop without getting stuck in Gotham traffic. And really if Jason didn't want anyone to be using his motorcycle, he really shouldn't have left it in the garage with the keys there for anybody to take. Hadn't he learnt his lesson after Damian had tried to take one of Bruce’s cars?
Even though there were still a couple of hours for closing time, when Tim entered the store, you were nowhere to be found. Hearing the bell, your aunt had answered from the kitchen instead, telling him that she'd be right there in a moment.
When she finally emerged, wiping her hands on her apron, she stopped, recognizing Tim as a regular but he could tell that she didn't really know anything about him or even his name, "What can I get you?"
He angled his neck, trying to see if someone was in the kitchen but when he couldn't spot anything he turned back to your aunt who waited patiently, "Um, is (Y/N) not here?"
"Ah," She shook her head, "Since it was her last day working here, I let her go early."
Oh, Tim really should've had his coffee today because the caffeine withdrawal was starting to make him hear things. He could've sworn he just heard your aunt say that it was your last day working at the coffee shop.
"Last day? What do you mean?"
Tim returned to the Batcave just in time for patrol, shoulders hunched over and a pitiful frown on his face that had answered Nightwing’s question before he could even ask how it went. He didn't say anything else, just walking over to the change rooms without so much as a glance to his father or younger brother.
Understandably, your aunt refused to give your phone number to Tim considering she had no idea of your relationship with him. If there was any relationship anymore. You clearly had every intention to not be in his life anymore if he had turned you down, explaining why you decided to confess on your last day.
He had asked your aunt to pass his number to you but there was no telling whether she actually would or if you would call him even if she did.
And in retrospect it would be fairly easy for him to find your number or address or which university you went to, but how was he meant to explain how he coincidentally managed to run into you before explaining the misunderstanding and confessing his feelings?
His mind was wracked with questions, and he continued to beat himself up for thinking that you had been flirting with Dick in the first place. If he hadn't been such an idiot, he could've avoided this whole mess and could've avoided upsetting you.
Now even if he managed to find you, there was always a possibility that his reaction managed to turn you off and change your mind.
"Woah Timmy isn't that the girl you like?"
Dick's voice cut across the unusual silence for that night, ringing in his ears so suddenly that for a second, he didn't even register what he had said.
However, when he did, it was almost comical the way his head lurched up like a meercat, spotting Nightwing’s figure a couple of buildings away and immediately grappling toward him, nearly throwing himself off the side of the terrace trying to spot you.
You stepped out of Gotham university, hands clutching a binder to your chest. Tim wasn't sure what had his heart beating faster—the sight of your frost-bitten nose, tinged red from the cold—or that you weren't alone.
You were laughing with a man who, much to Tim’s dismay, was undeniably good-looking and wearing a lab coat, which meant he was clearly smart and shared your interests and oh you both were going to get married, and he was going to be alone and coffeeless for the rest of his life.
"What are they saying?!" Tim leant over the edge of the roof like a right fool.
"This is beginning to get creepy, baby bird." Dick commented from behind him, but all Tim could tell him was to shut up because he couldn't hear just what had you giggling so animatedly.
"it's great that undergrads get a chance to be on a research team; I know it might not seem like much but it's gonna look great on your resume, (Y/N)."
You narrowed your eyes teasingly, "You're just saying that because you're relieved someone is gonna be doing the literature review and wash your empty beakers."
The junior assistant, a postgrad student was in charge of showing you around the lab and giving you a list of your responsibilities. Since it was short notice, you were going to have to learn the ropes quite quickly so as to look competent to the other professors.
He laughed, patting your shoulder and you could've sworn you heard a sound similar to a bird shrieking from above you, "You caught me there. But you'll get your name on your first research paper so that's there."
"I am but a modern-day Cinderella." You grinned, walking with him til he reached his car. He sat in the driver's seat, not yet closing the door when he called out for you just as you were beginning to walk away, "Are you sure you don't want a ride home?"
You smiled but shook your head, "No, thank you, maybe next time."
You watched him pull out of the parking space before driving away, wondering whether you should wait for the bus or just take a cab back home. The next bus wasn't for another 25 minutes, and you didn't want to wait around in the dark, however, a cab would be four times the amount you'd spend using the bus.
You suppose you could've called your father and asked him to pick you up from the university, but he had just gotten home from work, and you would hate to ask him to have to come and get you.
You sighed and muttered underneath your breath, "I should've just asked him to take me home." before beginning your trudge home. A part of you was scolding yourself for taking possibly the most dangerous route home but the other part reminded yourself that it was unlikely for anything to happen.
Besides, you had seen Nightwing patrol the area earlier that night and it was way too early for the bats to turn in for the night. With any luck, he was still roaming around here.
***
Looking back, taking a shortcut through an alleyway wasn't the smartest plan you had ever made. However, you were lucky enough because it seemed like the bats had been watching over you for the night; you didn't even have the chance to get mugged before Red Robin has scared off your potential attackers. You hadn't even noticed them creeping up behind you.
You simply stared at him, starstruck. It was the first time you had ever come into contact with the Gotham cryptids and you had least expected an encounter with the most elusive of them, Red Robin.
You had known he had black hair but through a screen it had really looked more like oily snakes that had further cemented your belief that they were demons.
But up close, his hair was soft and silky, he smelt of sweat and grime but with a slight tinge of cologne hidden underneath. You continued to stare at him, feeling like you could tattoo the sight of him onto your retinas.
"Um," You began, not sure how to even begin the conversation. Should you thank him for saving your life? Or apologize for being an inconvenience. Instead, you found yourself following his gaze to the lapel of your lab coat, only to find him staring at the Red Robin insignia pinned there. It was then you had been reminded of the same interaction with Tim Drake.
"Just so you know, you're way better looking than Tim Drake."
You were in slight awe of Red Robin and also still heartbroken over Tim Drake's scorn earlier that day, so you felt the need to settle the score with him even though it would clearly never make its way back to him.
Afterall what were the chances that the vigilante Red Robin knew the trust fund baby Tim Drake? They didn't exactly run in the same circles.
The masked man just stared at you in surprise, quite frozen after your declaration and honestly you couldn't blame him. He had just saved your life and instead of thanking him you began complimenting his good looks while at the same time insulting a completely random man, when really you had no business doing because you didn't really know what he looked like.
Though the more you stared at his face, finding your eyes drawing lines down the same jawline, cupid's bow, and nose bridge, you couldn't help but find similarities between the man you had just compared him to—
You physically shook the thought out of your head.
"Okay, then," You finished, finally turning around to walk away from him, having had enough of standing awkwardly in the middle of the alley, "Thank you agai—!"
"(Y/N), wait!" His gloved fingers clasped around your wrist, and you cut yourself off abruptly, staring up at him in surprise. It seemed his response had surprised him as well, considering the way he continued to stare at you. You couldn't really see his wide-eyed gaze due to the domino, but you could tell from the slight gap of his mouth and the raised brow.
Your lashes fluttered as you lowered your eyes to the hand still around your own, his voice echoing through your head. He had a modulator but this close to him it felt like you could hear the voice underneath it. His voice was crisper, cleaner and lighter underneath the automated depth, you could hear it just slightly through the syllables of your name.
You looked back at the whites of his mask, "How did you know my name?"
You weren't accusing him of anything, at least he didn't think so, not from your voice. You sounded genuinely curious and your eyes ping-ponged over his features, trying to find something. Then he noticed the ways they slightly narrowed before you whispered, "Tim?"
His jaw went slack, eyes going so comically wide now that you had just known you knocked the hammer right on the head. He took a step back, finally releasing your hand and you cupped your gaping mouth, in shock yourself.
"Wait seriously?! I was just guessing! Why on earth would you make it so obvious!" You chastised.
"I’m sorry, ok?! I didn't have any coffee today and so my brain isn't braining today!"
You crossed your arms over your chest, "And who's fault is that? You're the one who stormed out of the cafe after rejecting me—after I literally gave your drinks for free!"
Red Robin—Tim winced, rubbing the back of his neck as his gaze fluttered guiltily away from yours, "That was...not my best moment."
"Not your best moment? You acted like I spat on your whole family and condemned you to death!" Okay perhaps you were being a tad bit dramatic, but it had been an extremely long day, and you kept being presented with new information which was a lot to take.
You were just a girl, for god's sake!
"Ok, in my defense, I thought you were confessing to my brother—not me! So, if anything, I was upset that you might like my family a little too much!" He retaliated and you gaped at him, incredulous.
"You are just—wow, unbelievable." You finally breathed. Truthfully, you didn't know what to even do now, something told you that you weren't going to be able to walk home completely unharmed. Since you knew his identity, the worst that could happen was that one of his bat friends was hanging over you to put you out of your misery. Best case scenario, you'd sign an NDA and be on your merry way home.
"I’m sorry, (Y/N). This is all my fault, I was being an idiot earlier and I got insecure cuz I thought you were asking out my brother which stung cuz I’ve been crushing on you for like months now." He finally admitted, holding his gaze low.
If you hadn’t been deafened by the sound of your heart pounding wildly in your chest at his confession, you would’ve given him a hard time about how nervous he seemed—just as you had been before he so brutally turned you down.
"You like me?" Your question, simple as it was, still managed to make Tim's heartrate escalate.
"Yes—I mean, of course—How could I not?"
You blushed, a gleeful response already on the tip of your tongue. Well, you would have, if you hadn’t suddenly been shrouded in a bat-shaped shadow that had you instinctively pressing yourself closer to Tim.
"Oh, I’m so dead." Tim muttered under his breath the second he had caught the figure of his father standing atop a building, having heard everything over the comms.
Your eyes widened and you stepped closer to him, a hand tightening around the utility belt strapped to his chest. You had remembered the rumours of what had happened to the second robin.
Tim's attention was snapped back to you the second he heard your sharp intake of breath, "N-Not literally, really (Y/N). I’m probably just gonna get grounded."
That got you to loosen your grip with a relieved sigh, relaxing and letting go.
"Grounded? As in Red Robin is grounded. Or Tim Drake?"
"Probably Tim Drake, Red Robin is still needed in the field. Maybe both." He admitted with a wince, and you have him a gentle pat on the chest that was meant to be a kind of 'there, there'. He gave you a small smile, gloved fingers holding the hand to his chest.
"I suppose our first date will have to wait, huh?"
Tim would be lying if a part of him hadn't kind of expected you to rethink everything. I mean, he had been so mean to you when turning you down after jumping to wild conclusions at no fault of your own. Then there was also his secret that he had been stupid enough to reveal to you.
You didn't deserve this; you deserved much better.
Still these thoughts were extremely fleeting, easily overthrown by his feeling of giddiness and outright joy, a blinding grin taking over his face.
"I guess so. I'll make it up to you, though—Dinner's on me."
You scoffed, "It better be, I’m standing in an alley 15 minutes past curfew with the identity of one of the illusive bats all because you thought I had a thing for your brother."
If his cheeks weren't already bitten from the cold, you would have watched as they went aflame, "I was young and stupid."
"It was this morning!"
"I was eight hours younger."
***
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More Posts from Bbsaeko and Others
Tired Timmy
Pairing: Tim Drake x reader
Warnings: None
Summary: Fluff- When you return from a mission, you realize how tired Tim is and get him to sleep.
Note: Found this in my drafts and idk what it was doing there so here ya go
Word Count: 1598
Tonight, was an especially cold night. Snow fell over the city and blanketed everything in sight. You had just gotten back from a mission in the Amazon and was on break from patrol duty. Aside from getting used to the change in climate from where you were versus where you are now, you were worried about Tim. Of course, he was relieved that you were back safe and sound, he told you as much, but he seemed especially stressed as of lately. It wasn’t uncommon for him to stress about you leaving for a mission without him, but even coming back didn’t seem to stall his emotions.
“How’s it going Timmy?” You asked in the comms, watching the surveillance cameras from around the city.
“mmm” he grumbled in response
“That good huh?” You started snickering at his response, “Only thirty more minutes and then you can come crash.”
“Good to know.” He said as you watched him haphazardly swing from one building to another, “any leads on the Riddler case?”
“A few, I’m pretty sure he and Penguin are in cahoots again. I’d say that they’re getting ready for a heist. Give them three weeks tops.” Tim heard paper being tossed around as you combed through the case files regarding your suspicions, “We can go over them when you’re rested.”
“I’ll be fine.” Tim said, “We’ll talk about it when I get back.”
You weren’t going to argue with him. Tim could be stubborn about working and you didn’t want him angry on patrol, especially when he was this tired. It was a good way of making sure that he came home injured.
“Dick, make sure that Tim doesn’t throw himself off a building or something.” You said on a private link.
“I’m always on it, Y/N/N.” He replied in a chipper tone, “You see it too?”
“Yeah,” you leaned back in your chair, watching as the boys ran through the city, “I’ll pick his brain on it when you guys get back. Just make sure he comes back in one piece.”
“Will do.”
You logged into the computer database on Penguin and Riddler’s recent moves, trying to pinpoint connections to them. It was late and you told Alfred to go to sleep so there was only Damian’s pets keeping you company. The first sign of extra life was the sounds of the Batmobile roaring through the underground tunnels. Sometimes, depending on how fast Bruce was going, the walls would vibrate and shake. Dust from the cave’s ceiling would fall onto the floor and in the air as he came flying into the garage. Today it was mundane, and no dust came off the walls. You heard the mechanical sliding of the doors opening and two pairs of heavy footsteps before the sound of two other engines roared through the cave.
“How’s the investigation going?” Bruce asked, raking through the papers as Damian picked up Alfred the cat from the chair arm rest.
“It’s moving along nicely. I think they’re going for the new diamond exhibit downtown. I don’t know why anyone exhibits anything valuable in this city anymore.”
Bruce gave a stiff chuckle before patting you on the back, “Good work, turn in for the night, you need rest.”
Bruce started walking off as Tim came up and leaned over the side rest.
“Hey babe.” He tipped your chin to give you a kiss.
“How was patrol?” You asked, already knowing the answer.
“It was fine.” He said, pulling up a chair next to you.
“You seem exhausted.” “Timmy let’s go to bed. We need rest.”
“Looks aren’t always as they appear Y/N/N.” He mindlessly ran his fingers through your hair and stared at you, “What do you have on the case?”
You knew there was nothing you could do to get Tim to go to bed at this point. It was time for plan “yapping to death”. Talking fast, you told him everything you had. There was no repeating what you had said, and you started flipping through the papers as fast as possible without raising suspicion. You had the clocks set to look like a later time, making sure that Tim would think it was later than it was. It was obvious when the plan was working since you saw Tim’s unfocused eyes start wandering around the cave. When it got to this point, Tim would finally decide it was time to rest.
“Does that make sense?” You asked, thumbing over his fingers, “I’ve got the schematics of the-“
“Y/N/N, it makes sense but, uh, I’m not focusing anymore.”
“Do you wanna go to bed?” You asked, searching for any sign of resistance in his eyes, “Come on.”
You stood up and pulled him out of the chair, he leaned into you and let his weight rest against you.
“Sorry, you just got back from a mission, you must be sore.” He said, leaning off you.
“It’s okay Timmy, I’m alright.” You hugged him and led him upstairs, “Come on, I’ll get you to bed.”
“M’ not a baby, I can’t get there myself.” He mumbled into your shoulder before pausing, “That came out snappy.”
“You’re fine Tim. I know you’re tired.”
“I’m fine.”
Again, you didn’t say anything back, but instead led him up the next flight of stairs and into his room. Leaving him to grab his clothes, you walked into the bathroom and started the shower. When the water was warm enough, you opened the door to tell Tim it was ready. He walked in before calling you back in, the softness of his voice showing how tired he was.
“Hey um, you haven’t showered yet either have you?” He asked, crossing his arms with a towel wrapped around his waist.
“I showered after dinner Tim.” You said, raising a brow.
“Oh yea.” There was a silence in the room for a few seconds.
“But, if you insist, I can’t say no.” This made Tim chuckle a bit before you shut the door and he dropped the towel before he got into the shower himself.
You quickly undressed and opened the glass door, joining Tim in the hot stream of water. Tim leaned his head against your shoulder and sighed deeply.
“I’m tired.” He admitted, wrapping his arms around you, relishing in the heat of the water and the closeness of you.
“I gathered as much.” “You’ve been over working yourself recently. I told Dick to make sure you didn’t run yourself to death before I got back.”
“It’s not Dick’s fault.” He said, “I have my ways.”
“Oh, I know.” You laughed, making Tim laugh with you.
“I’m glad you’re back. I thought I’d kill someone for the past three weeks.”
“I’m glad to be back too. Also, glad you didn’t kill anyone, that would be unfortunate.” You started running shampooed hands through his hair, washing the dirt and grime down the drain.
Tim closed his eyes and let the water run over his head, washing away the soap and eventually the conditioner that you ran through his hair. He began to wash himself, making sure not to run over the bruises on his torso. Tim gave you a quick glance before double taking. “What’s this from?” He asked, running a soapy finger over a stitched wound on your stomach, “I haven’t seen it.”
“Got grazed by a blade during the mission.” “One of the assassins got the best of Cassie and I jumped in front of her.”
“It looks painful.” “I’ve been leaning on you this entire time, are you hurt anywhere else?” He spun you around and started looking for signs of other injuries.
“Besides a few bruises, I’m fine. You’re fine Timmy; I’m not hurt.”
“This doesn’t look fine. Why did you tell me?” He asked
“I didn’t want to worry you, you’re exhausted.” The rest of the soap ran off the two of you and into the drain, “I didn’t want you stressing yourself out.”
“I’m sorry.” Tim said honestly, “You said to get rest but I totally didn’t.”
“Tim I’m not upset with you. I know it’s your job and you feel passionately about it, I’m just worried you don’t sleep, it’ll get you hurt on the field.”
“I know you’re right.”
“Come on, let’s get dress and go to bed. I don’t think I have a change of clothes in here.” You said grabbing two towels from the heated rack.
“I brought you some sweats.” Tim replied with a smirk.
“Oh, so you’re admitting that you planned this all along?” You laughed nudging him jokingly.
“Just the shower.”
When you had dried off totally, you walked back into the bedroom and turned the fan on. Walking back to the bed, you saw that Tim was already getting into bed. His eyes were fluttering shut and opening again, over, and over. He turned his head to you and spread out, getting comfortable.
“I’m tired.” He said softly.
“I know love.” You climbed next to him and reached over him to turn the lamp off.
“That’s a good view babe.” Tim said with a smirk in his voice before you leaned back onto your side.
“Glad you approve.”
You laid down, pulling Tim closer to you. He put his head into the crook of your neck and took a deep breath before wrapping his legs around you. Pushing the covers over his shoulders, you ran your fingers through his hair, watching as his breath evened out and his body relaxed.
“I’m exhausted. Can’t sleep without you” he said in a whisper.
“I know Timmy, but you can sleep now.”
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ 𓇼 ࣪ ʏ ᴏ ᴜ ɴ ɢ ʟ ᴏ ᴠ ᴇ 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒⠀
Pairing: Robins x Fem Reader
Headcanon: How would they be as your boyfriend?
Characters: Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Damian Wayne.
Note: English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!
:¨ ·.· ¨:⠀ ㅤ Dick Grayson ׅ ♡ 𝄒!
Affection Overload: Dick is all about physical affection. Hugs, kisses, holding hands—he’s constantly touching you. If you’re in public, expect him to have an arm around your waist or your hand in his at all times.
Grand Gestures: He loves making big romantic statements. Random flowers delivered to your class? Check. Swinging into your bedroom window just to say goodnight? Double check.
Jealousy Level: Surprisingly chill, but only because he’s confident. If someone flirts with you, he’ll swoop in with a smug smile and casually remind them that you’re his.
Protective Side: He’s sweet and easygoing most of the time, but the second he thinks you’re in danger, he turns into serious protector mode. He’s not above scaring people off if necessary.
Clingy but Cute: He hates being away from you. Even if you’re just apart for a day, he’ll text or call constantly. "Miss me yet? Because I miss you."
The Cheerleader Boyfriend: Dick is your biggest fan. Whether you’re pursuing a hobby, trying something new, or just having a bad day, he’s there hyping you up like, “You’re amazing, don’t forget that.”
Drama King: If you ever fight, expect him to show up at your door with flowers, chocolates, and the saddest puppy-dog eyes you’ve ever seen. He cannot stand the idea of you being upset with him.
:¨ ·.· ¨:⠀ ㅤ Jason Todd ׅ ♡ 𝄒!
Acts Tough but Is a Softie: Jason tries to play it cool, but deep down, he’s so soft for you. You’ll catch him staring at you like you hung the moon, and he’ll deny it every time.
Overprotective: Jason is feral when it comes to your safety. If anyone so much as looks at you the wrong way, he’s ready to throw hands. “You okay, babe? Need me to deal with them?”
Big on Small Gestures: He’s not a grand-gesture kind of guy, but he’ll quietly leave your favorite snacks on your desk or slip a note into your bag that says, "Have a good day, idiot."
Jealousy Level: Off the charts. Jason tries to play it cool, but the second someone flirts with you, his hand is on your waist, and his glare is lethal.
Supportive but Real: Jason is your rock. He’ll always be there for you, but he’s not afraid to call you out if he thinks you’re being too hard on yourself. “Stop beating yourself up. You’re amazing. End of story.”
Loves Quiet Time Together: He’s happiest when it’s just the two of you curled up on the couch, watching movies or reading. Those moments mean the world to him.
Secretly Romantic: Jason pretends he’s not into cheesy romance, but he’ll randomly do something that makes your heart melt, like showing up with a book he thought you’d like or quoting poetry at the most unexpected times.
:¨ ·.· ¨:⠀ ㅤ Damian Wayne ׅ ♡ 𝄒!
Awkwardly Affectionate: Damian isn’t great at expressing his feelings verbally, so his affection comes in the form of small, thoughtful actions. He’ll make sure your tea is brewed perfectly or bring you handmade gifts.
Possessive but Polite: Damian hates sharing your attention. If someone flirts with you, he’ll politely (but firmly) remind them who you belong to. “I believe you’re wasting your time. She’s spoken for.”
Jealousy Level: High but controlled. Instead of losing his temper, he’ll subtly outshine whoever is trying to steal your attention. “Ah, yes, you’ve met my girlfriend. Isn’t she magnificent?”
Protective in a Subtle Way: He’s not loud about it, but Damian is always watching out for you. If someone wrongs you, he’ll handle it quietly and efficiently. “You’ll find they’re no longer a problem.”
Always Wants to Impress You: Damian is constantly trying to prove himself to you, whether it’s through his art, his fighting skills, or his intellect. He’s desperate for your approval, even if he pretends he’s not.
Secretly Vulnerable: Behind his confident exterior, Damian is terrified of losing you. He doesn’t know how to handle those emotions, so he’ll sometimes withdraw until you reassure him.
Over-the-Top Romantic in Private: When it’s just the two of you, Damian lets his walls down. He’ll read you poetry, kiss your hand, and whisper how much you mean to him.
How They’re Similar:
All of them are incredibly protective of you and hate seeing you hurt or upset.
They’re obsessed with making you happy and will go out of their way to ensure you feel loved.
Whether they’re soft and sweet or intense and dramatic, they all love you with their whole heart—and they’re not afraid to show it.
@ʀᴏᴛᴛᴇɴꜰʏʀᴇ 2024. ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴏʀ ᴜꜱᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴡᴇʙꜱɪᴛᴇꜱ.
𝒘𝒉𝒚 𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒏’𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒔𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒆? 𝒘𝒉𝒚 𝒅𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒎𝒆?
![Damian Wayne Comes Across A Classic Christmas Carol Known Well Among The Children Of Gotham… Pt [1/?]](https://64.media.tumblr.com/b40f7b4d850954cd420591d27964c2dc/50412e96adfa4b40-2f/s500x750/83e1c649dfd8a44d78b2256a28231697e785fdc9.png)
![Damian Wayne Comes Across A Classic Christmas Carol Known Well Among The Children Of Gotham… Pt [1/?]](https://64.media.tumblr.com/a27a2332f31ccf8995de0b586034d938/50412e96adfa4b40-2d/s500x750/f2ff20200e34491a49fca5fc28d818996c137df3.png)
![Damian Wayne Comes Across A Classic Christmas Carol Known Well Among The Children Of Gotham… Pt [1/?]](https://64.media.tumblr.com/fdf582fb2a0a1b15ea05c571264477fe/50412e96adfa4b40-80/s500x750/81e3c112116c733550694c09740c1e38d6695811.png)
![Damian Wayne Comes Across A Classic Christmas Carol Known Well Among The Children Of Gotham… Pt [1/?]](https://64.media.tumblr.com/32bf901cc27e7073b19018d0e571f4cf/50412e96adfa4b40-44/s500x750/f4fd86ea90bbbe40e108f4db6ebd8235e668c293.png)
![Damian Wayne Comes Across A Classic Christmas Carol Known Well Among The Children Of Gotham… Pt [1/?]](https://64.media.tumblr.com/d6e12cfc6d62f718d5a33fcb0ad2fad3/50412e96adfa4b40-10/s500x750/9cd0c55f11675588ee7f44be3310f42eb0c975a6.png)
![Damian Wayne Comes Across A Classic Christmas Carol Known Well Among The Children Of Gotham… Pt [1/?]](https://64.media.tumblr.com/c25b2b3748fa0de9d23748e7f6f43328/50412e96adfa4b40-f1/s500x750/ae40197a04802993f97ff215615e7a6839b5072e.png)
Damian Wayne comes across a classic christmas carol known well among the children of gotham… pt [1/?]
We need a part two of the harley quinn mother headcanons!
SUGAR & SPICE!
pairings ⸺ Mother! Harley Quinn x Teen! Reader.
(PLATONIC FIC)
¿Request? Yes!
This is a Headcanon!
sinopsis ⸺ Every mother reaches the moment when she sees her chick starting to become independent from the nest. Harley loved you from the moment she found you in that abandoned alley, and now she finds it hard to accept that you are drifting away.
If she knew why you were leaving her behind, she would probably be thinking about putting Robin in the oven.
warnings ⸺ Fluff and Angst, Platonic Cuddling, ¿OOC Harley? Idk, Disturbing Content, Street Fights, Violence, Trauma.
A/N ── Honestly, I didn't plan on making a continuation of that headcanon, but since you asked (and your requests are sacred to me), here it is! Shoutout to @animequeen4 for the inspiration too!
When you grow up as the child of one of the most notorious supervillains in Gotham, things get a bit complicated. Harley knew this since you entered school, and especially since she separated from the Joker. She had prepared for everything: to protect you from clowns, snakes, and even snakes disguised as clowns. But what she didn't see coming, what truly drove her crazy, was the biggest challenge of all: your adolescence.
Harley noticed it almost immediately. At first, it was small things. Like how you no longer wanted to listen to the music she played at full volume in the lair. Instead, you started listening to your own songs, the ones she described as "unbearable noise." Then came the decoration of your room, which went from posters of heroes and villains to something "weird," according to Harley. “Since when do you like bats so much?” she would say with an eyebrow raised. But what broke her heart the most was when you stopped letting her dress you. She got frustrated every time she tried to put something on you that she thought looked great, and you would just say, "No, mom, I don't like that anymore."
But the worst, the worst of all, was when you entered high school. You made friends. Friends whose names Harley didn't even know. Horrible! For someone like her, who was used to knowing all the details of your life, that was the worst that could happen. And on top of that, you no longer asked for permission to do things! The worst part was that she had raised you "well" (according to her criteria), so she didn't understand how you ended up at the police station several times for vandalism and disturbances.
"I raised you better than this!" she would shout, completely indignant, while signing the papers to get you out of another detention. Inside, she knew you were going through that rebellious phase, but that didn't make it any easier to cope.
One day, Harley stood at the door of your room, frustrated because you didn't even ask her for help with your math problems anymore. She stared at you, her hands on her hips, and exclaimed, “Look, little birdie, I get you! I know you're growing up and all that, but can you please stop doing it so fast? You're slipping through my fingers!”
It was a mix of desperation and tenderness. Harley wasn't ready to see you grow up. She knew you were becoming more independent, but in her heart, you would always be her little one. And even though she got frustrated with all these changes, with every new friend or every time you snuck out to go to a party, deep down she just wanted to make sure you were okay.
Puberty was a roller coaster, and Harley was starting to realize that nothing in her villain life had prepared her to deal with it. The first thing she noticed was that you no longer wanted to go out with her for taco Fridays with the girls. Those days when they went shopping, wore neon clothes, and had laughs while window shopping stopped being your thing. Harley watched you from the doorframe, taco in hand, saying, “What happened to my buddy? Where's the kid who loved to eat until stuffed full of carnitas?”
Sometimes, Harley tried not to take it to heart, but it was hard. She crumbled a little every time you locked yourself in your room instead of watching her roll around on the sofas with the Birds of Prey or with the Sirens, planning their next crazy scheme. It was then that she realized she needed help. So, as a good mother (or as close as she could get), she turned to the only person who could understand her frustration... Catwoman.
But the chat with Selina wasn’t exactly helpful. “Harley, sweetheart, I don’t mix with kids. I don’t know what you want me to tell you, mine has four legs and purrs,” Selina said, taking a sip of her martini while checking out a new leather whip. It was a "thanks, but no thanks," and Harley left with more questions than answers.
Next stop: Ivy. Harley had high hopes that Ivy, with her serenity and green wisdom, would give her the key to understanding you better. But Ivy just shrugged and said, “Plants grow, Harley. Just like kids. You can't stop the natural process.” Harley frowned. “And what do I do when they doesn’t want to tell me who he's with all day?” Ivy, very zen, replied, “You could always... spy ” It wasn't exactly the help she was looking for.
After exhausting her resources with the girls, Harley did the unthinkable: she turned to Batman. Yes, Batman! In a conversation that turned out to be as awkward as it was effective, the Dark Knight explained to her what he had learned from raising his multiple Robins: “It's part of growing up. You just have to be there, but give them space. You can't control everything.”
Harley, of course, took it with her usual dramatism: “Give them space!? But they doesn’t even want to go for tacos anymore!?” It was as if the world had turned upside down.
Meanwhile, at school, things weren’t going smoothly either. Your new “friends” were... questionable. People that Harley, if she had known, would have kicked out. But, for your luck (or misfortune), those friends didn’t last long. In the end, the problems they brought with them distanced you from them, and unexpectedly, you found yourself spending more time with Damian again. Harley, of course, had no idea about this. To her, Damian was just the rude boy you sometimes talked to.
There was always something about him that intrigued you, and despite his constant grumbling and "I don't care" attitude, you managed to see beyond that. Between talks about anything (and often about nothing), Damian became someone important to you. Harley had no idea about this mini romance, because if she did, she would probably already be plotting a plan to scare the Wayne boy. “If you think he’s cute, go for it,” she had once said with a mischievous wink. And although she didn't think you would take it seriously, here you were, emotionally entangled with Batman’s son, even though at that time you didn't know he was Batman's son.
It all started with an idea that, in retrospect, wasn’t the best: throwing paint cans at Robin. In your defense, it sounded like a funny prank at the moment. What you didn't calculate was that Robin, being Damian Wayne, wasn’t exactly easy to evade. You ran as if your life depended on it, covering almost twenty kilometers, and the most frustrating part was that he wasn’t even sweating. Every time you turned to see if you had lost him, there he was, impeccable, with that unfriendly look and his expression of "When I catch you, say goodbye to your legs."
When he finally threw you to the ground, ready to give you the lesson of your life, you looked at him more closely. That perfectly styled hair, that look of a thousand deaths, and the sarcasm in every phrase... "Damian?!" you shouted, more out of disbelief than fear. Because, of course, it turns out your boyfriend wasn’t just a rude jerk, but also the damn Robin. The pieces finally fell into place, and you didn’t know whether to laugh or feel betrayed. In the end, you did both.
"What the hell were you thinking?" he reprimanded you with that authoritative voice he usually reserved for criminals and his family. "Throwing paint? Seriously?"
The funny thing is that, even though you were completely exhausted from the chase, your brain didn’t stop working. So instead of apologizing like a normal person, you shrugged and said, "At least it wasn't green paint. That would have been offensive." He didn’t find it so funny.
From that moment on, the romantic dates became something much more... practical. Damian decided that if you were going to get into trouble, at least you should know how to defend yourself, so starry night strolls turned into intense self-defense training sessions. "Nothing says 'I love you' like a well-placed punch," you thought every time Damian corrected your stance. And although at first you considered it the least romantic of gestures, there was something sweet about how he insisted on keeping you safe.
Of course, these "dates" weren’t just training. Eventually, you met Jon Kent, the super-sweet boy who contrasted so much with Damian's serious personality. The trio you formed was a disaster waiting to happen, yet somehow it worked. Between secret missions, night escapades, and 'lots of fun,' the three of you became inseparable. But it was all super secret, because if Batman found out, well, the reprimand wouldn’t be exactly gentle. And Harley... well, don’t even think about what Harley would say if she found out.
But Harley, being Harley, didn’t take long to notice the changes. For her, it was alarming to see how her kid, her little birdie, was starting to come home late through the window, with two colors in his hair that reminded her a bit of her own lifestyle, and some bruises that you, of course, tried to hide. "Did you fall down the stairs again? Seriously?" she would ask skeptically while helping you tend to your wounds.
Her biggest fear wasn’t that you would get into minor trouble, but that he would have come back. Harley began to suspect that the Joker had found you, and that kept her in a constant state of alert. She watched you more closely, trying not to show it, but it was obvious. Nights with Damian always seemed to fly by. Between training, talks, and that connection you both shared, the hours slipped away without either of you noticing. That was how it happened that one particular night, after a long and exhausting session, he decided to walk you home. Not that you needed it, you were perfectly capable of getting home on your own (or so you said), but Damian liked to make sure you got home safely. Plus, it was an excuse to spend more time together.
It was already four in the morning, and you were ready to say goodbye with a kiss when suddenly, three giant hyenas sprang out from under your bed, and Harley, in full ninja mode, dropped from the ceiling with a baseball bat in hand. "WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?!"
You had to close the window, leaving Damian outside, to prevent your mom and the hyenas from getting to the "mom, chill," you tried to calm her, putting yourself between them. "It's not what it looks like."
"Oh no! It looks like you're turning into a mini-Harley with a boyfriend and everything, and I'm not going to sit back and watch how they break your heart like that stupid clown broke mine!"
But you managed to slow her down, and with Harley calmed down (more or less), the tension of the moment seemed to dissolve, but she didn’t stop there. The next morning, she showed up at the Batcave (Only God knows how she found the Batcave), furious, and ready to confront Batman for allowing his son to "seduce" her little birdie. "What kind of father lets his son stay out late with my kid?! This is unacceptable!"
Bruce, who was busy with his screens, barely looked up. He listened to Harley’s furious monologue while maintaining his typical calm posture, nodding from time to time. When Harley finished, he just raised his thumb calmly, as if giving his approval. "Damian has good taste," was all he said.
"That doesn’t help me, Bats!" Harley exclaimed, frustrated. But Bruce, in his minimalist style, simply added, "You... should spend more time with your kid, Harley. Don’t worry so much. And if you need help, just let me know."
Harley was left speechless. It wasn’t the response she expected, but deep down, she knew Batman was right. She sighed and, resigned, left without more than a warning for Bruce: "Just because you told me that doesn’t mean I won’t hit you with my bat if things go wrong."
But the truth is that as Harley made her way home, she reflected a little. You were growing up, and although she didn’t like it, it was part of life. You couldn’t be her little one forever, and while the fear of losing you was always present, she knew she had to trust you. After all, she had raised you well (in her own way), and now she could only let you fly a little, like that little bird she often mentioned.
Back at home, she found you lying on the couch, still with some paint in your hair from the prank on Damian. Harley watched you for a while, noticing how much you had grown. Not just in height, but in attitude. The way you had started to move through the world, making your own decisions, forming relationships outside the little universe she had built for you. And that, even though she sometimes denied it, hurt her a little. She sat on the edge of the couch, sighing as she stroked your messy hair.
Harley noticed it before anyone. First, you stopped getting excited about taco Fridays with the girls or going out to dye your hair neon. Then, it was the uncomfortable silence when you no longer sought her advice for anything. You had become more independent, but Harley only saw you drifting away.
Harley sighed and looked at you with a mix of nostalgia and worry. “You’re growing up... and even though I hate it, I know I can’t stop it. I just want you to know that you will always be my little birdie. No matter how big you get, you will always have a place with me.”
You stayed silent, noticing how difficult it was for her to say it. Harley had been many things, but she had never stopped being your mother. You smiled at her and nodded, feeling a familiar warmth in your chest. "I love you too, mom. I promise I’m not drifting away, I’m just... growing."
Harley gave you a tight hug, and in that moment, you knew that even though everything might change, you would always find that common ground, whether it was stealing marshmallows or just sharing a night under the stars. "Puberty sucks," Harley joked, and for the first time in a long time, you both laughed together.
As the hug lingered, you felt how the outside world faded away, leaving only Harley and you in a bubble of safety and love. "I’ll be here, always ready for you, even if sometimes I’m a little... crazy,” she replied with a soft laugh. “But you know that’s what makes everything more fun, right?”
You nodded, and inside, the worry you had felt about drifting away from her faded. There was comfort in knowing that even though the road ahead might be complicated and full of challenges, you had a beacon lighting your way. A mother who, with her craziness and unconditional love, would always guide you home.
"Let’s promise to do more things together, then," you said with determination. "No matter if it’s stealing candy or painting our nails bright colors. There will always be time for that."
"Deal," said Harley, raising her pinky as if sealing a pact. You smiled and linked it with yours. The connection you shared was stronger than any challenge you could face.
"And when it’s time to face the world, I’ll be your ally," she added, a spark of determination shining in her eyes. "Because we will be a team, always."
After that, everything changed, but for the better. Learning to divide your time between everything you loved wasn’t easy, but you knew you would succeed. After all, you had the strongest support: that of your strange yet endearing family, that of your partner, and above all, that of the best mother you could have ever dreamed of.
A/N ─── Thank you so much for reading! If you'd like to request anything, don't hesitate to ask. I read all of your comments and questions!
Take a Bath!
wow
Loving on Jason Todd after a long night of patrol.
He's sitting in the bathtub, the water pooling around his limbs stained pink from all the blood washing off his skin—none is his, and you're thankful for that.
Your hands gently scrub his hair as he sighs, relaxing against the white porcelain. You take extra care in scrubbing the sweat from the white streak in his night-black hair. Soap-lathered fingers scrape at his scalp, gently ridding the grime of the Gotham streets from his body.
It's nothing sexual when you help him wash, running a cloth over his arms and legs and scarred chest, taking careful measures to not go too hard over the 'Y' that runs under his pecs and down his belly. You kiss his heart, and he breathes a huff of relief at the sheer domesticated feel of it all.
Jason loves being pampered by your hands, the ones that have never harmed him. He feels safe, even though he is in his most vulnerable state. He'll lazily follow the motions of your hands with his eyes with a little grin on his lips, leaning into every touch, soaking in every soft word.
My boy, you call him, and the world seems all sunshine and rainbows for as long as you're with him. He wishes you'd stay forever, be his forever.
Jason loves you a little too much.
BATBOYS’ reaction to you asking to do their makeup
Bruce Wayne:
- Would give you a gruff, “No.”
- He loves you, but that’s simply not something he’s interested in.
- You bring it up a few more times and the answer is always the same.
- And then one day, he stares at you while you’re sitting at the expensive vanity he bought you, watching you as you do your eyeliner.
- “You can put that on me,” he says after a few moments of mental gymnastics.
- You turn towards him, slightly surprised. “Huh?”
- He’s not fond of repeating himself, so he’d just pat his thigh.
- You’re getting up, because this is a chance of a lifetime, and you quickly settle yourself on his lap.
- His hands hold your hips. He looks at you with those pretty blue eyes expectantly.
- “Do you want a cat eye? Smokey?” You cup his jaw with your free hand, tilting it.
- He grunts in response. Probably a “be quiet and do it” grunt.
- He waits patiently as your fingers work, following your soft-spoken instructions to close his eyelids or look up. Other than that, he’s not moving an inch.
- You do something simple—just under his waterline, above his top eyelashes.
- When you're done, you drag him over to the mirror. You weren’t sure what his reaction would be.
- “Hm.” The noise is acknowledging, not displeased.
- You smile at him. “Do you like it?”
- There’s a difference between liking it and not being bothered by it.
- Still, he gives you an imperceptible nod. Just to see you smile wider.
- He didn’t take it off for patrol. His kids teased him about it, and Alfred had a barely-concealed humored expression.
- It’s the only thing he’ll let you do. He doesn’t ask, but at this point, he expects you to put it on.
- It’s a reminder of you while he’s out, that you’re waiting for him to come back.
Dick Grayson:
- He would probably ask you to do it, instead of the other way around.
- Just out of curiosity.
- But if you brought it up first, he’s immediately sitting.
- “Make me look pretty,” as if he already isn’t.
- He’d let you do what you want, however he’ll mention how certain colors don’t look good on him.
- Wouldn’t protest if you did a full face. He feels like a pampered princess, and he definitely enjoys the attention you’re giving him.
- He needs progress updates, and information on what you’re using.
- He’ll try to make you annoyed by shutting his eyes when you tell him not to, or talking in the middle of lipstick application.
- “Do you want to be gorgeous or not?” you huff.
- Yes, he does. He quickly stops.
- When you’re done, he’s gasping at himself, fluttering his lashes.
- He wants to match with you, so he offers to do yours.
- Sits in your lap, just like you did with him.
- It’s…a process.
- But it’s not half bad.
- You both take selfies together.
- He’s your devoted expirementee, now.
- He sets himself up by sending some of the photos to the Bat-Family group chat.
- Gets hounded on by Jason. Heavily.
- Does he care? Absolutely not. They are totally jealous.
Jason Todd:
- He’s going to laugh in your face. Sorry.
- And then it turns into confusion when he sees how serious you are.
- He’d shut it down, at first, but he keeps thinking about it for some reason.
- Secretly scrolls on his phone to look at things that he might like.
- Eventually, he approaches you, inspiration picture in hand, and says, “It has to look exactly like this or you’re fired.”
- It’s simple: light eyeshadow, some eyeliner. Stuff that isn’t super heavy and is still “masculine”.
- He can hear the teasing he’d hypothetically endure from everyone as you do it. It pisses him off.
- And then you murmur praises like, “You’re so handsome,” and suddenly he doesn’t care. It’s for you.
- Despite his lighthearted threat, he requests more things, just so you can keep giving him attention.
- Like Grayson, he’d question what you were using. He’d throw in some stupid comments about how using your fingers to apply stuff would be easier.
- When you’re finished and show him, he doesn’t actually mind it.
- “You didn’t fuck it up,” he mumbles.
- He’ll let you do it again. He finds himself enjoying it—the feeling of your soft brushes against his skin, and how you’d gently guide his head to where you want it.
- One time, while you were perched on his lap, focusing on applying, the door opened. Dick was mid-sentence before he finally processed what was going on.
- “Oh, wow.”
- To make things worse, he snapped a picture and suddenly you were moved off of Jason’s lap.
- Cue the super unnecessary and dramatic chase in an attempt to get Grayson to delete it.
Tim Drake:
- He’d look flustered. Why?
- You’d have to explain it’s just for fun, and how you’re bored.
- He’ll begrudgingly agree. He supposed there’s no harm.
- He wants you to tell him what you’re doing as you work. He’s nervous, like you’re going to poke him in the eye or something.
- You don’t want him to be uncomfortable, so you ask, “Do you want me to stop?”
- Well, your presence and warmth on his lap is enjoyable, and he shakes his head.
- It has his brain quiet down. He just listens to you. He absentmindedly leans into your touch sometimes.
- “Do you want glitter?”
- “I do want glitter,” he murmurs. The sentence has his cheeks heat up. When has he ever wanted glitter?
- Of course you don’t tease him, even if it’s cute.
- After you finish, he isn’t sure how to react. He gives an awkward smile.
- “It would look better on you.”
- While you put away your makeup, it seems everyone decided they needed him for something.
- He honestly forgot he had it on, so he’s confused why Jason is laughing and Dick is trying not to. Damian looks as amused as he can get.
- Bruce, a clueless bypasser, pauses for a moment. He makes an inquisitive hum before he keeps walking.
- You force all of them to apologize and send them on their way. Tim, who is so very embarrassed, gets an extra amount of love from you.
Damian Wayne:
- Damian would stare you down for an unholy amount of time, like you just said the stupidest thing he’s ever heard.
- He’s expecting you to backtrack, to take it back. It is a stupid idea.
- But you’re immune. You give him a soft smile. “Please?”
- He dislikes how easily he gives in. Very, very much.
- He grumbles a lot, insulting you, even as he holds still.
- He lists things you owe him for letting you do this. A lot of them are said just to mess with you.
- At some point, he gets less irritated. It’s only because he’s grown tired of wasting his breath.
- You give him the handheld mirror when you’re done, and he takes a long while to inspect himself. He doesn’t care about the fact that there’s winged eyeliner on his face, he cares that they are uneven.
- He gives you criticism. Actual, somewhat informative criticism.
- “You need to blend outwards, not in.”
- He makes you fix it until there’s no mistakes.
- It’s actually a weird and kind of unbelievable experience for you.
- You are never doing it again—you wanted to have fun, not be reprimanded.
- He still has it on when Alfred calls for dinner.
- They all kind of stare. They’re too confused to comment.
- “Am I high?” Jason whispers quietly.
- The only thing Damian says is, “Can someone pass me the salt?”
doing their nails
he is so. so. so
every passing day, I thank God for rc making greg's eyes dark brown and not garorade blue or plutonium green
like look at him!!!! so gorgeous 😍
MHA ways they would kiss you.
with: tenya iida, katsuki bakugou, kirishima eijirou, izuku midoriya, shoto todoroki, sero hanta, denki kamanari, hitoshi shinso
LABELS: kissy kissy, slightly suggestive.
…
TENYA IIDA ✧.*
a strained, hoarse whisper “kiss me”
KATSUKI BAKUGOU ✧.*
pushing you up against the closest solid object, before devouring each other
KIRISHIMA EIJIROU ✧.*
hands traveling your body, pulling apart for a second to look at you before kissing the top of your head
IZUKU MIDORIYA ✧.*
hearts pounding, unable to open your eyes moments after disconnecting lips
SHOTO TODOROKI ✧.*
soft “i love you”s during each parting kiss
SERO HANTA ✧.*
lazy kisses, mumbling nonesense into each other mouths
DENKI KAMANARI ✧.*
giggling while pulling apart, followed by gentle kisses to your cheeks
HITOSHI SHINSO ✧.*
waking up to kisses and his voice reassuring you about how pretty you are
BATBOYS HCS ON YOUR BIRTHDAY! ── .✦
a/n: sorry if the text might be wrong because I’m currently crying a lot for personal reasons when making this so I won’t see clearly sorry! But this in honor of my birthday coming this Saturday
(Tags: batboys x birthday!reader)
DICK GRAYSON ── .✦
The Master of Surprises: Dick would absolutely go all out to make your birthday feel special. He’s the type to plan a surprise party, complete with all your friends and family, but he’d make sure it’s something you’d love—whether that’s a big celebration or something low-key.
Personal Touch: He’d wake you up with breakfast in bed, complete with your favorite coffee and pancakes shaped like hearts or stars. He’d probably also give you a heartfelt handwritten card that somehow manages to make you laugh and cry at the same time.
Gift: Dick is a thoughtful gift-giver. He’d get you something meaningful, like a scrapbook of your favorite memories together or that one thing you mentioned in passing months ago.
The Day: Expect lots of laughter, dancing, and maybe even a karaoke session where he serenades you with a love song in front of everyone.
Dick's Birthday Motto: “It’s your day, so we’re doing whatever you want—just don’t say skydiving.”
JASON TODD ── .✦
Low-Key but Thoughtful: Jason isn’t big on flashy celebrations, but he’d still want to make the day special for you. He’d wake you up with your favorite breakfast (probably ordered from that one diner you love) and insist on spending the day doing your favorite things.
The Day: He’d take you to a quiet spot in the city—maybe a rooftop with a great view or a hidden café—and you’d spend hours just talking, eating, and enjoying each other’s company. At night, he might take you on a ride on his motorcycle.
Jason's Birthday Motto: “I’m not great at this whole birthday thing, but I’m great at loving you. So, what do you wanna do?”
TIM DRAKE ── .✦
The Planner: Tim would be hyper-focused on making the day perfect. He’d create an itinerary based on everything you love, down to your favorite snacks and TV shows. He’d also book your favorite restaurant weeks in advance to make sure everything goes smoothly.
Gift: Tim would give you a tech-related gift, like a custom gadget he designed himself, or something incredibly thoughtful, like a rare collector’s item tied to one of your interests.
The Day: Tim would spend the whole day focusing on you, even if it meant setting aside his work. He’d be a bit anxious at first, constantly asking, “Is this okay? Do you want to do something else?” but he’d relax once he sees you’re happy.
Tim's Birthday Motto: “Today is all about celebrating how amazing you are. And yes, I have a spreadsheet for that.”
DAMIAN WAYNE ── .✦
Quiet but Intentional: Damian would approach your birthday with precision and thoughtfulness. He’s not one for grand gestures, but everything he does would be meaningful. He’d probably prepare something himself, like baking a cake or making a handmade gift.
Gift: Damian would give you something deeply personal, like a portrait he painted of you or a rare artifact tied to your shared interests. If you’re into animals, he might even bring you to the zoo or introduce you to a new pet he rescued.
The Day: He’d plan something intimate and tailored to your personality, like a quiet dinner at home or a visit to your favorite museum or park.
Damian's Birthday Motto: “Birthdays are a time for reflection and celebration, and you, beloved, are always worth celebrating.”
BRUCE WAYNE ── .✦
Elegant and Understated: Bruce would want to make your birthday feel luxurious without overwhelming you. He’d likely arrange a private dinner at Wayne Manor, complete with a chef and your favorite dishes.
Gift: Bruce would give you something incredibly extravagant, like a piece of custom jewelry or a trip to a destination you’ve always wanted to visit. It’s not about showing off—it’s about making you feel special and appreciated.
The Day: He’d take the day off (a rare feat for him) and spend it focused entirely on you. Whether it’s a quiet day at home or a luxurious outing, he’d make sure everything is perfect. Alfred would, of course, be involved in the planning.
Bruce's Birthday Motto: “You deserve the best, and I’ll make sure you get it.”
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