Tim Drake X Reader - Tumblr Posts

I love smut and everything but where is the angst that makes me wanna cry and die at the same time

me listening to music knowing i’m about to go deaf because of how loud it is

ps tysm for 783 notes i fr love u guys 😭!!

Having a comfort fic but also has the most gut wrenching angst to it as well is perfection

seeing a dead fandom get revived after DECADES

Nightmares

Summary: The Wayne family calls you in When they can't snap Tim out of it. (Tim Drake x reader)

Word Count: 2.5K

Notes: Tim is my fav as Robin ❤️ Yes, I did read the Hush arc. People are oddly divided if Jason really did try to kill Tim which is an argument for a later day, but it'd still mess with anyone regardless so shhhhh. Enjoy xx

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It was hardly ever that you were contacted by the Wayne residence, so when you got a call one Friday evening, a cold ball began forming in your stomach. With a surprised stutter you responded that you were still at the Gotham University library, studying up for your finals. Before you even got a chance to ask what was going on, Alfred kindly let you know that he was going to be picking you up before the receiver went dead.

Unsure of what to do, you shifted from foot to foot outside of the library. The night was cold for Spring, the coattails of winter still wrapped around the city. As you fidget you try to think of any reason that they would be calling you. After all, you and Tim had only been dating for eight months or so. In those eight months you had visited the manor maybe twice, much less met his family. Tim had dragged you through the hallways as soon as you hit the foyer, hurrying you to his room so fast that you could only exchange a surprised glance with the members he passed. You could only think of the worst scenarios, minutes stretching for eternity as you trapped yourself inside your mind.

What if they hated you dating Tim? You weren't from an affluent family like they were, growing up in a poor area of Robinson Park. You got into Gotham U on a scholarship, which was how you both had met in the first place. What if they looked down upon that and were going to threaten you to break up with him? If they ever chose to, they certainly would have the power and sway to. Hell, they could chase you out of Gotham entirely and no one would be the wiser. You thought of all these ideas, just to distract yourself from the underlying thought that sat like an unwelcome visitor int he back of your mind.

The little thought that whispered over and over again, 'What if something has happened to Tim?'

The Wayne car rolling to a stop in front of you was enough to snap you out of your worrying, making the ball in your stomach only grow heavier. The visage of Pennyworth, the butler, appears from the driver’s side. He gives you a small, tight, smile and exits the car, opening the back as you descend the stairs.

"After you, dear."

You hesitantly poke your head in as he waves his hand politely to the open door, blood draining from your face. You had expected the car to be empty, but as you studied the shadows it was very clearly not the case. The sturdily built man in front of you had his arm propped up on the window, chin in his palm. His deep blue eyes glinted from the shadows he seemed to melt into, rough timbre floating your way. "Come in."

You anxiously shuffle into the seat, leaving a space between you and the enigmatic Bruce Wayne. There's a tense silence as Alfred gets into the driver’s side and starts the car, headed to the Manor once more. You shuffle in your seat, pulse thudding against your neck.

"It's nice to meet you." you say, clearing your throat awkwardly. The icy eyes of the billionaire flick to you, scanning you up and down.

"And same to you." he says smoothly, staring back out the window with a rich indifference. "I'm sure you know why we called you?"

"Actually, I don't sir." you say gently, fiddling with your fingers. They gave you nothing to work off of, how could they expect you to know what was happening?

"It's about Tim." he says, and your heart flips.

"Is he okay?" falls out before you can even temper your voice properly.

"He's…in a difficult space right now." Bruce hums back at you, worry creasing at the corner of his eyes. "He won't work with any of us, won't come out. We thought that maybe you could help. Actually, Dick recommended we call you."

Dick Grayson. The only brother you had met, albeit only briefly. He had been passing through for a charity event and had come to ask Tim a question, ducking his head inside the bedroom. Tim had gone to get snacks, leaving you to nervously explain who you were. When you mentioned that you were dating Tim, a wide smile had split the older man's face. He'd promptly introduced himself, stepping inside and shaking your hand. Tim had chased him out soon after he arrived back, the elder brother's laughing echoing down the halls long after Tim had shut and locked the door.

"Is it bad?" you whisper out, fists curling on your knees.

"He's alive and physically uninjured, if that's what you're asking. Now, what I'm about to tell you is confidential. You tell anyone, and I mean anyone," Bruce's eyes flash dangerously. "Then there will be severe consequences."

When you nod his shoulders drop slightly, and he uncoils. You had always been intimidated by the man and the sheer power he wielded, but you didn't take him for someone to be so fiercely protective. There was something in his eyes that flickered when he stared you down, a scarred over wound that re-opened at the thought of you harming his family.

"I promise." you say, rising to match Bruce's tone. "I just want to help Tim."

The answer settles the wary father next to you, relaxing back into his seat.

He fills you in, dread filling your stomach more and more. He explains how they've been a target of a terrorist attack, Tim getting caught in the crossfire. The story seems wild and something in the back of your mind gets the impression he isn't telling you everything, but you remind yourself that this is Gotham, and being a rich family paints a rather large target.

"Fear gas?" you whisper, eyebrows furrowed. "I thought Batman put the Scarecrow in Arkham."

Bruce bites his knuckles but nods. "Yeah, that is what I thought too. So, we're suspecting it's either a lackey of his, or the Bat isn't as thorough as he appears." he grunts, teeth relenting their assault so he can cross his arms. "Masked annoyance." he mutters, his nose crinkling.

"How can I help?" you ask, adrenaline rushing through your veins in a mild cocktail of panic.

"Talk to him. get him to come out. We've had a doctor look him over and he'll be fine, he got out of the gassed room in time. His mental is just a bit…fragile, right now. He won't accept comfort from us. Some of us can't even get close. So, we thought you might be able to try." Bruce studies you closely. "We want to deal with this before press come snooping. It'll only affect his social life if this gets out before he's had a chance to recover, so I must reiterate the importance of your silence. This is a family matter; we will deal with it as such."

you nod along, swallowing the lump in your throat. "Yes, sir."

"But do not take it to heart if my son doesn’t recognise you." he says firmly. "He isn't himself right now. This isn't a reflection on your or your relationship."

You want to ask about how much he knew about your relationship, but as you open your mouth you're cut off by the voice of Alfred. "We're here, sir."

The car rolls to a stop, and Alfred opens Bruce's door and then yours. The manor is imposing, but you don't get long to look at it before you're ushered away. You're walked to the door of Tim's bedroom; except this time your arm is being led by the sympathetic smile of Pennyworth. He leaves you in peace, and it's never felt more imposing knocking on your boyfriend's door than now.

"Tim?" you call softly, rapping your knuckles against the richly coloured wood. "Are you in there? Can I come in?"

There's no response, making worry knot up in your chest. "I'm coming in, okay?" you call out, hand hesitantly turning the brass knob and opening the door just enough so you can slip inside.

It's dark, only moonlight illuminating the scene before you. His bedsheets have been ripped from the mattress, pillows scattered around. Drawers were open haphazardly, contents spilled across the tiled floor. Your heart lurched spying the sheer curtains that fluttered in front of the open bay windows, worrying that he might have gone out there despite the drop. It calms slightly when you spy him, huddled under the desk. You approach as if regarding a cornered animal, concern twitching in your fingers. The desk was devoid of any objects, swiped clear by a frenzied arm. The drawers were open and empty, content spilled around him.

"Hey, Tim." you say, crouching to him under the desk. He looks a mess, face pressed tightly into his knees. He's curled into a ball, arms tucked under his torso, resting on the front of his thighs. "it's me." your murmur, reaching out gently. "it's just me."

He jumps as your fingers lightly brush against his arm, face snapping up. His eyes are puffy and red rimmed, cheeks stained with tears. His hair is tousled and messy, falling over the shaking of his blue irises. The sight pangs painfully in your heart, and when he no longer pulls away from your touch, your hand slowly circles his wrist. He leans into your touch, body trembling as you pull him towards you. When you manage to get him in a hug you can feel the rapid beating of his heart, the shaky and quickened breaths that he draws into his lungs.

"Please don't hurt me." he whispers, shattering your heart. You look at him wide eyed, gently tilting his face to meet yours.

"Why on earth would I do that?" you breathe out, confusion on your face. His eyes are watery and far away, lips trembling. "I'd never do that, Tim. you know that."

"Please don't leave." he chokes out. "Please. Please don't leave. I don't want to be alone. I don't want to be alone again, I'll work harder, I’ll be smarter, I'll do better." he reassures frantically, pupils shifting rapidly. "I'll do enough this time. I'll meet your expectations. Just don't go."

Your mouth drops and there's nothing that you can say for a few moments. "Oh, Tim…" you breathe out. "I'm not going anywhere, okay? absolutely nowhere." you murmur gently. "And you don't need to promise that. You do enough, hell, you do so much. You do so much more than meet expectations, Tim. You surpass them in every way."

he shakes his head at your comforting, hair flopping in front of his eyes.

"I saw them." he mumbles, although you aren’t sure if it is to himself or to you. "They were just here, I saw them.'

"Who?" you ask softly, stroking your thumbs over his cheeks.

"My parents." he mumbles back out. "I saw them. they were here. They said... They said things..."

You sigh.

Bruce had told you that the effect of the gas made people see things, vivid hallucinations conjured up to torture them. You just hadn't been able to comprehend how deep in someone's mind the fear gas was able to pull from. "And there was Jason." he chokes out. "I never meant to replace him, but he wouldn't listen, and then I felt it all over again." he stammers out, spare hand coming to trace along his throat softly. "But Jason turned into Damian, and then he pushed me and I was falling again. I'm not a real son, I'm not a real replacement I'm-"

"Stop." you command, unable to hold your own tears back at his words. You had no idea what he was saying. Jason and Damian hurting him? Tim complained lightly about his brothers at times, but he had equal amount of compliments to give them back (even if they were begrudging). It had to be the toxin messing with his mind, distorting the images he kept conjuring up.

"Tim, your brother's love you." you say. "Bruce loves you, Alfred loves you, I love you. So please," your whisper, hands holding his face. "Please, wake up, Timmie."

His pupils dilate rapidly as he peers up at you, and you can see him struggle to focus. "Please," you plead again softly. "Please come back. Trust me. You're safe."

Water spills over his lash line and his lips curl into a sob, but his body relaxes. He unfurls from the foetal position, absent rocking of his body coming to a slow halt.

"That's it," you breathe out. "Nice and easy, just take a deep breath."

When he relaxes enough for you to crawl under the desk with him, you do, his arms circling your waist as you pull his head forward to rest on your shoulder. He turns and buries his face in your neck, hot tears streaking down your skin as he sobs. "I couldn't dodge it in time…" he weakly says, hands shaking. "If I had dodged I wouldn't be seeing this. I'm supposed to be…I'm supposed to be faster than that…"

Your lips frown at the despair in his voice. From his tone it seems like he was slowly becoming more lucid, but you still had no idea what he was on about. With a few gentle encouragements you get his frantic murmuring to cease completely, fight draining out of him. You can feel the effects wearing off him as time passes, and you hate to imagine what the toxin must have done to him at full strength. You just run a comforting hand through his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp and occasionally shushing him. When you tilt your head to kiss the top of his head, your eyes narrow in on the piece of paper that had fluttered from his lap.

It had been obscured when he was curled up, pressed to his chest. now that he had begun to relax it had slipped out, landing face up. It was a photo of you, taken in black and white. He had gotten a new camera for his birthday and wanted to try it out, so he brought it to the library the next time you both met up to study together. You were looking up at the camera, smiling softly as the light from the window filtered in behind you. Your eyes follow the curve of your grin to the way your eyes crinkle joyfully as you gaze in his direction. The corners are rolled and creased from the toying of his fingers, and you softly reach out to pick it up.

His arms tighten around you as you move to retrieve it, making you rub his back comfortingly. "I'm not going anywhere." you say softly, pulling the picture back towards you. "I promise," you whisper, looking at yourself in the photo he had been cradling so reverently before you came. "I'm not going anywhere, ever."

And you intended to keep that promise before anything like this happened again.

ROMANCE-TOBER :: PASSING NOTES IN THE LIBRARY -DOLLISH

── .✦

A/n: I’m literally on time! I actually im so excited for being on time because I’m going to like go shopping tomorrow to go to NYC last minute!! So I’ll have some works on queue for you guys! (I should’ve done that sooner!😭) so yeah I also wanna start a mini series but after romtober ofc I don’t want to make a busy schedule with TWO series at a time! - dollish.

Character tags: tim drake x g!n reader!

The soft hum of pages turning and the faint scent of aged paper filled the air as you and Tim settled into a cozy corner of the Gotham Central Library. Autumn weather streamed through the tall windows, casting warm beams across the wooden tables, creating the perfect atmosphere for a study date. You had intended to focus on your schoolwork, but as you glanced over at Tim, a mischievous smile tugged at the corners of your lips.

Tim was already deeply engrossed in his work, glasses perched on the bridge of his nose (yes he wears blue light glasses), and his brow furrowed in concentration. You admired how dedicated he was, but you also knew that focusing in a library together was a challenge especially when Tim had a penchant for distractions.

You settled into your own stack of books, trying to concentrate on the chapter in front of you, but a rustle beside you caught your attention. Tim had pulled out a bright yellow sticky note and a pen. With a sly smile, he began to scribble something down, glancing your way every few seconds, as if ensuring you weren’t watching.

Curiosity piqued, you pretended to read while glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. He finished writing, then peeled the sticky note off and turned it sideways to reveal his handiwork.

**“You look cute when you’re studying. Don’t forget to blink.” **

You couldn’t help but laugh quietly, drawing a few disapproving glances from nearby people who were about boomers maybe. Tim’s eyes sparkled with mischief as he held the note up in a way that only you could see. He winked, and you felt a rush of warmth at his attention.

You grabbed a nearby pen and quickly scribbled a response on another sticky note.

**“Are you flirting with me??”**

You passed it over, and Tim read it with an exaggerated gasp, placing a hand over his heart. “Me? Flirting? Never!” He whispered a bit so only you could hear.

The two of you exchanged giggles before he went back to his notes. His laughter was infectious, and you couldn’t help but steal glances at him, trying to concentrate while enjoying the playful banter.

Tim reached for another sticky note, clearly undeterred by the actual studying you both should have been doing. He quickly wrote another message and leaned over to present it to you, a cheeky grin on his face.

**“Maybe I should take you out for ice cream after this. I promise to keep it a ‘study session’ or maybe not?.’”**

You raised an eyebrow, playing along. “Only if you promise not to get distracted by the menu again.”

“I can’t help it if the flavors are that enticing!” he replied with mock seriousness, clearly enjoying this little game of notes more than the actual studying.

You felt your heart flutter. It was moments like these light and filled with laughter that reminded you why you enjoyed spending time with Tim so much. He was always full of surprises, and even when he was trying to focus, he managed to make you feel special.

You decided to up the ante. You grabbed a sticky note and wrote down a challenge.

**“Fine, but if you can solve this math problem in under five minutes, ice cream is on me.”**

You set the challenge note down in front of him. He looked at it, a mixture of determination and amusement in his eyes. “Game on.”

Tim immediately set to work, his brow furrowing in concentration as he tackled the problem. You watched as he scribbled numbers and formulas on his own pad, glancing at the clock occasionally.

When he finally finished, he looked up, triumphant. “Done! Let’s see if I got it right.” He flipped the notebook to show you the answer, and you bit your lip to hold back laughter.

“Tim,” you said, “you accidentally solved the problem for next week’s homework instead.”

His expression dropped, and he facepalmed dramatically, making you giggle even more. “Okay, okay, no ice cream for me,” he said, shaking his head in mock disappointment.

But instead of giving up, he quickly grabbed another sticky note.

**“New plan, if I can’t solve it, you owe me an ice cream. If I do, I get to choose the flavor.”**

You rolled your eyes playfully but nodded, unable to resist his charm. “That’s sounds like a win win situation for you??, but deal.”

With renewed determination, Tim got to work again. You watched him solve the problem with ease this time, the corners of his mouth turning up into a satisfied grin when he realized he had it right.

“Victory is mine!” he declared, leaning back in his chair with a theatrical flourish. You laughed, and he quickly scrawled another note.

**“I’ll take mint chocolate chip, please.”**

As you reached for your own stack of notes, the librarian approached your table, a slight frown on her face. “I’m going to need you two to keep it down a little, People are starting to think your planning to run out the place without scanning your books first…” she said, eyeing your sticky notes and the shared laughter.

You both nodded, suppressing your giggles, but once she turned away, you exchanged knowing smiles, the kind that spoke of shared secrets and the joy of being together.

After a few more minutes of pretending to study, Tim leaned over, resting his chin on his hand, his gaze softening as he looked at you. “You know, I came here to study, but I think I’m actually enjoying this a lot more.”

“Same here,” you admitted, feeling the warmth spread through you. “Thanks for making this so fun.”

He reached over and lightly touched your hand, the contact sending a small spark through you. “You’re worth the distraction,” he replied, his voice sincere.

You felt your heart race at his words. The library around you faded away, leaving just the two of you and the quiet intimacy of the moment.

As the afternoon light began to fade, you realized that while you hadn’t done much studying, you had created memories that would last far longer than any textbook lesson.

“Want to grab that ice cream now?” you suggested, feeling a rush of excitement.

“Absolutely,” Tim grinned, packing away his books and sticky notes.

As you both stood and made your way to the exit, you felt a sense of happiness wash over you. You may have come to the library for studying, but you were leaving with so much more laughter, playful banter, and the promise of ice cream with the boy who never failed to make your heart flutter.

- @dollishbabess do not repost on different platform, or translate or edit!

- second divider @cafekitsune

DC UNIVERSE MASTERLIST

i’m a batman girl at heart, sorry clark.

(R = request) ( ❥ = fluff) (❦ = angst)

Batboys/Batman/Batsis/Batfam:

BRUCE WAYNE

no works posted yet

DICK GRAYSON (not yj)

no works posted yet

JASON TODD

no works posted yet

TIM DRAKE

After hours. (R)- f!r- she can take care of herself, man.

DAMIAN WAYNE

Older Brother HCs (R)- gn!r. damian as an older bro

BATSIS

no works posted yet

BATFAM

Azalea Isley (R)- gn!r- you bring home a villain gf

Young Justice:

DICK GRAYSON (yj)

no works posted yet

WALLY WEST

no works posted yet

KALDUR’AHM

no works posted yet

ARTEMIS CROCK

no works posted yet

CONNOR KENT

no works posted yet

M’GANN M’ORZZ

no works posted yet

Miscellaneous Members of DC

Hey, I wanted to request for Tim Drake where y/n has telekinesis and she’s Tim’s assistant. One day someone attacks and y/n kicks there asses without anyone’s help. Thank you <3 have a good day

After hours.

Tim Drake x Fem!Reader Oneshot

WC: 1708

SYNOPSIS: Y/N just wants a night off, is that so hard? From fighting crime to overtime at Wayne tech our favorite vigilante just wants to get some sleep, however sometimes annoying thugs get in the way of her night off. tch. Don’t worry, she’s got it under control.

WARNINGS: Violence, gunfight, Y/N being disrespectful to batman (even tho he deserves it) , swearing

Tic. Tic. Tic.

The clock that hung on the wall was making it painfully obvious to Y/N L/N that time was passing ever so slowly. As much as Y/N loved her job at Wayne Tech, this was the first night this week she didn’t have to stay for overtime. You can’t blame her for being excited to go home.

4:56. Okay, only 64 minutes to go. I can do that. She thought, tapping her pen against her mahogany desk. She had a nice private area to work, beautifully furnished, and it sat just outside her boss Tim Drake’s office. And there she sat, waiting for time to speed up and impatiently bouncing her leg under the desk.

Y/N continued to fill the time by filing her boss’s paperwork and finishing up contracts for tomorrow’s early meetings. She took messages from incoming calls and filled out Tim’s schedule for the week. Then she felt a buzz in her pocket.

Shit.

Something else that should be mentioned about Y/N. She has a rather dangerous after hours hobby.

Being a metahuman vigilante in Gotham came with its challenges. There were always going to be the usual criminals, creeps and bad guys. However the biggest thorn in your side was the big bad bat himself. He has… territory issues.

And he has an automatic prejudice against metas. It wasn’t your fault that you were hit with a particle accelerator blast and woke up with telekinesis. Nor was it your fault you looked damn good in black spandex. You weren’t sure if that last part pertained to Batman’s focus on you, however maybe he’s jealous you’re hotter. Oh, definitely.

So here you sat, your communicator alerting you of a nearby attacker. Your eyes snapped up to meet the clock once more. You glanced over at the door separating you and Tim just to make sure it was still securely shut.

You pulled the communicator out of your pocket and read the warning.

ATTEMPTED CRIME IN PROGRESS:

LOCATION: WAYNE TECH

ARMED OFFENDERS APPROACHING

POLICE: 7 MINUTES OUT

Just as you finished reading, the emergency alarm began to blare and the muffled sounds of gunshots rang out from floors below. You immediately stood up. As if you moved in sync, something very common within soulmates, Tim Drake’s door swung open. He stepped out wearing only a white button up, black slacks and a tie. His jacket must’ve been discarded in his office. A look you think he needs to sport far more often. Not the time, Y/N.

“Stay here.” You said unanimously.

You narrowed your eyes at him. Men and their egos.

“With all due respect, you have no idea-“ He began.

“Please Mr. Drake,” You raised a hand to him. “We can argue about this at a later date.” You rolled your eyes at him and began to make your way down the hall. He stumbled after you.

The lights above you flickered and you pulled him to the side of the hallway behind a pillar. Out of the elevator eight- rather large- criminals stumbled out. Tim pushed himself in front of you as the criminals filed down the hall.

“All we need is the girl. Tracked the locater here. All we gotta do is hit her once with this, grab her, and we can beat it.” One of the thugs said, holding a metal blaster in his hand.

Ugh. You recognized him. This is so tedious. These guys were after you for their higher up. Some mob leader you took down a while ago wanted vengeance, but couldn’t exactly get the best quality help while he stuck in Belle Reve. You rolled your eyes and pushed Tim off of you. His eyes nearly popped out of their sockets, he grabbed you and forcibly dragged you back towards him.

“What the hell?! Do you have a death wish? Help is on the way, just stay calm and don’t make any rash decisions.” Tim aggressively whispered. He knew he couldn’t blow his cover with a civilian present, especially one who worked for him. It would only endanger you more, however, Jason and Bruce had been notified and would be there any minute. All he had to do is make sure you don’t get yourself killed in the meanwhile.

Your eyebrow rose at his tone.

Jeez, someone needs to get this guy anxiety medication…

“Listen, Tim.” You rubbed your face in annoyance. “I kn-“

“What could you possibly say to convince me to let one of my employees, and friends, go out to armed assailants?” He crossed his arms. It’s true, you and Tim were friends. You had become rather close with the late nights in the office. Though in order to keep things professional, you didn’t see each other outside of work unless it was on ‘accidental’ terms.

Your eye twitched in annoyance. So instead of talking to him like a sane person, you decided to give him a taste of his own attitude. You slid past him and made your way down the hall.

“Y/N!” Tim whisper-shouted. You waved him off.

“Yo morons. What the hell are you doing here?” You asked, crossing your arms.

“S/N. Tch. We knew we’d get to you eventually. You see-“

“Can we cut the monologue? Sorry, but it’s late, I’m supposed to be off work in like 15 minutes. So let’s get this over with. Large bad guys with a weapon to attack with, you get your asses handed to you by a hot superhero,” You flipped your hair over your shoulder. “And you guys go back to prison, but not Belle Reve because you guys aren’t that big of a deal.”

The main guy pointed the weapon at you. You rolled your eyes and telekinetically drew it to yourself. As you examined it, you realized it was significantly more advanced than the stuff that these guys ever messed with.

“Where the hell did you dufases get tech like this?”

Three of the men lunged towards the device. You dodged downward, out of the way of the first guy, pushing his shins, using the force from your knees to flip him over your head. You ducked and punched the second guy onto the ground. The third man smirked and pointed his gun at you. You smacked it out of his hand and hit him with the bottom of your palm causing his nose to bleed profusely. He dropped the gun to grab at his face and you kicked it away from him.

When you turned back to face the rest of them, you realized Tim had his hands up in surrender from the other side of the hall. In the commotion he had stepped out, and currently had a gun pointed in his direction. Just as the BANG rang out and the bullet left the gun, you lifted your hand up and stopped the bullet in its tracks, forcing it to fall to the floor. Tim’s eyes widened in surprise. You exasperatedly flung your wrist in the direction of the gun, and it pistol-whipped the guy who was holding onto Tim, allowing for a quick getaway.

“I’ve had enough of this.” You pushed your arms out and felt your body pulsate with power as the rest of the men were thrown against the wall. You continued looking at the small blaster that was definitely intended for your capture. You looked up for a moment to see Tim with his mouth agape.

“What?” You asked, feigning innocence.

“You- and then- the- What??” Tim asked, running a stressed hand through his hair. “Four years I’ve known you! Three years I’ve been searching for S/N! How have I not figured it out?”

“Not sure, I figured out you and Batman’s identities a while ago.” You continued to fiddle with the blaster trying to break the back open. “Also for a masked vigilante, you almost got shot pretty quickly.”

“Don’t tell Batman that, he’ll throw a fit.” You smiled as you managed to pop the back of the blaster open and saw a glowing blue power device.

“Weird. I haven’t seen anything like- Ow shit!” The radiation from the power burned your skin. You dropped it and it clattered to the ground. Tim carefully picked it up, but felt no radiation.

“New biotech. Must be attracted to metahumans. I’ll get Batman to do an overview of it and get back to-“ Just as if the name summoned the devil himself, Batman and the Red Hood crashed through the window, weapons drawn.

Though you hadn’t formally met the bat in person, rumors of his glare flooded the streets of Gotham, and they were absolutely true. The bat’s eyes narrowed at the bodies surrounding you and Tim.

“You revealed your identity?” His gruff voice sent chills down your spine, but you held your composure.

“No, Bruce.” Yikes, perhaps that wasn’t the best decision you could’ve made. Well too late now, might as well go with it.

His head snapped towards Tim.

“Explanation. Now.” He said, his patience evidently running thin.

“I took the guys down. They’re some low level thugs sent out to find me. The question is, how did they get ahold of sophisticated tech like this. My guess would be Cadmus.” You stuck your hand out.

“Y/N L/N sir, also known as S/N.” He glanced at your hand. Jason took it.

“Red Hood!” He smiled. “You’ve been pissing off bats here for a while! Pleasure to meet you!”

You raised an eyebrow, but smiled nonetheless. Since the bat continued to silently stare at you, you turned back to Tim.

“Alright! Well, I’m going to head home because I am,” You checked the watch on your wrist, “Officially off work! I will see you tomorrow, Mr. Drake. Please update me on the weapon and if you have any questions, I'm sure you can reach me now. Have a good night.” You smiled and began walking out.

You were finally going to get home early! You made your way down the elevator and towards the large spinning doors of the lobby however you were stopped when you heard your name get called.

“Y/N! Y/N!” Tim said. “You uh- forgot your jacket upstairs.” He stuck your jacket out towards you. “I couldn’t, in good conscience, let you walk in the cold without it.”

“Thanks Mr. Drake.” You took it from him, fingers grazing his as you sat in an awkward silence for a moment.

“I guess I’ll see you later then.” You turned to leave, but he grabbed your wrist.

“Wait!” He swallowed. “Would you like to grab a coffee with me tomorrow? Before work?” Your gaze softened at him.

“Yeah. I’d actually really like that.” You smiled at him.

“Great!” He smiled widely. “I’ll pick you up around 8:00. Also, it’s just Tim, Y/N.”

“Alright Tim, I will see you tomorrow.” You put on your jacket and turned to walk out. Tim smiled as you walked out.

Once you got out the door you made your way down the street towards your apartment complex. As the building came into view, you were pulled into a side alley and a gun was held to your neck.

“Gimme all the cash ya’ got, and I wont hurt cha’ doll face.”

“Oh brother.”

Of course, because god forbid you could just get the night off.

———————————————————————————

A/N: Hey guys! First request and first published oneshot! I am so glad I finally got the courage to post this and once school is out I will be able to post much more! Thank you so much, love, for requesting this fic <3 Enjoy!

I wanna be a sugar baby for Bruce Wayne so bad I can feel my teeth hurt

Batboys as your sugar daddy

What’s the point of all this money if you don’t have someone to spend it on?

Pairings: Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake x fem!reader

Contains: Sugar daddies. Possessive, controlling men. Power imbalances. They’re all a little toxic. These relationships are not aspirational babes. Oral sex (f!receiving) in Dick’s.

Notes: 18+ or you’ll be blocked.

BRUCE WAYNE 💋

“Wear the diamonds,” Bruce rumbles from behind you, lips right next to the shell of your ear. Before you can answer, his warm hands are already on your throat, and cool platinum touches your skin. A hundred diamonds arranged in three dainty layers sparkle in the low light of Bruce’s bedroom, clinging tightly to your neck.

With the choker clasped in place, one of Bruce’s hands traces up and down your neck while the other rests heavily on your hip, holding you flush against his chest. His touch is hypnotic, pulling you in like a planet pulls a moon into orbit. Your whole world revolves around him—and that’s exactly how he likes it.

But like the moon, the subtle gravitational pull you have on him keeps him in place, keeps him stable, calms his most wicked of storms.

He bows his head. The way he looks at you through his eyelashes is almost reverent while he kisses your bare shoulder, skin interrupted only by your dress’s hair-thin silk strap.

“Beautiful,” he says, and you know he’s not talking about the necklace, the dress, or any of the other jewels and silks he’s drowned you in over the last year.

When your eyes meet in the mirror, one corner of his lips quirks up into a smirk, which he buries under a kiss to your jaw. 

There, with a quick, sharp nip of his teeth, he lays his claim. “And all mine.”

DICK GRAYSON 💋

Dick’s on his knees, head buried between your legs when you hear—feel—him say, “I need you to take a week off work.”

Well. What he really needs is for you to just quit your job already, but you got upset the last time he suggested it. Baby steps. For now.

“Why?” you gasp, blinking hard as you try to focus on the fact that he’s starting a conversation now when his tongue is making you smart and shake with pleasure.

“I want to go to the Maldives,” he says as if it’s the most inconsequential thing in the world, as if he’s saying he wants to go across town, not across the world.

His tongue flattens out and dips into your weeping hole, and your thighs tighten around his head in response. He groans, and you choke out, “A week for the Maldives?”

You feel his lips twist and curve around you, paired with a little graze of teeth; he’s smiling, and the sensation makes you dizzy. There it is, he wants to say. You want more. Finally, your expectations are starting to match his bank account.

But he decides to play the dumb, pretty boyfriend he likes to make people think he is. “You don’t think it’s enough time? Wanna take two weeks?”

“I don’t have the—” He kisses up to your clit and gives it a tentative little suck, which makes you fist his hair. “—vacation days.”

“Why don’t you just take them without pay?” he proposes as his tongue laves up your swollen sex. “It’ll be okay, just this once. You’ll feel so much better after some time off; I promise.”

JASON TODD 💋

Jason is currently scrutinizing the contents of your pantry, a box of macaroni and cheese in his hand. After seeing the scowl on his face, you’re not surprised when he starts to lecture you. “You eat this crap?”

You raise a brow because he’s one to judge. “I’ve seen you eat an entire party box of tacos.”

“I’m not you,” he fires back. His voice is still low, still calm, but you can sense an edge in his tone; this conversation is about a lot more than boxed macaroni and cheese.

In the beat of silence that follows, his heated gaze dulls to a smolder. “You don’t know how precious you are.”

You open your mouth to reply, but whatever retort you were going to argue back with is silenced when Jason’s big hands cup your face, tilting your head up so he can kiss your forehead. He lingers there, and you feel him tremble. His breath is ragged, rough—as if he’s afraid.

“I’m not you,” he repeats in a whisper. It’s like he’s talking to a child, like he knows you don’t know any better. Poor little you—you need him. “Just let me take care of you like always, okay? How about I sign you up for one of those meal prep kits? No more processed food; it’s not good for you.”

When he pulls you against his chest and strokes your hair, you feel yourself nod, unable to disagree. You know he’s right, after all; and isn’t it sweet that he treats you like a delicate angel even though he’s seen the worst of the world? That nothing without his stamp of approval is good enough for you?

TIM DRAKE 💋

“Oh, you’re all set,” your manicurist smiles at you as soon as you take out your wallet, nails freshly done. 

Caught off guard, all you can reply with is, “Huh?”

She just smiles a little brighter, and there’s a sparkle of something in her eyes. It looks a little wistful, but also a little vapid—is that jealousy? “Your boyfriend paid already,” she explains as her eyes not-so-subtly look around, trying to catch a glimpse of said boyfriend, but you’re just as surprised as she is.

“For the next year,” she adds in a dry tone. Slowly, you drop your wallet back into your purse. There’s only one man alive who could figure out where you get your nails done, what day and time you like your appointments, and call ahead to pay off your manicures for the next year without you ever finding out about it.

So when you get back to your car, you call him.

“Do anything fun today?” he asks over the phone, pretending to be way more innocent than he actually is.

“Tim—”

“Actually,” he cuts in, and you hear a bashful tremor in his voice. That tremor makes your stomach do flips, which beckons you to give in to whatever he wants. “I was just thinking about you. You’ve got the prettiest hands.”

“Tim—”

“Let’s go shopping later,” he rambles on, completely ignoring you. “I think you need some new jewelry. You’d like a new set of rings, wouldn’t you?”

🔖: @mrs-kurooo; @lovely-loren05

“Fuck you Comic Con nerds!” | DC - Batman WIP

Batfam X Isekaied Reader

— in which you, a DC fan gets isekaied into and gets saved by boy wonder. Only to get mad at him and B… it’s only after you calm down (still mad at them) you piece together what actually happened… but should you tell them?

AU: Soulmate (?), isekai Rating: Sfw

Note: You and Damien are the same age and shit. I don’t really remember how old he is but for the sake of fanfiction let’s age him up to 18 (or down I looked it up and it said he was 37? I have no idea where that info was from comic are confusing)

Warning: Y/N swears a lot and makes a like one sexual joke? _________________________________

One minute you were in the greatest, most magical place in the world: Six flags. And the next you were in the sewer. To say you were pissed and totally confused was an understatement. Those funnel cakes by the entrance were calling your name- you were gonna get one before you left! Now instead of that sweet cake smell it was replaced with the smell of shit and piss and whatever else lived in the sewer.

Sixflags was suppose to be relaxing- doctors orders. You just needed to relax and distract from-

You were in the sewers. You dreaded to think about what you may have stepped in while on your quest to find a manhole cover.

So yes, you looked like an idiot in a Superman cape carrying a Wayne enterprises mug wondering around the sewers. The mug was half off and made you feel like you existed in the world of DC instead of the regular merchandise… and the cape was because who doesn’t get a cape when they go to six flags? Or at least bring the cape they already bought with them. Looking back, you blamed the mug. Anyway, you were wandering around this horrible sewer with water greener then green. It seriously looked toxic… when you heard this horrible roar…

You glanced back from where you came- looking towards the sound, when you heard it again. So, like any sane person. You broke out into a sprint.

Bad ideas, because it heard you and was coming closer now.

You seriously doubted you would be able to outrun this thing for long. It was getting closer and rapidly. But, thankfully, luck was on your side- because you saw a manhole cover!

Climbing the ladder you pushed the thing open-

Only to almost get ran over by a fucking car! “Watch it!” You cursed at the speeding car, a certain finger proudly in the air as you climb out. Momentarily forgetting about the creature that was chasing you. Remember that you slammed the man hole cover shut in a hurry.

But, did you think you could compete with some monster when it comes to the battle of strength? Yeah, didn’t think so either. It blasted the manhole cover off of its neat little spot and you hurry back and away from the road. “What the- oh my god.” You breath in relief when the thing was too big to actually climb out of the sewers. “Killer croc… okay… I’m losing it… whatever it is…” you try and breath out to collect yourself but you were interrupted by the sound of a very angry lizard man… thing. Crocodile? “Okay fuck off!” You shouted angrily at the villain and rip your cap off. “Abusive aunts or some shit is hard but by god your annoying!” You huff and run away because that just made him more angry and you didn’t want to stick around for that.

You did run away while waving two fingers at him, each from the middle of two of your hands but that was neither here nor there. You just needed to walk away and clear your head-

And…

You bumped into someone on your little escape. A chest of a fucking cosplayer. “My day couldn’t be going worse- oh my god, Fuck you Comic Con nerds!” You swore at the boy in black, red and green. “Six flags was suppose to be fucking relaxing!” You swore at him and turned away to go the opposite way only to bare witness to the snarls of a certain croc

“get back here!” He made the fucking ground shake.

“Fuck you and your shitty Damien cosplay, I am out of here.” You turn and ran from him only he to met with the silhouette of a bat… man, it was fucking Batman. “Oh I wonder who it is? Bruce Wayne, no fucking duh, Go fight the idiot on acid and leave me out of it.” You hissed because you were cornered. You tend to lash out when your cornered. He approached you quieter now. “…Oh um, I’ll take the crocodile, thanks.” You spoke as you backed up only for him to make the ground shake harder-

“Fine! Boy wonder then god damn. At least he’s hot!”

“How do You know our names?” Boy wonder piped up. He was suddenly standing beside you.

“Are You dense or really into role play?” You hissed at them. “I don’t know what kind of budget your little prank crew is working with but screw off!” Just then the crocadile managed to ruin the ground around him and break free- resulting in Batman and Robin to fight him and you-

The sane one to run away, “I’m so suing six flags for this- didn’t sign up for their fucking role-play shit.”

—————————————

Okay, so after adjusting. You were no longer in six flags- nor some rich nerds cosplay special effects whatever. Hell you didn’t even somehow end up on a movie set shooting for the next Batman. “Gotham more like god dammit, right?” You joked to yourself, and the old women next to you. She just looked at you weirded out and oddly disappointed before shaking her head. “Okay, Fuck me then.”

So, yeah, you were feeling a lot of emotions. Hey, you can adjust to this! Because no way in hell was getting back to your world worth being involved in whatever episode or comic plot this whole thing was. Yeah no, fuck that. You made a checklist.

1. Get out of Gotham (metropolis was lovely, Superman was cool-)

2. Get enough money to fuck off to some corner of the world no one knew about.

And finally 3. Live peacefully knowing you’ll never get that funnel cake.

The only problem? You didn’t have any money, food, shelter, phone, money again, or anything besides the clothes on your back. And you were craving funnel cake. Yes, you were poor in Gotham. That was basically a death sentence.

At least you had a mug. A stupid, useless mug. Hey, at least you can beg for change with it! “I should rob people.” You mutter to yourself because, that seemed like a good easy way to get money- the old women next to you however eyed you warily and moved her purse. “Not you, we’re cool Margaret.” You sent her a wave and a wink and got up. This plan would work.

It was this or sell the Justice leagues names to villains. Which- hey that could make cash and make you dead!

—————————————

Despite what people will tell you, stealing is fun.

Who would have guessed- your a natural pick pocket! If pick pocketing was running past women and tugging their bags away. “My bag! My purse!” Okay, maybe you had a bit of a sick sense of humor but you were desperate! And you made 132 dollars and 25 cents. Had it been two days? Yes, had you been pepper sprayed twice? Yes again, but you avoided it!

The only regret you had? Why hadn’t it been marvel? Marvel just seemed easier to live in. Yes the world did end but it bounced back! You sighed and threw a penny in the air. You were honestly tired. Two days was a long time to go without a bed. You couldn’t get a job either, you tired and needed so much to prove you were a serial killer or a thief- which included a birth certificate you didn’t have and so much more. Background checks would be the death of you. Even at that small cafe you met Margret? Yeah it was Margret. “Well we’ll well, if it isn’t Gotham’s newest petty criminal.”

You dropped your penny. Leaving you with 24 cents.

It was Jason fucking Todd.

“If I die, at least make it by those thighs.” You said solemnly, accepting your death. “I mean seriously, you squat or something?” You did a wolf whistle and now you were being detained. Okay, you tried.

You never claimed to be better then a man. And if you did you lied.

“I got her B.”

.

.

.

.

“Banananannaan Batman! Da Na!” You sang as Batman’s Batmobile pulled into the bat cave. The same one you had been dragged too. “He’s the crime fighting vigilantes who works alone! Besides Robin, Nightwing, Gordon, the Justice League, batgirl, Red Robin, red hood, Oracle, Barbra, um… I know theirs more help me out jay bird?” You sang as he excited the car. “He refuses to kill the joker who’s a mass murder ands death would save thousands! It’s Batman! The hero man! Danananana!”

“How do You know?” Batman asked as he walked towards you.

“The Song? Oh I improvised. Hard to find rhymes for Batman, hero man is pretty good though, huh?” He fucking punched you! “Fuck! What the hell dude? Wait are you the angry Batman who’s quieter or the nice Batman- god it’s so hard to know which one I ended up with.”

“This is serious.” Dick Said as he grabbed Batman hand and pulled him away from you.

“Heard of coping? penis?” You rolled your eyes, “this is kinda how I do it.”

“You sold our information, or Superman’s information too a villain. Tell us why and how you knew it and we’ll let you go.” He continued, “our friend is in serious danger now because of you.” He gritted his teeth looking upset.

You just rolled your eyes and licked your now bloody teeth. “Would have sold your guys information for a lot more then I got on me. Living large with eight dogs- maybe cats? Don’t know how I feel about animals actually. Which do you prefer dogs or cats?”

“We need to know how many villains you sold us out too.” Dick said calmly, his face getting closer to your own. “Now.”

You smile and lean closer to him. “You free after this?” He backed away with a frustrated look and Batman put his hand on Dick shoulder. “Oh B is tapping in now- great!”

“Your the only person who knows who we are.” Another voice said you looked behind you and saw Damien.

“That you don’t trust. Maybe check your inner circles before punching a poor thief! God… you’d think the world greatest detective would fact check- oh wait isn’t the greatest a chimp or something? I’ve always loved monkeys- oh maybe I’d get a monkey for my pent house.”

“You have no family, no friends, no birth certificate- before last week you didn’t exist. There are no records of you being born or traveling to Gotham. Who exactly are you?” Batman leaned close to you.

You stayed silent, thinking of your options. "I was with a traveling circus..." You began, "Then one day someone rigged the equipment for my parent's routine and then batman adopted me, and that was how I began robin..." You spoke solemnly, you noticed how a certain blue suited bird man tensed up. "Aw, don't tell me we have the same backstory!" You accused the Nighwing, "well one of us is going to have to change it and I hate to tell you, but I make it work."

"She knows more about us than our names... or at least more about Nighwing." You heard a robin mutter, the red one.

"Okay being red was his thing” you look at red hood, “and you took it, so you have no place to talk about me and penis's copycat situation- Even though I totally did it first and he should change it." You nudged your head towards Red Hood, "Kinda like how you took his role as Robin, but you know what Ima stay away from that can of worms haha." You laughed awkwardly as Jason stood up from behind you and walked towards you menacingly.

"This is a Major Turn Off for me you know? The costumes just don’t do it- maybe if you strip-“ and your mouth was tapped shut.

_____________________________________NOTE: Y/N is supposed to be Deadpool coded because I was watching Deadpool and laughing my ass off earlier.

I love you Helplessly. | Tim Drake X Reader

Angst No comfort.

AU: None Rating: SFW

Note: This one if meant to hurt. I hope it does but if it feels devoid of something please tell me. I tried to make it, so you'd be teary eyed at the end, and I am sorry if I didn't do that. I am not the best at writing this stuff, I'm an avid reader of angst but writer? Well, I can try. __________________________________

They say that when you're drowning there is a moment of peace.

When you wake up, you take a minute to adjust. Maybe it's like that? The peace... It might just be you adjusting to the water in your lunges? A moment of peace, when the light shines in through the curtains and you don't squint and shoo it away, but instead choose to bask in its warmth, its light.

Your drowning, basking. You think you can adjust to this light. Because he made you feel helpless. It felt amazing, like you didn't know what to do and he'd hold you so softly.

When he kissed you, it tasted like coffee. You didn't like the flavor before him.

Tim Drake was a perfect lover.

It felt like he knew you better than you knew yourself. But the best part? Well, that was when he held you.

His soft touch, holding your close. His palms felt like the sun, warm and oh so so comforting. You told him it was because he was always holding a hot cup of coffee, but you didn't think that was true either. Because even if he hadn't had coffee yet, his touch still felt like the world.

"I love you."

You said it first. You always did It first- You messed it all up. Because he didn't look at you after that. Instead, he froze, his eyes zeroing in on his laptop. "I'm sorry- I don't know-"

"No, its fine." Tim interrupted you. A conflicted look on his face. "No- Thank you for saying that. It means a lot to me"

You nodded as he kissed you, his bitter coffee taste weighted heavy on your tongue.

Were kisses meant to be this bitter?

No, that thought was just a distraction. A distraction from what your mind really didn't want to focus on. Why didn't he say it back...?

That thought kept you awake.

What you didn't know was Tim was thinking the same thing. He had been thinking about it. Within the last week there had been three times he wished he said he loved you.

It was the beginning of the week, and he was having a rough day. When he got back to his room, he found... you, a fresh mug of coffee and a pile of blankets all laid out- one even was hung up like a canopy above you.

You giggled and requested he join you in bed and he did, hugging you so tightly, he breathed in your scent and sighed stress leaving him like you repealed it.

When he was with you his brain stopped working. he didn't need to think- he only needed to be there and hold you.

He reasoned with himself, if he could kiss you like he loved you that made up for it. And he kissed you and touched you and- you were his world. He made it feel like you were and he was happy with that.

So why can't you get your mind off those three words?

Your insecurities ate at you as you began to cater to him just a bit more- hoping he'd say those words you longed needed to hear.

They say that when you're drowning there is a moment of peace.

When you wake up, you take a minute to adjust. Maybe it's like that? The peace... It might just be you adjusting to the water in your lunges? A moment of peace, when the light shines in through the curtains and you don't squint and shoo it away, but instead choose to bask in its warmth, its light.

You were drowning and sadly that moment of peace wasn't coming.

The rotting feeling inside your chest felt horrible as he yanked your head from out of the water. Your eyes burned from the tears. You voice broke and sobs wrecked your body, your chest heaving for air- because if you had air, you can plead correctly. "Please-" You couldn't catch your breath, "Please, no more, please no more- Tim- I-"

"Tsk Tsk Tsk." He shook his head with a pout. Pulling your head by its hair harshly so you'd see his waving finger. "No no no, that just won't do." He said before his laughter- that terrible sound.

A scream like none ever left your body. Your throat ached but you couldn't stop. The water muddied your tears as he shoved your face back into the all too hot water. Boiling... No one heard your screams. no one ever would. Not a single soul... accept... Him, the man doing this too you was the only one that could stop this, he was the only one to hear your screams. Muffled by the water.

He eventually left. The game ended and he left you in the corner, a ball as you laid there. Your lip quivering, eyes watering, that pain in your chest- the horrible pain you couldn't explain. Your body shook as you finally let yourself sob into the floor. Ugly, like a wet dog. You didn't know why you felt your heart break the way it did.

No one would ever find you.

Because you were dead to them.

It was your fault.

Maybe if you reached out more often, they would have realized something strange was at play with your death.

If you had been a better girlfriend Tim would have found, you by now.

Maybe if they- if he knew you better?

Why had you been such a failure? Maybe if you where more well-known people would look into it.

Why?

Why did you end up here?

Why was the only thing you could hear that maniacs laugh?

That horrible cracker, filled with nothing but joy as he watched you squirm on the floor pinning you down and yelling at you as you screamed. "Calm down! Calm down!" He'd shout over and over like it was a fun game and those were just fun words!

Your only retreat was the small corner of the room. "Mom." You'd sob over and over again. "Mom please- I- help momma please."

She was the only one you can beg too.

It didn't matter that she would never be able to help you.

Your eyes burned, why did crying do that? Your chest felt empty, like someone scrapped away everything in it, scratching and cutting the sides of your heart. Gripping it and gripping it till it would pop.

The burning in your throats hurt but the only thing you could do was sob and shout.

You shouted till your throat felt like your heart. Scratched, empty yet full at the same time.

"Momma... Tim..." You sobbed, the only two names you could. "Why?" was the only thing you could cry.

"Now now, Why so serious?"

The clown crackled and laughed, that was the last thing you heard before something began beating at your back.

You'd die helplessly. It was strange, the only time you felt helpless… it was with him.

So you only smiled as the light around you- what little was let in faded.

"I... love you...Tim.”

BatFam! x Toddler! (GN!) Reader

Including: Jason Todd, Dick Grayson and Tim Drake

Masterlist

Thinking of batfam with a toddler reader who they have to babysit every other day.

Dick Grayson -

- Like whenever reader needs anything they immediately go to Dick, not even realizing that they're hurting the rest in the process.

- Like Bruce could be right Infront of them but they immediately waddle all the way over to Dick.

- He'll sit down and watch anything you want to watch or take you anywhere (but the batcave)in the manor.

- He'll never take you on patrol, your to young! Matter of fact he won't take you outside of the manor period. Your whole world is inside the manor.

Dick would never take you out of the manor but whenever Jason is home it's a whole different story.

Jason Todd -

As soon as gets back to the manor he's immediately heading to your room and taking you out to explore the world... without permission of course.

- Like Tim comes to your room to hang out after a long day of school work only to find that your not in your room nor in the house in general. Instead your somewhere in the most dangerous city in the world with a crime lord.

-But fret not, Jason's just taking you to the most secluded book store in Gotham to introduce you to the world of books.

- Either that or he's got you strapped to his back like a backpack fighting random thugs in the most dangerous alleyways in the Gotham.

Sibling bonding time is what he likes to call it!

Don't worry, at some point he'll return you home and by return I mean he'll ring the door bell, drop you off on the door step and run away as fast as he can so he doesn't get lectured by Alfred.

Tim Drake

With Tim there have been a lot of instances where you end up injured or somewhere your not supposed to be.

- Like that one time he had to babysit you but he also had school so he place you inside of his backpack along with a couple of your favorite snacks and told you to not come out unless he tells you to.

-Then in the middle of class everyone just sees a toddler's head peeking out of his bag.

- And everyone is so shocked that when you get out of the bag and waddle out the room they don't say anything. Tim doesn't even notice cause he's already face first into his notebook trying to catch some z's.

- Then a couple minutes later he's called to the principal's office to find out that you somehow got into the swimming room, slipped on the wet tiles, hit your knee on the edge of the swimming pool and somehow fell in.

-After that you were never allowed to go outside of the manor.

Overprotective Batfam making sure you get home safely in their patrol route! (Part 2)

Includes: Jason Todd and Tim Drake

Part 1

Masterlist

Jason Todd

Unlike the others Jason wouldn't walk alongside you or keep to the shadows, instead when he first saw you on his route he slowed down his motorcycle and offered you a quick ride home.

But what you thought would be a quick ride home was instead turned into a wild night you'd never forget.

You could feel the wind hit your face like a bag bricks as Jason continuously revved the engine.

The goons you'd been chasing had mistakenly crossed your path on your ride home, coming out of nowhere with a bag of money strapped to the back of the vehicle and a goon stood to the left of it. Probably protecting what you assumed to be stolen money.

"Um Mr.Redhoid you can put me off here" you'd taoped his shoulder to let him know but he simply ignored your statement and handed you a bloody crowbar.

"Since your here you might as well help me" he said and as soon as you heard those words you felt your soul attempt to leave your body.

Not out of fear of course, was this vigilante really allowing you to attack someone without receiving any repercussions?

You were starting to like this.

"Get the tires" he instructed to which you gladly got in position for.

When you noticed the distance between you and the vehicle closing in you wrapped your legs tightly around his waist and lowered yourself towards the the concrete of the road.

Anchoring yourself to his waist before swinging the crowbar above your head and striking the back tire of the vehicle, causing the vehicle to violently swerve off the road and crash into a nearby street light.

You could hear yourself let out a loud scream before an arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you back onto the seat of the motorcycle.

"Was that a scream of joy or fear?" He quickly came to a stop before turning to face you.

When his eyes landed in your face it was safe to say that he was quite amused. Your pupils were blown wide while your hair was shifted wildly all over you face.

You'd seemed to be in some sort of daze which lasted for the rest of the night. Not even noticing when he dropped you off to your house and left you dazed on your doorstep.

Tim Drake

Honestly he didn't mean to follow you around like that. For some reason he'd found himself getting into the habit of walking you home every evening.

Even when there was something else he was supposed to be doing he still found a way to walk you home every evening and after a while it seems like you found out about his sleep deprivation.

You weren't blind, you could see how the large eyecbags that peeked out from underneath the vigilantes mask. You noticed how he slurred his words when talking or how he'd trip over his own feet when walking beside you.

He was very good at hiding it but after while you started noticing how tired he truly was and even though you wanted to help out in some way you just knew there wasn't anything you could really do.

You tried thinking of ways to help but they'd always lead you back to square one.

You of course picked up on the strong hint of caffeine that always stuck to him like white on rice but you weren't gonna gift him coffee. That would just feed into his problem do instead you came up with a better idea.

You'd start taking short breaks on your way home.

You'd take a seat on any bench you'd see in your way home, the vigilante following closely behind you and seating himself next to you.

Then you'd try and coax him into using your shoulder as a little pillow to try to get some sleep and without much resistance he'd give in and rest his head onto your shoulder.

And even though Tim never actually fell asleep during your little breaks he'd still sit still and allow himself to relax.

At least during those few seconds of peace he could finally relax for the first time in a while.

Retired Villain

(⁠ ๑Batfam X Reader - Dick Grayson, Damian Wayne and Tim Drakeﾉ⁠♡ ⁠)

Masterlist

╠You'd put your reckless lifestyle behind in favor of living a boring civilian life, knowing that you wouldn't get anywhere in life if you kept getting beaten up and sent to jail over and over like it was the only thing life had to offer.

You thought that putting your past behind you and creating yourself a fresh start would finally put the bats off your trail...

But sadly for you, it had only taken your cities vigilantes about two weeks to find out where you lived.

Even though they'd found out where you lived and how you'd decided to turn your life around they didn't believe it.

And instead of taking the information at face value they'd decided to check up on you in person.

And that they did.

Now you would've thought that they'd leave you alone after just the first few times but no, they'd started popping up everywhere. Using the excuse of your old atrocities to monitor you almost every waking moment of the day.

And when I say every I mean every.

Your at the supermarket, buying food like everyone else and Nightwing just randomly shows up out of nowhere. Bugging you and using the excuse of monitoring you to justify his presence.

"I know times are dire but stealing milk from the supermart?" you could see his outline in your peripheral, propping himself up against the fridge next to you.

He's shaking his head playfully before moving to take your cart away from you. You knew he was aware that you weren't gonna steal anything but apparently teasing you was his new favorite hobby.

"For the last time, I'm not stealing anything from this store" you huffed before dumping the carton of milk into the cart he'd taken from you.

"This store, so how about the next one?"

You could already feel the gray hairs sprouting, it was like he was sucking all the energy out of you and you could do nothing about it.

Well, at least he helped you with the shopping right?

While your on your way making your way to work one of the Robins will just mysteriously appear next to you, specifically the youngest one. Always giving off a clear air of distaste towards your entire being but still accompanying you on your way to work.

"Don't you have school kid?" you ask, it was like nine in the morning and he was casually walking next to you as if he didn't have somewhere to be right now.

"I don't need to go to school, besides I'm stuck monitoring criminals like you" he stated and you could already feel him drilling holes into the side of your head.

This kid really has no chill...

"Well if it makes you feel any better I also don't like having people watch me 24/7" you could feel your shoulders sag at the thought of having to put up with the bat and his tiny army of children.

Even when you were simply relaxing in your humble abode they'd still had the audacity come ruin your little alone time.

You were just relaxing in your pyjamas, munching on some popcorn and enjoying the fact that for once you were finally all by yourself when suddenly a figure hauls themselves over the edge of your window sill and crashes onto the floor of your apartment.

Of course your quick to push yourself off your couch and grab a weapon from the hidden compartment in your chair only to realize that your intruder was just another one of batman's minions.

"Red, you can't be serious" you immediately drop you weapon and walk over to his crumpled form.

He looked like he just went through hell, which was pretty sad since you knew he was just a kid on the inside but batman's sidekicks always seemed a little on the younger side.

"Are you crashing for the night?" He'd already done this before, always denying the fact that he was staying the night but always ends up staying anyway.

"No, I'm not" he muttered to himself, crumpling even more into himself but flinching when one of his wounds comes into contact with his detached gear.

"Right, your monitoring me" you played along, allowing him to believe that he was leaving anytime soon but you could already see his body relaxing it self.

"By the way, your crashing on the couch Tonight" you'd at least allow him to stay somewhere in your house, knowing that the supposed 'Batcave' that they always spoke about was somewhere on the other side of Gotham.

He should be lucky that he's your favorite, because ain't no way were you allowing any of the other bats anywhere near your house. Let alone inside of it.╣

Sweet Like Candy

Pairing: Dick Grayson x Reader.

Warning: MDNI, Oral (F receiving), fingering, swearing, masked Dick.

Summary: Nightwing might just think you’re the best thing he’s ever tasted.

"I didn't think you'd come," you breathed as Nightwing's lips traveled from the nape of your neck down to your collar bone, your head tilting to allow him more access to your skin that he practically devoured.

He pressed a few more open kisses to your flesh, leaving marks in his wake before he pulled back slightly, a dazed look to his gaze despite the mask.

"How could I miss this opportunity?" Just as quickly, he was back to kissing you. "You taste so good."

The cool night breeze caused for goosebumps to litter your skin, and sitting on a rooftop of Gotham city with Nightwing was not exactly ideal, but in the current moment you couldn't care.

Your breaths became more irregular, and gently Nightwing pushed you onto your back, hands beside your head as he sucked at your neck some more.

"Relax," he trailed, hands running along your body. You gasped as his hand squeezed at one of your breasts, before he began to go down your body.

You lifted your head, eyeing him curiously when he gave you a small smirk, his black mask staring back at you. His gloved hands worked at your pants effortlessly, pulling them off along with your panties and throwing them off to the side, forgotten.

When he made no movement, you attempted to close your legs from the outside breeze and his burning gaze, but his arms were quickly pushing at the plush of your thighs, keeping them apart.

He clicked his tongue. "Keep 'em open, pretty girl," he whispered, your bare pussy only mere inches from his face. "Let me have a taste."

You let out a moan when you felt his warm tongue lay flat against your cunt, sliding up and collecting all your juices onto his tongue. Your fingers racked through his hair harshly, and you swore you may have even pulled some of his hair out, but it didn't seem to bother him too much. He was lapping at your pussy eagerly, and you let out a curse when his lips latched onto your clit. He gave it a small suck.

"Oh my god," your back arched up, trying to keep you as close to him as possible, but he only let out a chuckle that vibrated throughout your body. You shivered from the vibrations of pleasure it sent.

"So sweet," he mumbled against you.

He was slurping at your cunt like it was his last meal, his tongue fucking into you and swirling around. You already declared that this was better than what any man has ever given you. Your slick was coating his mouth and chin, though he pulled back and inhaled a large chunk of air.

"You taste fucking delicious," he breathed, staring your pussy down as his fingers came up to toy with your clit. You let out another moan and resisted the urge to close your legs.

He pinched and swirled at it teasingly, one of his fingers eventually dipping into you and curving upward, hitting your g-spot. His finger slid in and out, in and out. Then a second finger. In and out, in and out.

Your hands were desperately searching for anything to stable themselves against, since now you didn't have his hair to tug on. In the end, the only thing you could grasp onto was his left arm that was holding your leg down. Nightwing glanced up and gave another one of his charming smirks.

Although you and Nightwing have had these reoccurring 'meetups' many times before, you never asked the lingering question you wished to ask him when he was pleasuring you.

"Wha-" you were cut off by a strangled moan, and you tried again despite the coursing pleasure building in your lower stomach. "What's your name?"

You wanted to scream it, to moan it, you needed to have him.

His mask only shook back at you. "Nothing you need to know right now, my love," he delved down to suckle at your clit again, and the buildup was finally beginning to become too much for you to handle.

Your breaths were erratic, your chest rising and falling at a rapid pace. Nightwing loved the sight, your body adorned and glowing in your sweat and your glistening pussy presented just for him. All him.

With a few more pumps of his fingers and a particularly harsh suck to your swollen clit, your orgasm washed over you in a massive wave. Your thighs shook and overstimulation was all you could feel when Nightwing was collecting your last few juices on his tongue, swallowing eagerly.

You were definitely right. Nightwing was the best pleasure anybody could've given you.

©x-gabrielle-x. Do not steal, copy or translate my works.

Withered Cards | III

Pairings: Jason Todd x Reader.

Warnings: Blood, gore, violence, murder, swearing, major and minor injuries, death.

Summary: Despite the many different problems you overcome with Jason Todd, you always eventually make it back to each other. Even after his death, how could you still love a man who changed so much? Even when you made a turn for the worst.

Series Masterlist

"Mistakes are not something you can afford to make, Jason," Bruce commented, though his gaze was trained on the screen before him. "I told you this was an intel mission. You should have waited for my queue."

Jason adjusted his position on the chair he was currently sat on, his gaze burning into Bruce's back the longer he continued to stare at the projective computer before him. The tape that he had collected from the mission played on repeat, and truthfully, it was becoming painful for Jason having to rewatch it over and over.

Yes, he had been given strict orders to merely stay hidden within the shadows and report back to Batman with the intel he was instructed to gather, but Jason wanted to do more than be a sidekick to gather information.

“How was that a mistake?” He retorted, pointing to the screen. “If I hadn’t gone, you would have never known what was happening down there.”

Finally, Bruce turned in his chair, his voice just as deep as always. Like a parent scolding his child - which was true to an extent.

"You're telling me that you found out what that whole ordeal was about?" He questioned, gesturing a hand to the screen. "Because it sure doesn't look like you do."

It angered Jason more than he would have liked to admit that Bruce was mostly right. The most Jason knew was that the Joker was up to something, but when was he not? The best possible answer he got was that he has an alliance of some sort. You seemed to be around his age, possibly younger, and yet you were one of the most skilled fighters he's fought. You were experienced, and no doubt deadly.

His nose ached from the harsh punch that you had thrown, the wet rag that was now soaked with crimson blood was discarded beside him.

When Bruce noticed his silence, he continued to ignore him from then on. His fingers dancing along the computer and leaving an uncomfortable silence that Jason wished to break.

Alfred walked in with a tray of coffee; something Bruce had waved him off to go and grab whilst he worked. Whilst the silence lingered, Alfred's gaze flickered up to the screen of the masked girl.

"I do not recognize this criminal," Alfred spoke as he settled the tray down. "Have we seen this girl before?"

Bruce shook his head, a frown etched on his features. "No, but there have been witnesses. Apparently, she's only shown up around Gotham the past two months."

Alfred hummed. “And what does this criminal do, exactly?”

Bruce pushed his body away from the desk with a long sigh, his brows still pinched into a deep frown as his hand dragged down his face. “Jason’s body cam just managed to pick up a little of their conversation before she ran off. The Joker is in on this, too. She knows him, and well.”

Jason's curiosity was piqued. What was the Joker's intentions, now? Surely it was another scheme to lure Batman into a trap.

“Perhaps another laughing gas?” Alfred suggested as he glanced over at Jason, gesturing toward the tea as he offered to pour some, but Jason shook his head.

"Not a laughing gas," Jason concluded, digging into the suit that he still wore. He pulled out the familiar vial that he had managed to snatch from the masked girl, holding it up for everybody's view. "I'm thinking maybe a drug, or maybe some sort of crazy mutation serum!" He looked between the two, a satisfied smirk on his face.

Bruce remained silent for a moment, his gaze never leaving the vial in his son's hand. Jason was expecting praise, a congratulations, maybe even a pat on the back and allowed more freedom whilst on patrol. But Bruce's face remained stoic.

"Jason," he started, tone very far from what he had expected. Was it anger? Disappointment? Shock?

He was quick to saunter over and take the vial from his hand, analyzing it carefully as he twisted it in his grasp.

With a shake of his head, his frown deepened. If that were even possible. He placed the vial carefully onto the desk beside the computer.

"You're too reckless," he began. "Not only did you go against my orders, but now you are involved with a crime much deeper than what you can handle. You've put yourself in danger. And not only yourself," he pointed to the screen again. "But you got her in danger, too."

Jason felt his anger boil, ready to spill over any second. Could Bruce not see his success for once? Could he not give him the approval he desperately wished for? It was risky, but he had got the job done.

"I did what I had to," he defended, the anger evident in his voice as he took a step closer.

Bruce quickly snapped back. "And what you did was wrong."

A pause.

"Next time something like this happens, you follow my order... otherwise the title of Robin goes to somebody else."

In the heat of his rage, Jason stormed past both Bruce and Alfred and made his way out of the Batcave, cape flowing behind him with every long stride. Before the door had slammed shut, he just managed to hear a little of Alfred's voice.

"They're both just children, Master Wayne," he tried. "Much like you once were."

"I can't have him making more mistakes."

A harsh slap landed against your cheek, your head snapping to the side from the force. The burning sensation left behind caused for your eyes to sting with tears, your vision blurred.

His maniacal laughter was all you could hear despite the ringing in your ears, and you didn't fail to notice the very evident annoyance behind each deep inhale of laughter.

"I can't believe it!" Joker paced. "You really let that little rodent slip past your fingers, just like that? My, my, I might have placed just a little too much faith in you."

He crouched down before you, masking a frown as his thumb came up to swipe the blood from your lip. Your tongue darted out to swipe at the cut he had left, the metallic taste lingering in your mouth.

"I must say I am very disappointed," Joker hummed, but oddly enough his hand came to rest on your shoulder, like an odd way of comforting. "But that's why there's always room to learn from mistakes!"

The vial that you were sent to retrieve merely a few hours ago was no longer tucked away safely in your pocket.

You had only realized once you were in front of Joker's latest warehouse that he used as a current hideout, your hands searching every pocket, each shoe, in search for the vial. Robin had managed to slip it out without you noticing, and it enraged you.

He was fast, skilled, and very obviously sly. Although it was a tough fight, it brought some adrenaline and excitement into your night. Something you had craved for a while.

Joker clicked his tongue in thought, now sat on a torn couch across from you with his leg propped up on his knee.

"You'll make it up to me, right, my little clown?" his tone was almost mocking. "Perhaps next time you might run into the little birdy again, oh, that would spice things up!"

You inhaled a shaky breath. "I'll get it back," you said, but he waved you off.

"Nah, I'll just get the doc to make me a new one. Although, we can't afford any more mistakes now, can we, Y/N?"

He looked at you expectingly, dread washing over you the longer his gaze pierced your own.

"No, we can't."

"That's my girl!" He clapped his hands. "Harley! Come get the poor girl cleaned up, will ya? She looks like she's been through hell!" He let out a loud cackle at what he considered a joke, slapping his knee.

Harley's head popped from around the corner of the cracked wall, pigtails swinging with every movement she made. With one look at you, she was rushing over.

"Puddin, what happened?" She practically squealed, ushering you to stand up, though the small smile never left her lips. "Oh dear, let's get you all nice and cleaned up!"

The bathroom that she had practically dragged you into smelt of urine and had broken tiles scattered across the floor. Mold was growing along the ceiling and puddles of water crowded at the base of the sink. You had to hold back the look of disgust when Harley took a small rag and wet it under some water.

It wasn't long until Harley was finally finished with dabbing your split lip with the cold water and tending to the few cuts you had littered over your flesh. It was a poorly done job, but the moment you had got to step into your own small room - a storage space that barely managed to fit the worn mattress you used to sleep on, you were instantly flopping down.

It was quiet and dark, but nothing that you weren't already used to. You enjoyed having some time away from the two clowns, after all.

Looking over, you reached for the same small bear that you've kept over the years, only now it wasn't as soft as it used to be, and the familiar smell of your old home was gone from the fur. Instead, it was now covered in dirt and grime. A button had been sewn on poorly as an eye after the last had fallen off, and its right arm was barely hanging on by a thread. Still, you carefully held it against your body as you laid on your side, alone and tense.

Your mind refused to settle, thoughts swarming with the Robin boy who had managed to make your night go from alright to horrific in only a few hours.

He had outplayed you - tricked you - and still somehow, he had managed to get your mind swimming. Your fight was oddly thrilling, and it confused you with his cocky comments. Batman was nowhere to be seen, meaning that Robin had let you go. Why?

Your knuckles had tightened their hold on the bear, a reminder of your life before any of this had happened. You didn't dwell on it, knowing that there was no way back. But the sadness lingered once you buried your face into the soft fur, allowing for the sleep to catch up to you. As usual it was never a peaceful one, but instead filled with nightmares and an all too familiar wide grin.

@annabellelee @stormz369

©x-gabrielle-x. Do not steal, copy or translate my works.

Alfred’s extra help

Batfamily x new maid part 1

The past couple years haven't been kind to Alfred. Although, he would never admit it... His years have slowly been catching up with him. After a recent attack on the household, Alfred took it upon himself to hire some extra part time help during the school year. The new help just so happened to be a college band kid in desperate need of money. This is how it went.

Jason:

It was the little things, Jason had decided, that made the family enjoy the extra addition to the household. The faint singing that could be heard three doors down as she made her usual morning rounds. Dusting. Bleaching . Sweeping. It didn't matter what she was doing: music always played in her head. If you were lucky, sometimes you'd get to hear it too.

Alfred:

Monday Mornings were Alfred's favorite. After a long weekend of dealing with super-powered vigilantism, Alfred looked forward to the way she would clock into Wayne Manor with shy grin. It didn't take much prompting to get a play by play of how the Gotham U football game went. The Batfamily had never considered her being targeted by Batman's Rogue Gallery until Halftime was interrupted by the Joker emerging from a comically large birthday cake. When reinforcements arrived, they were shocked to discover the entire Color Guard beating the Joker senseless with their wooden rifles. To any outsider, this would have appeared to be part of the choreography with the way each guard member chanted "5,6,7,8 SLAM DOWN."

Y/N couldn't figure out why Nightwing, Red Hood, and Red Robin had all come to check on her until Monday morning when the door opened to reveal a hallway full of smiling Wayne's. Even Damian couldn't help, but give her a hug... after an intense lecture on how dangerous the Clown Prince of Crime was.

Even more confusing was the way Damien's older brother, Jason, would always end up forgetting something at the manor when she worked. After chatting for a couple hours, she would say her goodbyes and silently acknowledge the fact he left empty handed... again.

Damien:

Damien admired the dedication on display. In the early morning mist when she thought nobody was awake, the wooden rifle would make an appearance. With the kitchen wiped down and the oven on self cleaning, all there was to do was wait. Damien admired her resilience when practicing rifle. Each brutal slap of the wood and metal on skin had to be painful, but she never complained when the bruises littered up and down her forearms. She was radiant. In her element, it was easy to get distracted by the crisp rotations on display. One day, he hoped she would feel comfortable enough to show him a few tricks... until then he enjoyed his early morning performances.

Dick:

Dick had warned her against working for Bruce from the beginning. The Bats mood swings could drain even the sweetest of souls. The relentless pursuit of a better Gotham has always been tainted by the blood of those lost. Bruce Wayne was not always known as the nicest guy to work for. Yet, after years of witnessing the tragedies of Gotham... Dick couldn't help, but notice the way her eyes shone with excitement whenever they would visit a new part of the city. The alley Scarecrow tested his fear toxin for the first time now is littered with book shops, ice cream parlors, diners, etc. In each street that’s rooted with trauma, a new sprout of hope grows out of the shadows. The quiet formality that he had grown accustomed to growing up in the Manor faded away. It was a nice change.

Tim:

Tim didn't even notice there was a change in the household until he stumbled into her conversation with Jason for the 3rd time that week. Typically, her shift would have been over at 3pm, but since her classes had been canceled that day she had worked overtime. With Jason's sudden reappearance after months of no contact, Tim took note of the way his older brother's voice deepened ever so slightly whenever she was in the room. Or how during Saturday night patrol they always managed to spot Red Hood "doing business" on a building close enough to the stadium to watch halftime. If anybody questioned it, Jason would have fiercely denied any interest claiming that he was merely "watching out for the Joker".

Tim mostly minded his business whenever she was working. His night life tended to consume most of his waking time, so if he got sleep (big if) he tended to wake up hours after she left. Mostly he appreciated the cute little animals she would make out of the groceries that week. One day, he opened the fridge to a cheese ball that looked like a turkey. Two olives made the eyes and each of the turkeys feathers were made out of crackers. His favorite had to be when she made a Robin out of Bell peppers and Grapes. Tim had left his sketchbook out the night before flipped to that exact drawing. After she had cleaned the kitchen, she left the treat along with a note explaining how beautiful she thought the drawing was.

Tea Time with Alfred

Context: Alfred has always been a close family friend of your Grandma. After her death both of you haven't been dealing with the grief very well, so you decide to start hanging out more to ease the pain. (Y/G/N: your grandma’s name)

Knocking on the door to Wayne Manor, I fumble with the basket of muffins in my left hand. A very confused Jason opens the door.

"Look Y/N..." He begins awkwardly shifting his balance. Guilt spreads across his sculpted features.

"With love, I'm not here for you." I interrupt putting my hand up to silence him, "Whatever you have to say, save it for another time."

Brushing past him, I wander down the hallway past a dozen or so portraits of the Wayne family. With the high ceilings and shelves filled with books older than my great Grandma, I narrowly get lost in the grandeur. One of the glass shelves catches my attention. A much younger looking Alfred beams up at me while a soaked brunette angrily swats at his shoulder with a shoe. My heart contracts when I recognize the woman. Years before she got sick, Y/G/N was radiant. Although the photo is in black and white, I know for certain she is wearing her faithful orange sweater that was in rags by the time I came around. The photo reads: Alfred's revenge London 1965. My eyes well up with tears at the thought of her being so healthy. The image of how frail she looked in that hospice bed will forever be burned in my heart.

The next photo over shows Alfred, Grandma, and I at my first visit to Gotham. Freshly nine, Gotham was such an adventure. Driving into the city was... nothing short of magical. There may have been crime in every corner, but her stories brought much needed light into the city. My 9 year old self hadn't yet grown into herself. With cracked glasses I had broken moments prior and aggressively neon braces, my fashion had a long way to go. I was probably too big to go on Alfred's shoulders at that point, but he picked me up anyway for the walk around the city. The crowded boardwalk behind us sold the best deep fried oreos in Gotham city. A teenager at the time, Dick had convinced me that the secret ingredient was cocaine... As an adult looking at Gotham city, that joke may not be too far off.

The infamous smell of Alfred's baking grounds me to the present. Dickie isn't stealing my gameboy anymore. He's happily living in Bludhaven revamping their police force. Shit, I really need to call him back. How do you tell someone that if you talk about it there is no guarantee that the crying will ever stop?

It doesn't matter what he’s been saying. It's better to not burden him with this. I take a deep breath to avoid a breakdown. Cookies. Tea time. Glancing at my watch, I realize I'm five minutes late. Classic y/n.

Alfred's back is to me when I finally stumble into the kitchen. A mischievous grin emerges on my face as I creep closer making a conscious effort to silence my footsteps. Jason used to say that watching the two of us sneak up on each other was like watching a cheetah stalking its prey. Of course, Alfred always made it look so easy though. Halfway there....

Stirring a bowl of brownie batter by hand, he calls out to me.

"You've got to do a lot better than that if you want to sneak up on me."

I stifle a laugh throwing my hands up in surrender.

"Sorry Alfie.... Old habits die hard. You would not believe what happened to me today..."

Conversing with the older man fills a void, I have been missing. Telling him about life made everything less scary. If I can spin these horrifying events into a joke during tea time.. well I guess I can survive it.

Alfred isn't one to diverge intense grief, yet I will never forget how heartbroken he was when he explained how painful it was to talk to me. Although our features may be completely different, it was the mannerisms that hurt the most to see: the way I held my hands when I was nervous, the anxious laughter in stressful situations, the silly regency romance novels that sat on my bedside table, the intense hatred of the barren winter... My entire being has been shrouded by her love. For better or worse.

The first couple months, I could almost pretend she wasn't gone. Working two jobs while attending school doesn't give me much time to reflect. However, the holidays left an unspoken hollow void. The empty seat at dinner. The contact I would instinctively dial. The horrible sinking in my chest when I remembered the phone would ring forever.

At the beginning, I think we both pretended we were talking to her. Now as I cackle over his photo collection of Tim falling asleep in public places, I realize how much I love the man who was so important to her. This pain may always stay with me, but what is grief if not love persevering?

The Intern: The Laughing Fish

Gotham harbor buzzes with energy this morning. Fishermen compete for the best catch. Dozens of workers prep the yachts for their bosses rich escapades. Even the seagulls are hard at work today, eagerly searching the docks for their next meal. A perfect image of regular people living their lives. Unfortunately if we've been called, then something must be going horribly wrong. Judging from the crowd of distressed fishermen forming towards the end of the boardwalk, my gut feeling was right.

As I draw near the distressed crowd, a familiar voice rises above the rest.

"We are sending our best people to look into this. Keep an eye out for a press conference by the end of today." Detective Gordon addresses the crowd.

The crowd erupts in a chorus of anger.

"You've got to be kidding me."

"I'm going to brutalize that clown!"

"God, I hate this city."

Behind the greying Detective stands a very sour looking Dr. Harris. I maneuver my way through the crowd next to him.

"Dr." I greet from behind.

Dr. Harris says nothing while attempting to catch a slippery fish.

"How adept are you at evolutionary biology?" He eventually asks through the sweat beating down his face.

"I dabble..." I respond growing closer to peer over his shoulder.

Dr. Harris grabs a fish with his bare hands. Before I can move the wiggling vertebrate leaps from his hands directly at my face.

"Catch it!" Dr. Harris hisses.

The flying tang leaves a wet trail across my cheek before dropping into my hands. The poor fish fights with everything it has to get away. Against all odds, I manage to wrangle the wiggle worm into a somewhat sturdy position in my palms.

Once the fish slows a bit, I notice something. The fish is smiling. A big yellow toothy smile with a red outline that one could mistake for lips. The external scales have turned a peculiar, yet familiar shade of pearly white. Both the pelvic fin and the pectoral fin have developed into a contrasting shade of dark green.

If I didn't know any better, I would say it looked like-

"Joker..." A voice growls interrupting my thoughts.

Turning to face our new arrival, I almost laugh at what I see. Batman's suit looks a little goofy in the morning light. Maybe even a little warm in the humid air. The cowl has a slight shine to it. Dr. Harris immediately begins explaining our situation to the Caped Crusader.

"This batch came in last night. We don't know how or why. The working hypothesis is that this may be a side effect of the Jokers latest toxin."

"Is it deadly?" Batman questions eyeing the gasping fish in my hands.

"Not to the fish. We should get the test results back by noon if we start soon."

Batman nods.

"Let me know what you find out."

I take pity on the fish and throw it back with the rest. Most of my life I've struggled with asthma: I know the feeling.

"What would he have to gain from this?" I wonder aloud.

Turning to the Dark Knight, I am stunned to realize there is nobody there. Batman disappeared. Doing a 360, I notice a dark figure hiding in the shadows on the nearest boat.

Huh.. Maybe the dark suit doesn't look so dumb in the daylight after all.

Dr. Harris smiles at me for the first time. My heart pounds. This can't be good.

"Didn't you say that you liked smoothies?"

I do like smoothies, but why does this feel like a test? I nod slowly.

"I hope you didn't eat anything too heavy this morning. We'll need to prep quite a bit of samples."

I narrow my eyes. Samples are typically liquid. How would we make fish.... Oh my God... This cannot be happening.

"Don't we need to test the water for excess nutrients? We don't want an algae bloom to form from the toxin."

There's a glint that forms underneath his unnecessarily large glasses.

"All in good time dear. We can worry about that after lunch."

Hoisting the barrel of Joker fish into the bed of his pick up truck, Dr. Harris teases down at me.

"After we prep those samples, how about fish and chips? I'm having a craving."

Part 3

The Intern: Outreach Gala

Another uneventful day for Gotham's environmental intern...

Part 1- Day one

Part 2- The Joker Fish

Part 4- The Billionaire Boys Club

Gotham's public library appears unrecognizable under the cloak of night. Broad leaves shroud the outside exterior of the Gothic pillars while ivy cascades down the large door frames. Harris raises an eyebrow.

"How many forests do you think Wayne destroyed in his quest to save the planet?" He questions with a smirk.

Each grey hair is perfectly gelled out of his face. Ditching his glasses for the occasion, Dr. Harris may actually care about tonight's guests. The bouncer outside the door seemed to think the dress code was not a laughing matter.

Taking his extended arm, I roll my eyes. The security guy nods to the two of us as we walk through the door.

"Professor, if you keep saying things like that Gordon's going to question your stances on Gotham's resident Eco-terrorist. " I whisper with a smile. "....but at least 12."

Thanks to the joint collaboration between Wayne Industries, Goth-corp, and the Gotham Department of Environmental Protection. Gotham City is hosting its first Environmental Outreach Gala for the nearby tri-state area. Unfortunately for me, they saddled the newest intern to do all the heavy lifting. Young joints and all that jazz. At least I got an invite. The invites ran out before the IT guy could get one. Poor Eddie.

My heart flutters a little bit as a realization hits me. I’m actually here… surrounded by giants in clean energy and the scientific community alike. Award-winning journalists... All for the future of our planet. Passing my reflection, I smile thinking of how far I’ve come from that little river rat back at home.

A figure in the corner of my eye draws my thoughts away from the Grandma debrief. Dick Grayson, the Billionaire’s son, charms the group of ladies by his side. I take a mental note to find time to talk to him when there isn’t such a big crowd. Having someone in Bruce Wayne’s ear might be an asset.

The walls echo with the idle chatter coming from the rich socialites of Gotham. Waiters in tuxedos maneuver silently with a tray of champagne flutes in each hand. Considering, that most environmental professionals wear cargo pants from the early 2000s to work... the dress code was definitely a choice. I scan the room for familiar faces. Gordon flashes me a smile from across the room. I nod back. The Mayor works his way around the room with a large smile. It must be an election year.

My throat gets tight. I'm not ready for this. Looking to my right, I find that Dr. Harris has vanished into the crowd.

"Y/N L/N?" A voice calls distracting me from my nerves.

A well-dressed man strolls over. Something about him puts me on edge. Maybe it's his wicked smile or the large emerald ring on his outstretched hand. He walks with an easy air of confidence.

"Lex Luthor."

My heart does a little tap dance in my chest. The tight fabric of my rental dress makes it hard to breathe. I shake his hand politely. The party-goers go quiet around us. From the corner of my eye, Lois Lane, an investigative reporter from Metropolis, shoves through the crowd. So much for being a fly on the wall.

"I recently worked with a Professor of yours. She had a lot to say about your graduate proposal."

This cannot be happening. Memories of those long fights in the lab flash in the back of my mind. Mr. Luthor's cat-like gaze observes my reaction curiously.

I cover my face in embarrassment. That woman deserves hate mail. I could have at least been asked to type or spell-check it beforehand.

"To be frank, I originally chose the topic to get a rise outta her. Dr. Hendrix had me doing dishes for 3 weeks straight after I accidentally messed up a sample, so I wrote a proposal I knew she wouldn't like."

When I finally uncover my face, Luthor stares down at me with an amused grin.

"Even so. I'd like to discuss potential funding opportunities in Metropolis. If this is something you would think up out of boredom, I'd love to see what you can do when you put your mind to it."

That brings a smile to my face.

"Really? Everyone who I've brought it up to has been apprehensive about researching Kryptionian radiation.

"We need more scientists to ask questions Ms. L/N. Even the ones, that people don't want to know the answer to. "

The sullen green glow draws my eye once again to Mr. Luthor's ring finger... Wait, that's not an emerald. That's Kryptonite.

"Is this a personal interest of yours?" I ask slowly glancing between his eyes and his ring.

"In some ways."

An unspoken conversation occurs when he notices my acknowledgement of his strange choice of jewelry. The silence only creates more questions. Why would you wear something you know is irradiated?

"I hope to hear from you soon." Mr. Luthor concludes after handing me a business card, "There is always a spot at Lexcorp for a future scientist with your talents."

I stand there in silence watching him leave. The sleek modern design of the card lists only the bare essentials: his name, office address, and contact information in silver lettering.

Four hours ago, I was hauling boxes for the decorating committee. Huh. A nearby waiter offers a champagne flute from the tray. Respectfully, I turn them down. This dress costs more than my rent.

“Oh no. Thank you. I am… working.”

"Does work-life balance not apply to interns?” A voice interrupts.

I try not to roll my eyes at the "intern" comment. The constant reminders of my status are getting old. Starting at his perfectly buffed dress shoes, my gaze drags along the fabric of his black designer suit. Dick Grayson sure does like to make an entrance. With his dark curls and friendly blue eyes, there's something familiar about him. I can't quite put my finger on it... Sipping on his drink, he waits for my response with a teasing grin. His energy is contiguous. I ignore his question to ask my own instead.

“Has anyone told you that you tend to appear out of nowhere?”

His striking eyes light up with a mischievous glint.

“You have no idea.” He laughs introducing himself, “I’m Dick Grayson.”

“So I’ve heard.” I joke gesturing to the envious eyes from across the room.

He raises a curious eyebrow.

“Good things I hope?”

Glancing around the room, I ignore the dozen eyes staring daggers in my direction. Academia can be such a bitch.

“Nothing too crazy: a few murders, unfounded accusations, and you might be an alien?”

Dick Grayson grimaces while tilting his head ever so slightly. He swirls his drink, yet doesn't take a sip.

“Sounds about right. Anything you believe? “

I pause... Do I play coy?

“I’m not sure an alien could do a quadruple summersault.”

Something flashes in his eyes that I don’t quite understand. For a moment, I wonder if I should have held my tongue. His suspicion morphs into the first genuine smile I've seen all evening.

“You’ve done your homework Ms. L/N.”

Before I can respond, a scream causes the ballroom to descend into chaos. Vines shoot out from under the floorboards while the native plants start attacking the guest. A woman with flaming red hair paces the floor. Her vines wrap around each person one by one…. A thorny bush springs out of a fallen leaf snagging my delicate rental dress.

Dammit Pamela. We talked about this.

Glancing at the bartender's horrified expression, I frown.

“I change my mind. I’ll have that drink now.”