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gay-dorito-dust · 3 days

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Hiiii I was looking to see if your request is open but couldn’t find it so I’ll just drop it here and feel free to write it :) I love your writings! 🌸

May I ask for batboys reacting to shy reader who wants them to lie down on her lap after their long day. She wants to praise them, play with their hair and shower them with kisses :0 thank you!

Dick:

Would rest his head on your lap regardless of whether you asked him to do not, your lap was the perfect pillow for him and he will not have it any other way.

‘Hi baby.’ He greets as he beams up at you from the comfort of your lap.

‘Hi honey, long day?’ You greeted back, your hands already finding their way into his hair and began to comb through it slowly as he hums, burrowing himself closer to you as a means to feel more of you against him.

‘Yeah but it’s nothing I can’t handle.’ Dick replied and smiled wide when you kissed his cheek before kissing his nose, and felt his heart melt upon giggling you giggling when he scrunched up his face.

‘Is there nothing that my handsome man can’t do?’ You asked sarcastically as you pressed a kiss to his other cheek. ‘Or is he just the most perfect man in existence?’

Dick made a face at this. ‘Have you maybe considered that this handsome man of yours has an amazing, wonderful and beautifully cute spouse waiting at home for him as inspiration?’ He looks at you with a raised brow.

‘I’m the one who’s meant to be praising you tonight, not you praising me.’ You chuckled as you peppered his face in small, quick kisses that had Dick reaching a hand to the back of your head, holding you close so he could give you a plethora of kisses of his own.

‘Well what if we could just both praise the other tonight.’ Dick said against your lips.

‘I can deal with that.’ You replied as you spent the rest of the night whispering sweet nothings to one another and trading kisses.

Jason:

Your lap was his save haven after a long and tiresome day from having to listen to Bruce critique his way of ridding crime out of Gotham. So he wasn’t going to refuse your affection, not when you shyly patted your lap as an invite to rest his head and looking cute whilst doing so.

God had his permission to smite him to his second death should he actually refuses your requests to coddle him and shower him in all your love and adoration.

If anything the days where you offered up your lap to him were the best days of his entire life as he got to spend it looking up at an absolute angel that he was lucky enough to call his own.

‘How’s my gorgeous jay birdie feeling today?’ You asked as you kissed his along his jaw and stopping when you got to his chin.

‘I’m feeling fantastic now that I’m with you sweetheart. How about you.’ He replied back as he looked up at you with his pretty eyes that he knew made you weak. Jason only wanted to give you back the love and support that you give him on a daily basis tenfold, for it’s what you truly deserved in his eyes.

He loved you too much to allow you to settle for mediocrity.

‘I’m feeling much better now my strong, brave boy has come home to me safe and one less bruise to ice.’ You responded with a lighthearted chuckle as you lifted up one of his large hands and pressed a kiss to the back of it, before resting your cheek against it to commemorate his warmth and callouses to memory.

‘Don’t come at me with that sweetheart, I know you love icing my bruises, especially when they’re on my abdomen.’ Jason cheeked as he winked at you, taking pure enjoyment out of seeing your flustered face. It was a much needed breath of fresh air coming home to sweet, caring you from the cold, unforgiving outside and he cherished every bit of it for as long as he could.

‘Meanie.’ You murmur, booping him on the nose.

‘Meanie? How am I being mean chipmunk, I know how much you love my abs and my thighs.’ Jason chuckled as he booped your nose in retaliation. ‘Why do you think I never skip leg day?’

‘You’re more than perfect the way you are Jason,’ you countered, ‘perfect body or not you’re still my jay birdie. Forever and always.’ You whispered the last part as you pressed a sweet tender kiss to his lips as he smiled in response.

Tim:

He always finds himself perpetually tired from working himself to the bone, so when you offered up your lap for him to rest, the poor man practically sighed in relief, almost as if he were a man dying of thirst in the desert; finally having found the oasis he had been wandering aimlessly for.

‘You don’t know how much I needed this.’ Tim groans as he made himself comfortable in your lap, trying his hardest to not to close his eyes right then and there from the prepping of light kisses you were scattering across his forehead and under his eyes.

Gosh he hates how weak he gets from your little kisses but would die a little on the inside if you didn’t.

‘I’m sure I can take a guess.’ You said sweetly as you ran your hand through his hair. ‘You’ve been overworking yourself so much lately that I rarely see you as much,’ Tim’s stomach dropped upon hearing this but let you finish speaking, ‘but when I do see you it always makes me happy knowing that you’re okay.’ You then pressed a kiss to his cheek.

‘I’m sorry for-‘ you cut him off by pressing a finger to his lips, muttering a soft ‘don’t. Don’t blame yourself for things you can’t control.’

‘But I can control it!’ Tim exclaimed. ‘It’s not fair on you to exhaust yourself on me every night after patrol and still find it within yourself to take care of me…I don’t deserve any of it as it feels as though I’m taking advantage of you somehow.’ Tim trailed off as he looked away for you as guilt are away at him.

‘Tim,’ you called, ‘my sweet Tim as long as I know your okay and come home to me every night, then I don’t care how long I have to stay up just catch a glimpse of your handsome face.’ You reassured him as you kissed his jawline softly, and Tim felt himself weaken under your words and affection as he looked back up at you.

‘You really mean that?’ He asked almost quietly.

‘I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it with all my heart my sweet, smart boy.’ You said while pressing a singular kiss to his forehead.

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superhero--imagines · 1 year

Text

Bat Boys on Valentines Day

Dick Grayson

* Made reservations a month ago

* Cross-checked the regular menu and seasonal menu to make sure there were things you’d like and conformed to your dietary preferences

* Surprises you with flowers and a big ticket high-fashion item like a Luis Vuitton bag or a pair of shoes

* When he hands it over the shocked look on your face makes him smile.

* You shower him with kisses in a second.

* “I” *kiss* “love” *kiss* “you” *kiss* “so” *kiss* “much!”

* He laughs at the ticklish feeling and kisses you back when it’s over.

* “No, I love you so much.”

Jason Todd

* He hates crowds and decides to make you a nice pleasant meal at home.

* He decided the menu over a month ago, a full four course meal with curated cocktails, wine and ambiance.

* He ‘borrows’ some fine dining dishes from the manor and sets the table up with candles and a bouquet of flowers.

* “Do you like it?” He asks, nervous and afraid—he cooks for himself all the time but cooking for you makes him afraid beyond belief

* What if you don’t like it? What if you have a secret allergy? What if you never want to talk to him again because he didn’t take you out like a traditional date?

* “I love it! The risotto is so good and, are these truffles?”

* Afterwards he gives you some books he knows you want or that you would like and pressed flower bookmarks that he made himself.

* “Jason Todd, you are my entire heart.”

Tim Drake

* He forgets.

* “I thought Valentine’s Day was always on Thursday!” He shrieks, flipping through the phone book for any restaurant that’ll take you.

* “That’s Thanksgiving Tim.”

* But it’s okay—

* “Shit, you think dominos will still deliver today?” You shout from the other side of the room.

* —because you forgot too.

* You have pizza in bed while watching movies and cuddling.

* “This isn’t the worst right?” He asks.

* “Any day with quality time with you is a good day.” You mumble after a yawn, cuddling into his chest as he flushed bright pink.

Duke Thomas

* Classic Dinner and a Movie

* You guys haven’t been dating for long so he doesn’t want to scare you off with anything intense.

* You end up goofing around too long at the arcade connected to the movie theatre and missing your reservation slot.

* You end up getting soft pretzels and sitting by the lake.

* “Honestly, I think this is way better than eating at a French restaurant.”

* He laughs, “any time with you is a good one.”

Damian Waybe

* It’s a three person date — You, Damian, and Titus.

* You go for a walk around the lake, playing with Titus and jokingly splashing each other, and then a picnic on the grassy bluff above.

* “It’s pretty quiet today, huh?”

* “Everyone’s probably at the new french restaurant downtown.” He holds out a dipped strawberry for you which you bite into.

* “The one you can pronounce?”

* You laugh at his frown, pressing a kiss to his cheek, only to laugh again when Titus nudges you with his nose and places his head in your lap with a wagging tag.

* “Of course I didn’t forget you, kisses for Titus too!”

Bonus:

Bruce Wayne

* Wines and dines and sixty-nines you

* He’s probably got a standing reservation at the best restaurant in the city on account of the fact that he’s richer than god

* Gets a private room or balcony that overlooks the city so you have privacy but also the glitz and glam of a night out

* Already called ahead of time and got the chef to make your favorite dinner—just for you

* As a gift he gives you six orgasms in a row a cute little diamond accessory with his initial in gold.

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lightwing-s · 4 months

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I've been STARVING for anything with our Tim boy, so, what about a mean girl!reader in middle/high school (or at least the short period he was in school) that she randomly goes to him and "You're my boyfriend now, nerdola" — and then simply the friendship starts.

If you can't do this, it's fine luv <3

Tim sat back in his armchair, his computer resting on his lap as he typed away something his mind wasn’t trying to focus on anymore. In it, just your image behind his screen, eyes roaming over a book and the countless notes scattered on top of the table in front of you.

Nerd, he thought to himself, and smiled at the irony that word carried in your relationship.

It was many years ago, you two just freshly out of your diapers, playing around the garden of your old school. Tim always sat aside, seeing the kids playing together while he was usually left out. Until this boy, Michael, would come religiously to him, call him names, drop his juice on the floor, and fill his lunchbox with sand.

Tim hated him, and wanted to punch him, but at that time he was too small and untrained to even dare to do so. But you, that’s another story.

When you saw Michael slapping his juice from his hand you came running towards him. You kicked poor Michael’s little legs and pushed him to the floor until his mouth was full of sand and he was crying after one of your teachers.

“You're a weak little bwaby.” Tim remembered your words to his bully. “And you,” you turned to him, hands on your waist and the cutest angry face adorned by your chubby cheeks. “You need to defend yourself, Timbo.”

“Tim has a…” another boy tried to say before you too pushed him to the floor.

“Tim needs a girl to fight for him.” another chimed.

“So what?!” you gave them an attitude. “You couldn’t even fight for yourselves too, you little… dogs. C’mon Tim, you’re my boyfriend now, nerd.”

He let out a chuckle as he revisited the memory, catching your attention away from the mountain of papers on your face.

“What?” you asked, narrowing your eyes and looking at him through thick lashes. Tim swore the way the sun shone on your skin made you glow, and he found the mock angry expression you wore made you look even prettier than you normally would.

“Nothing.” he simply stated, admiring the way your tired, yet full of life, eyes bore into his. Gosh, he thought. Oh, how he loved you. “Nerd”

.

a/n: by your use of nerdola, would i be wrong to assume your nationality as brazilian? lol

#tim drake x reader #tim drake x you #tim drake imagine #tim drake blurb #tim drake drabble #tim drake imagines

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serafilms · 3 months

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song 17! cupid (fifty fifty) + tim drake (spotify wrapped event)

i’m feeling lonely, oh i wish i’d find a lover that could hold me, now i’m crying in my room, so skeptical of love, but still i want it more, more, more

You’ve reached a certain point where you think you’re going to die alone. Call it the overwhelming anxiety, paranoia, being surrounded by happy couples syndrome, or whatever you want, but none of it excuses the fact that in all your years of life, hardly anyone has even glanced your way.

Perhaps you’re just blind to their stares, like how pigeons can only see out the sides of their heads, but never what’s sitting right in front of them.

“Or maybe I’m just a loser,” you mutter under your breath.

You slam your book shut, having spent the last 10 minutes reading and rereading the same line without absorbing it, as your mind was preoccupied with wallowing in your misery.

Distractions are no help. There is quite literally nothing for you to do now except lie down and accept your fate. And maybe get some sleep.

Standing from your desk, you look around and take a moment to open the window.

Cold, fresh air.

Then, you take a step towards your bed and collapse face first into the pillow, letting out an agonising groan that comes out muffled.

“Wow, that doesn’t sound good.”

The first reaction you have upon hearing the voice is to scramble up and promptly fall on the floor. Rubbing your bruised tailbone, you stare incredulously at the open window, where there is a guy dressed up in a weird, red getup with a cape and a mask over his eyes.

“Red Robin?”

He grins at you as he slips through the window and looks around your room, wasting no time in going to your shelf to snoop through your things.

“That’s me," Red Robin replies, tilting his head at a picture frame. You leap out of bed at record speed to snatch it out of his hands.

"Dude, what the fuck?" Clutching it protectively to your chest, you shoot him an incredulous look then glance down at the picture. It's one of you and your friend, Tim, at your high school graduation. You set it down on your bedside table quickly, and cross your arms as you turn to glare at the vigilante in your room.

"What are you doing here?"

He glances away from your shelf for a moment, taking in the way that you've awkwardly shuffled to the edge of your bed away from him, then shrugs. "Just stopping by for a visit."

Brows knitting together, you frown. "Okay, let me rephrase. Why are you in my room?"

Red Robin pauses, his eyes flitting towards the picture frame you've set aside.

It's been silent for a little too long now, so you speak up again. "Like, is this some kind of interrogation? Because I swear, whatever crime you think I'm involved in, I don't know anything about it. Unless it's about my chem prof cooking meth. But even then! All I know is rumours!"

He looks at you, amused, and you feel fear building up in your stomach. Is this some sort of technique? You did see a video about how the best way to get someone to tell you a secret is to stay silent and wait for them to spill. You suppose you've just given him exactly what he wants.

Red Robin takes a step towards you and you stumble back into your bedside table.

"This isn't an interrogation," he chuckles, "I'm just checking in.”

Why would he check in on you, of all the people in Gotham?

You sniff. “I’m perfectly fine.”

You can’t see his eyes or eyebrows under the mask, but you assume they’re raised in skepticism.

“I heard you groaning from outside, you know.”

Dead silence. Your neck heats up.

“Oh, right … that …”

The vigilante says nothing; he just watches as you dart your eyes around the room, looking at anything but him.

You feel the need to say more and fill the silence. “Yeah, uh, I was just … having a moment.” He stares at you. “Loneliness. Relationship troubles.”

Damn it, now he’s using that tactic on you.

Red Robin clears his throat. “Ah, I see.”

Do your eyes deceive you or is he blushing?

“Yeah, that’s a tough one. Um.” He starts to back up a little, eyes flitting between you and the space behind you. “Well, you know, it’ll get better. You’ll find someone. Uh, I should probably get back to patrol.”

The vibe just got really weird, you think.

You watch in confusion as he takes tiny steps backward towards the window. He tosses a red business card towards you that lands somewhere halfway in between. “Well, shoot me a text later and I’ll try and help with that. It’s my duty as a hero, you know, haha.”

You blink. “Okay?”

He’s halfway out the window when he looks back and clears his throat. “Sometimes, the right person might be right under your nose. Or behind you.” He gestures vaguely behind you and makes a quick exit.

You’re not quite able to process what just happened. Behind you? Turning around, your eyes focus on the picture. The one of you and Tim. You frown. The right person. What was he on about?

You place the picture down and snatch up the business card instead. There’s a picture of his symbol in the centre, and a mobile number on the back. Maybe you’d have to text him and ask.

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ragingbookdragon · 2 years

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could i request 23 for tim and batsis please? your writings for tim and damian are so cute TT thank you so much!!!!

BATSIS TAKING CARE OF HER SIBLINGS SUPREMACY!

23. Carrying the other one in their arms

***

“Baby boy,” she grunted, heaving the sluggish teen into her arms. “You are not a box of feathers, I hope you know that.”

Tim giggled almost deliriously and given that he was sleep deprived some seventy-two hours, he probably was. “I’m a hundred-and-twenty-five pounds of pure muscle.”

“Really? I couldn’t tell?” she held him, one arm under his knees, the other under his shoulders, and it only took Tim two seconds of understanding he wasn’t comfortable in that position to reposition himself where he was latched onto her back like a koala, legs around her waist, arms wrapped around her shoulders, chin propped on her shoulder. She blinked. “Are you comfortable now?”

“Mhm,” he muttered as she took hold of his thighs and hefted him up, starting their journey from the living room to more than likely her bedroom because she knew if she took him to his, he’d whine and beg to sleep in her bed. “Sis, do you love me?”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m literally carrying you to bed, Timmy. What do you think?”

“Just makin’ sure,” he replied, nuzzling into her neck. “‘m always worried you don’t.”

Pausing at the mirror at the base of the stairs, she shook her shoulder. “Look at me.” He did and she stared straight into his eyes. “Timothy Jackson Wayne, you are my baby brother. I love you more than life itself. Do not ever doubt that I don’t love you, understand?” Tim’s expression turned solemn, but she could see the tears in his eyes and he nodded mutely; she winked and offered him an easy smile. “Now come on, it’s time to go to bed, baby boy.”

“Baby bird,” he muttered. “Wanna be baby bird when Damian isn’t around.”

She laughed quietly. “Alright, baby bird. It’s time for bed.”

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novelizt · 2 years

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YOU LEFT YOUR LUNCH AT HOME ☁︎ TIM DRAKE

You left your lunch box at home, and you're paying for the consequences of your actions.

The office cafeteria meal tastes even worse than Tim's burnt chicken nuggets and fries. As someone who developed an immunity to her fiancé's disastrous cooking, you thought you'd be able to brave through it... but the broccoli tastes like water and the water tasted like mustard.

You'd rather come to peace with the waste of money than force that abomination down.

You sag against your desk, still hungry, a little bit poorer, and saddened by the lack of a good meal. A small part of you is tempted to call Tim and have him drive your food over but after a whole night of patrol plus a tough case he just had a breakthrough on, you'd rather let the man have his rest. He deserved it.

Like an angel, a knock sounded from your window. You raised your head, feeling like Juliet... Before pure horror struck you.

Tim did answer your prayers alright, but he was doing so as Red Robin. The pure incredulity on your face must not have clicked for him because he smiled a charming smile and waved your lunch box like he wasn't on the brink of exposing his identity.

Adrenaline dropped into your system and you stumbled to the window. Eyes darting around the room before you dragged him into your office.

The window slammed and locked behind him.

"Hi, sweet-"

"Shush!" You pulled him down by the cape, hiding under the window. "Are you out of your mind Tim?!"

He pouted and it almost made you falter. "You left your lunch at home."

"I did leave my lunch, yes." you sighed, loosened your grip on him. Your fingers curled around the container before leaning forward, rewarding your prince with a quick kiss. "Thank you, lovey."

"You're welcome," he chirped smilingly, leaning into you until your foreheads touched. "Sorry I've been so lazy lately."

You waved your hand. "Not your fault. And you are not lazy, you had a lot on your plate." You raised your free hand to cup his cheek. He nuzzled into palm like it was second nature. "I'm proud of you."

"And I'm proud of you," he replied, pecking your cheek. "I'll make up for our missed dates. I promise."

"I know you will," you assured. "But please... don't deliver my lunch box in this outfit. You nearly gave me a heart attack."

He chuckled, kissing your palm before he held your hand. "I'll use my head next time. I was worried I'd deliver it late and lunch break would be over."

"No more visits as Red Robin."

"I promise... Unless someone flirts with you. In that case, show them the ring."

You fight a smile, leaning in to plant a tender kiss on his lips. "Alright, you jealous baby. Now head on home before someone sees. Let's have dinner together later."

He kisses the back of your hand before sliding the window open, saluting to you as if you two were teenagers in love again. "It's a date."

⌠ @novelizt 2022 ⌡

#— ❨ 🌺 ❩ 𝐋𝐈𝐙𝐙𝐈𝐄'𝐒 𝐔𝐓𝐎𝐏𝐈𝐀 ₊˚.༄#tim drake imagines #tim drake x reader #tim drake #red robin imagine #red robin x reader #red robin #dc x reader

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dc-and-arfrona · 10 months

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Regretful

—-

Tim Drake x GN!Reader

Type: Angst/Fluff

Word Count: 1.3+

Masterlist

Summary: What happens after a fight?

—

TIM’S POV

The Gotham night was as unforgiving as ever, echoing the tumultuous state of my heart. The weight of our recent fight still clung to my thoughts, its aftermath casting a shadow over our once vibrant relationship. As Red Robin, I soared through the city, seeking solace in the streets I patrolled, but finding none.

My mind replayed the heated words and accusations that had been exchanged between us. The pain and frustration in your eyes were etched deeply into my memory. Each passing moment without you felt like an eternity, and I couldn't shake the guilt that washed over me.

How had we reached this breaking point? The realization that I had pushed you away with my stubbornness and inability to see beyond my own perspective hit me like a punch to the gut. Our shared dreams, laughter, and moments of tenderness now seemed distant, slipping through my fingers like sand.

I thought about the countless nights we spent discussing cases, our minds intertwined in the pursuit of justice. The way your smile lit up a room, and how your laughter filled my soul with warmth. The chemistry we shared was undeniable, but somehow we had become entangled in a web of misunderstandings and hurt.

As I soared higher above the city, my thoughts wandered back to the fight, dissecting every word, every silence that had fractured our bond. I had failed to communicate effectively, to truly listen and understand your perspective. And in that moment, I realized the magnitude of my mistake.

Regret gnawed at me, threatening to consume me whole. The pain of losing you, the thought of a future without your presence by my side, was unbearable. But I had to face the reality that I had caused this rift between us, and now it was up to me to find a way to mend what was broken.

The night air whispered its secrets, offering me a moment of clarity. I knew I had to confront my shortcomings and apologize for my part in our unraveling. If there was even a sliver of hope left, I had to fight for it.

Descending from the rooftops, I made my way to your doorstep. The weight of my heart felt heavier with each step, the anticipation mingled with trepidation. I knocked softly, my hand trembling slightly. The door creaked open, revealing your weary but beautiful face.

"Tim," you murmured, your voice filled with a mixture of surprise and sorrow.

Taking a deep breath, I looked into your eyes, hoping you could see the sincerity in mine. "I'm so sorry," I whispered, my voice barely above a whisper. "I let my ego and stubbornness cloud my judgment. I pushed you away when I should have been fighting for us. You deserved better than that."

Your gaze softened, and for a fleeting moment, I glimpsed the flicker of hope. "Tim, it's not just about the fight," you replied, your voice trembling with vulnerability. "It's about the patterns, the lack of trust and understanding. We've been drifting apart for a while."

I felt a lump forming in my throat, realizing the truth in your words. It wasn't just about one fight; it was the accumulation of cracks that had grown wider over time. But I couldn't bear to let go without trying to mend what we had lost.

"I know I can't undo the past, but I promise you, Y/N, that I will do everything in my power to rebuild the trust we've lost," I pleaded, my voice filled with desperation. "I love you, and I'm willing to put in the work to make things right."

Silence hung in the air, the weight of uncertainty enveloping us both. Your gaze held mine, searching for sincerity, for the remnants of the love we once shared. And then, with a sigh, you nodded slowly.

"I still love you too, Tim," you admitted, tears brimming in your eyes. "But it's going to take time. We need to rebuild the foundation of trust and communication. Are you willing to do that?"

A wave of relief washed over me, a glimmer of hope illuminating the darkness in my heart. "I am," I affirmed, determination lacing my voice. "I will be patient and understanding. I'll work tirelessly to mend what's broken between us."

With those words, a fragile bridge began to form between us—a bridge that would lead us on a journey of healing and growth. Our path was uncertain, but in that moment, I knew that love had the power to mend even the most shattered of hearts.

The morning sunlight gently filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. Slowly, I stirred from my sleep, my senses gradually coming to life. And then, as my eyes fluttered open, a surge of tranquility washed over me, filling the space once consumed by doubt and sorrow.

Beside me, you were peacefully asleep, your features softened in the delicate morning light. The remnants of our previous fight felt distant, as if they had been washed away by the night's slumber. In this quiet moment, I found myself captivated by the sheer beauty of your presence—the way your eyelashes delicately brushed against your cheek, the rise and fall of your chest as you breathed, the soft curve of your lips.

Reaching out, I gently brushed a strand of hair away from your face, my touch tender and filled with reverence. It was in this simple act that a profound realization washed over me—I loved you, and I was determined to make our love stronger than ever before.

As if sensing my touch, your eyes fluttered open, a sleepy smile gracing your lips. "Good morning," you murmured, your voice filled with warmth and affection.

A smile tugged at the corners of my own lips, and I couldn't help but feel a sense of relief and hope in your gaze. "Good morning," I replied softly, my voice infused with newfound sincerity.

In the quiet intimacy of that moment, we laid our vulnerabilities bare. We spoke without words, our eyes conveying the promises and intentions that our hearts longed to share. It was a silent agreement, a mutual understanding that we would embark on this journey of healing together.

With a gentle touch, I pulled you closer, our bodies intertwining, fitting together as if we were two puzzle pieces destined to find solace in each other's embrace. There was a newfound tenderness, a renewed appreciation for the love we shared.

Time seemed to slow down as we lay there, basking in the warmth of our connection. Each breath, each heartbeat, was a reminder of the delicate nature of love and the effort it required to nurture its flame. And in that moment, I made a silent vow—to cherish you, to communicate openly, and to never take our love for granted again.

As the day unfolded, we moved with a newfound ease, rediscovering the simple joys that had once brought us closer. Laughter filled the air as we shared stories, explored the world outside our worries, and embraced the adventures that awaited us. It was as if the weight that had burdened us had been lifted, replaced by a renewed sense of hope and an unbreakable bond.

In the days that followed, we took small steps towards rebuilding what we had lost. We communicated with honesty, listened with empathy, and held each other with a gentleness that only true love could inspire. The scars of our past began to heal, slowly but surely, as we worked together to create a future filled with trust, understanding, and unwavering devotion.

As we lay side by side once again, ready to surrender ourselves to sleep, I felt a deep sense of gratitude. Gratitude for the journey we had undertaken, the lessons we had learned, and the love that had survived the storm. I closed my eyes, knowing that in the morning light, we would wake up together, feeling at ease and enveloped in a love that was stronger than ever before.

#Tim drake x reader #tim drake x y/n #red robin x reader #red robin #tim drake #red robin x y/n #dc #dc universe #dc imagines #red robin imagines #tim drake imagines #tim drake imagine #robin x reader #robin x y/n #robin x you #tim drake x you #red robin x you

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internalsealpanic · 1 year

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Mechanics of Living part 5

summary: A short conversation over an ice cream machine. a/n: This is a really, really, really late up date and it’s fairly short. I struggled with this one and I cut a lot of stuff that I didn’t think fit.

masterlist

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“C’mon Jay, pleeeeeeeas,” you whine, clasping your hands together, “don’t make me beg you.”

“I won't.”

Your shoulders rise with excitement.

“You're not good at it.” Your shoulders droop along with your mouth. “Why does that complement sound like an insult?”

“What part about that did you take as a complement?” Jason asks, the crate of little spigots and screws resting on his hip. He’s standing still unsure of where to shift his weight. He looks down at you like you’re a gnat but you can’t really find yourself being intimidated by that look mostly because there’s this broad streak of grease over his nose that highlights the way his nose scrunches. “None of that functions as an insult.” You flap your hands dismissively.

“(Y/n), just go away.”

“You’re so mean.” “What part of ‘no’ don’t you get?” “The letters.”

He sighs. “Smartass.”

“Pleeeeeease, Jay!” You say, tugging on his apron. The edges are starting to fray and you suspect it’s partially your fault at this point. “It’s just one machine and-- and-- You owe me!”

The lines in Jason’s face harden into a scowl. “For what?!”

“You know… the thing!” You twirl your hand.

He narrows his eyes at you. “I don’t owe you shit.”

“The thing!” You insist, flapping your hand unsure of the correct word.

Jason continues to squint at you and you watch as his eyes slowly widen in recognition. “HOW DO I OWE YOU FOR THAT?!”

“You literally did not pay me!” You jab at his chest. “Dude, I just need you to figure out how to fix this thing and I will NEVER bring that up again. I swear.”

Jason sighs, knowing you’ll never drop it. “Fine, what do you want me to fix?”

You grin. “Wait, right here.”

“It’s like I’m going anywhere.” He groans. “Bring it to the shop floor.”

You smile wide, stupid, and outrageously endearing. It makes Jason want to slug you sometimes.

Jason stares at the contraption you’ve got in front of him.

“Can you fix it?” You ask, resting your elbows over your knees.

“I probably could if you get off my workbench.”

“I’m not even blocking your view!” You say, waving your hand in his face.

He smacks your hand, making you pull it away with a whimper. “Heard of personal space?”

“Are you getting performance anxiety, Jay?”

Jason’s face goes through every shade possible before settling on a deep crimson. “I *will* throw you out on your ass.” Jason snarls, his screwdriver held like a knife. You’re unfortunately not stupid enough to keep annoying him, so you raise your hands in an effort to appease Jason.

When Jason stops contemplating murder, he turns back to the machine disassembling it. You sketch the parts as he takes them out one by one but sometimes your hand veeres off scrawling the jagged lines on Jason’s skin onto the page like dark sprawling roots.

“Do you know what this is even for?”

“Sure,” you say, fixing a crooked line you’d drawn on a spring, “bristol said it was an ice cream machine.”

Jason looks up at you and when you don’t look at him back, he nudges your foot with his elbow. “First of all, what the hell is an ice cream?”

“Food.” You say simply, looking back down to your sketchbook, and Jason had no idea what he expected. Looking into your eyes, Jason isn’t sure the complexity of your thought process goes beyond food.

“Second, you’re still running around with the bristol kid?”

You level him a look which Jason volleys with his own hard look. “It’s only for a little while,” you say, shifting a little. “The kid’s out on his own for the first time and I thought I’d be nice.”

“And?”

You huff. “Can’t I just be nice?”

Jason sweeps his hand over the gutted machine.

“Ok, fine. He’s got a cat. Besides, he can read and that’s incredibly useful.” You explain; the last few words are sticky and bitter in your mouth. It makes you gag but you feel a little relieved that Jason isn’t accusing you of being sentimental. At least, not blatantly. You can’t tell if the hair ruffle he gives you is accusatory or not.

“Where is the brat anyway?”

“Brat? Ok, old man.”

“Shut up. I’m only 2 years older than you.”

“Pffffff, whatever you say.”

He scowls at you again and in the interest of not losing an eye you raise your hands again. “Ok, ok, he’s buying the ingredients. We found it in a recipe card next to the thingy and *no*, I did not give him money.”

Jason clicks his tongue in approval but doesn’t say more than that. “No manual?”

“I wish.”

“That makes two of us.” He lifts the machine inspecting the base, then jots a few notes down. “It seems like this thing--” he points to the base “-- spins this thing--” he points to the metal cylinder “--Instead of this--” he holds up a spatula-like thing.

You scratch your head. “Uh sure.”

“Why is it you can listen to richie rich explain the purpose of the phone book but not listen to me?”

“I like his voice more.”

“Pfffft.”

“You say the same thing about--”

Something whooshes past you. You feel yourself sweat as you glance to the opposite wall. That is definitely a screwdriver embedded in the wall. “Shut it or the next one goes through your head.”

With a theatrical sigh, you say: “Your customer service skills are atrocious.”

“Well, you’re an atrocious customer.”

You shrug. “Fair but technically, I pay part of the rent for this shop so...”

“I have more tools.”

“Ok, ok, shutting up.”

Jason threads his hand through his hair and cupping his hand over his mouth. He taps two fingers against his cheek in contemplation. “I’ll see what I can do,” Jason says finally. He points to the screwdriver, poking the air over and over as if pressing a button to get your attention. You shake your head and hop off the workbench. Tilting your head to the side, you ‘gently’ kick the chair startling Jason.

“Do you trust him?”

The line on the page becomes unfettered and misshapen. The screw on the page looks odd with the jagged line cutting across it’s clinically well-spaced spirals like it had cracked or broken. Your eyes flick to Jason’s neck, not daring to lower them to his shoulder. Your hand slows down and the answer comes out as easy as breathing. “No.”

Jason hums and nods as he inspects a part.

You wiggle the pencil in your hand which is getting harder to do the smaller the pencil gets. You’re going to need a new one soon if you’re going to try and sell maps. You should switch to charcoal. It would be much cheaper and it would be easier to find. You frown. You’d need to start learning how to use it though.

Jason snaps his fingers in front of your face. Your shoulders bunch up and line you were drawing trails off the page.

“I need you to grab something for me.” “A friend? Heard Amusement Mile had a discount on them today.”

Jason flips you off.

You incline your head to the side and cup a hand behind your ear to show you’re listening.

“I need you to get 2 flange nuts, 2 round head machine screws, and copper wires.” He lists, talking rapidly and thickening his Bowery accent (the one you could never quite get a hold of). You squint, jutting your bottom lips. “Got all that, yeah?” He grins.

You blow out a breath and recite them back to him word for word. “Asshole.”

Jason shoos you away with a wave of his hand.

#reader insert #tim drake x reader #tim drake imagines #jason todd imagine

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strange-birb · 8 months

Text

Had to when I saw the quote lol

I love Jason sm 😂

Og post @batfam-imagines

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marshmallow---pillow · 14 days

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Murderer: Run if you want to live

Literally any Batkid: *starts sprinting*

Murderer: Like not towards me tho

#jason todd #dick grayson #tim drake #damian wayne #stephanie brown #cassandra cain #duke thomas #They're in civies btw #for people who're running low on imagination #dc #batfam #Kay's funnies

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frownyalfred · 1 month

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Tim/Kon being a peak ship except every few days they realize they’re acting too much like Bruce and Clark and have to ditch the relationship until they can look at each other again without flinching.

#imagine arguing with your bf and realizing you’re exactly like your dad #I would be horrified #tim drake #kon el #connor kent #bruce wayne #batman #dc #batfamily #superbat #clark kent #Superman #timkon

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gay-dorito-dust · 4 days

Note

You may request A batboys reacting to the death of the reader

First time writing for Tim, so he’s probs ooc in this one.

Dick feels as though he’s failed you.

He tries to act like he was fine but he was far from it and everyone knew it as they stepped on eggshells with him during this time.

Dick would often find himself sat on the very rooftops where he’d take you on countless dates or just to star gaze and talk as though you were still with him.

It was his own way of comforting himself with your loss but that was never enough to stop the tears that fell from his eyes when he spotted a bright star he’s never seen before until now, and laughs humourlessly.

‘I see you’ve finally made your way amongst the stars huh sweetheart?’ He’d say as your star would twinkle in response, making him chuckle. ‘You’re so beautiful, the brightest of your kind.’ He adds sombrely as he wipes his eyes with the back of his hand as he felt his heart sing out for you, only to receive nothing in return.

Reality was often disappointing but with you it was a fairy tale.

Waking up to you was a dream within itself and getting to do mundane things with you before heading off to work was something that could only exist in a daydream.

He knew Hayley misses you as badly as he does with how he’d hear the poor dog whine and whimper at the door, as if waiting for you to walk through it and tackle her with kisses and love like you always did, only to get nothing for hours.

‘I know, I miss them too.’ He says against Hayley’s fur as she whimpers and whines at the door. ‘I miss them so fucking much it hurts.’ He adds as he allows himself to mourn for you alongside his dog long into the night.

Jason blames himself for not being fast enough or strong enough to keep you protected and safe.

The apartment you once shared with him that only recently had started to feel like home to him now felt cold and haunted with the ghost of you, so much so to the point he avoids it at all cost.

Nothing felt right without you, everything felt wrong and unjustified that he became more ruthless then before on patrols just to let off some steam and would come back from them more beaten and bruised then normal.

He didn’t care, he couldn’t feel anything anymore with how numb he became after loosing you.

Dick and Roy would stop by to see how he was doing but each visit was the same with Jason refusing his older brother and best friend entry as he held one of your plushies tightly against his chest. He knows they mean well but he just couldn’t find it within himself to hear the same thing he’s heard from everyone else; It just felt disingenuous after a while and didn’t feel as though people truly understood the impact that you had on him throughout your time together.

Jason would become more destructive with himself and going headfirst into danger without a second thought and damns his teammates for dragging him out by the scruff of his neck as he fights and kicks out of their hold. He doesn’t want to be saved! He just wanted to be with you again, why couldn’t they see that?!

After loosing you Jason becomes more prone to angry outbursts and often lets them out on the wrong person but he couldn’t care less at this point, his favourite person was gone and he was left back where he was before you.

Lost and deeply afraid.

Tim would retreat from everyone and everything by cooping himself into his room, rarely to come out.

He’d rather rot in his bed and on his phone, looking through all the photos you’ve taken together and seeing just how happy you both were, all the while a pit in his stomach grew at the thought of all the plans you’ve made but would never get to do.

He hated how easily he gave you his heart and hated it even more at just how easy it was to loose you that he wishes that he could stop himself from meeting you for the first time, just so he could selfishly save himself from the best moments of his life and the inevitable heartbreak he’d soon suffer.

Tim would do anything in his power to get you back but knew that it just wasn’t possible.

He knew Jason was given life by the Lazarus pit but he wasn’t willing to subject you to that even if he was held at gunpoint. He’d rather you rest in peace than force you to live with the knowledge that you should technically be dead.

Tim would remain in his room, wondering about the what ifs and the what could’ve beens if you hadn’t died. Would someone have taken your place? Was your death an unchangeable fixed point in time that was meant to happen?

He would only be reunited with you in his dreams where he has saved you and you had gotten to live out the rest of your life happily, rather then left for dead in an alleyway not too far from the place where you were originally going to meet up for date night.

Damian dedicated his life to getting revenge.

He had lost the light in his life, so why should he think his adversaries should live when you weren’t even given the option?

There will be more bodies pilling up on the streets of Gotham at a faster rate than normal whenever Damian is on patrol, much to Bruce’s dismay.

His anger and grief was all consuming and that left little to no room for logic to make him stop and see what he was doing was no better than the thing that took you away.

Life was black and white for a long time for Damian and you were the colour.

You were the air he breathed and without you he was gasping.

He knew about the Lazarus pit in his grandfather’s possession and its mythical properties and how it gave Jason a second chance at life. However he was at a cross roads on using it for his own selfish gain, on one hand he could have you back and everything would be fine again, but on the other hand you wouldn’t be the version of you he fell in love with…

Damian didn’t know what to do. The grief, the anger, the sadness…it was all too much for him. He felt as though he apart of him was missing and he would never get it back, it just wasn’t possible.

Bruce feels as though nothing has changed since his parents death.

He may be older, faster, stronger and wiser but that didn’t mean nothing in the face of death, and your death only proved that to be true as he held you in his arms, holding you close to his chest as he quietly sobs into your cold neck.

Much like Tim, Bruce doesn’t take care of himself anymore and it was up to Alfred to make sure that he doesn’t keep over and die unexpectedly.

‘They wouldn’t want this for you sir.’ Alfred would say as Bruce slams his hands down on the surface of his desk. ‘And what would you know that they want for me Alfred, y/n’s dead and it’s my fault.’ He would bark and bare his teeth at the only father figure he had in his life, a father figure whom has seen this expression bore on the young master’s face more times then he could count, but it still hurt him to see Bruce in pain and heartbreak.

‘They would want you to take care of yourself, sleep proper hours, eat full meals, shower, reach out to anyone,’ Alfred began to walk towards Bruce and place a hand on his shoulder, where he could practically feel the unbridled anger and pain radiation through him that he kept under control. ‘They wouldn’t want you to wallow in pain alone, Gotham needs you.’

‘And I needed them.’ Bruce replied sharply, aggressively wiping his eyes with his hand as he looks over at a framed picture of you that he always kept nearby. ‘All I wanted was them.’ He adds softly this time as he looks at Alfred, lost and confused at what to do now that his anchor was gone. ‘I miss them so much Alfred.’

Alfred brings Bruce into his arms, much like he did when he lost his parents, when he lost Jason and now you, allowing him to burrow his face into the Butler’s shoulder and softly sob into the fabric. Alfred felt his heart break even more as he rubbed Bruce’s back in an attempt of bringing him comfort. ‘I know master Bruce, I know, but you’d be doing their memory a great disservice by destroying yourself.’ The older man started as he looked over at the framed picture of you and smiled soberly, you were a beacon to Bruce and Alfred wasn’t afraid to say that he viewed you as his in law with how happy you made Bruce and that was all Alfred could ever want for him.

Now that you were gone, Alfred couldn’t help but feel that the manor got just that little bit lonelier without you.

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superhero--imagines · 2 years

Text

Okay I need some help, I need a few more bat boy pieces for the zine - what are your favorite Jason Todd, Tim Drake, and Damian Wayne fics/headcanons?

Also if you have a new idea feel free to drop it in my ask box!!

#thank you!!!#batman imagine #dc comics imagine #superhero--imagines #jason todd imagine #jason todd x reader #older damian wayne imagine #older damian wayne x reader #tim drake imagines #tim drake x reader #superhero imagine

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p0ssym1lker · 2 months

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Damian: where did the name Robin even come from?

Dick: oh it's what my mother called me but then Bruce just decided to call Jason it without asking

Jason, who very much did not know that:

Tim, who had his own theories:

Bruce, who is getting death stares from everyone: well-

#dc #dc comcis #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne #bruce wayne #yall ever think bout a mother who unintentionally named many sons #yall think bout dick seeing his mothers nickname for him being used without being asked over and over again #yall think bout dick giving damian the name #imagine giving up a piece of family to family

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ragingbookdragon · 2 years

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When he stepped into the office, the secretary behind the desk practically tripped over herself at the sight of him. Not that he minded, he knew how good he looked, however, the appointment at hand voided the desire to flirt with her. “I’m here to see the headmaster. I’m Timothy Wayne’s older brother.”

For a moment, she started to nod, looking down at a stack of papers, then seeming to remember something, she asked, “I’m sorry, what’s your name?”

“(Y/N). (Y/N) Wayne.”

“I’m sorry, your name isn’t on the list of people here to see or check out Timothy Wayne.” She blinked. “I thought Mister Wayne was coming to get him.”

“My father is busy. I’m the only sibling available at the moment.” He glanced towards the headmaster’s office. “Tim called me. He said he needed me.”

“I’m sorry, but unless your name—”

“Tim!” he yelled at the door.

“Sir, please don’t yell in the office.”

“Timothy!”

The door suddenly opened, the headmaster appearing, and there was Tim in the back. “(Y/N),” the teen breathed in relief, and he looked at the secretary.

“I don’t need permission to collect my brother.” He walked past the desk and into the headmaster’s office; he sat down in the chair next to Tim. “What’s up, kiddo?”

Tim suddenly looked at his hands. “I…I messed up, (Y/N).”

His eyes narrowed at the boy, then looked at the headmaster. “What happened?”

“Timothy struck another student. The boy was sent to the ER after the nurse assessed that his nose had been broken.”

“What?” he glanced back at his brother, then down to his hand; the boy’s knuckles were red and swollen. “Why?”

“We’re in the process of seeing what punishment to give him for—”

“I didn’t ask you what punishment you were giving my brother. I asked him why he hit someone,” he shot back. “Tim, why?”

His brother exhaled and he quietly said, “Evan called me a name…”

He trailed off and (Y/N) repeated, “What’d he call you?” Tim didn’t say anything. “Tim, what did he say?”

“He called me a fag.” His shoulders slumped and he repeated weakly, “He called me a fag. I just…I just got mad and before I knew it, I punched him.” His brother sat back and watched him for a moment; Tim’s eyes welled with tears. “I’m sorry, (Y/N). I didn’t mean to, it just happened.”

Still silence drifted from his brother, until the headmaster said, “Unfortunately, because Tim struck another student and broke his nose, we will have to suspend him from school.”

“The student my brother struck, Evan,” he started, keeping his eyes on Tim. “What punishment will he be receiving for using a homophobic slur against my brother?”

“With all due respect, Mister Wayne—”

“My name isn’t Mister Wayne,” (Y/N) interjected and pulled out the dog tags from underneath his shirt. “I’m a Captain in the United States Navy. Mister Wayne is my father.”

“Captain Wayne,” the headmaster corrected, then swallowed, adjusting the pens on his desk. “Perhaps Mister Wayne should come down and talk to us.”

(Y/N) leaned forward and met his gaze, calmly stating, “Well my dad isn’t here, is he? I am. So, unfortunately, I’m the one you’ll be dealing with right now.” He stared the man down. “Evan used a slur against my brother and yet you aren’t going to punish him because he has a broken nose? Yeah, that’s not gonna happen.”

“But he—”

“Tim, did he hit you first?”

“No,” he answered.

“Then you drew first blood.” He looked at the man. “You can put them in in-school suspension, but you will not punish my brother only.” His gaze narrowed. “Or…we can agree that this was an unfortunate accident that took place, my father can donate a substantial amount to the many sports programs at Gotham Academy, and we can just overlook this. Your choice headmaster, but rest assured, if you don’t take this deal, I’ll make your life a living hell.”

“Is that a threat?”

“It’s an assurance. I’d take the deal, headmaster.”

The man looked between the two before he sighed. “…Fine…we await Mister Wayne’s check in the mail.”

“Good.” (Y/N) rose from his chair. “Tim, get your shit.” As his younger brother rose from his seat, he pointed at the headmaster. “I want Evan removed from any classes with Tim and his schedule reworked so he doesn’t interact with my brother. If it isn’t changed by this evening, you’ll witness my assurance firsthand.”

“Yes, Mist—Captain Wayne.”

“Don’t let this shit happen again. With any of my siblings.” (Y/N) put his hand on Tim’s shoulder and walked him from the office and to the parking lot.

As they climbed in the car, Tim muttered, “I’m sorry.”

“Are you hungry?” he asked. “I’m hungry.”

“I shouldn’t have punched him.”

“I’m thinking Batburger but then again, Big Belly Burger sounds great.”

“Aren’t you mad at me?” Tim blurted out. “I broke someone’s nose.”

“Yeah? And?” he said. “I would’ve beat the shit outta the kid if it was me. I’m mad I had to come up here when I was busy, but I’m not mad you defended yourself against some kid being a homophobic asswipe. And dad won’t be either.” (Y/N) reached over and wrapped his hand arm around Tim’s neck, kissing the crown of his head. “I love you, kiddo, and nothing is going to make me feel anything less than that.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.” He kissed his head again. “But seriously, I’m starving. Where do you wanna get food?”

“Taco Bell.”

“UGH! I DON’T NEED A COLON CLEANSE TODAY!”

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dc-and-arfrona · 10 months

Text

No Doubt

----

Tim Drake x GN!Reader

Type: Fluff

Word Count: 1100+

Masterlist

Summary: You’re the only one he wants

---You sat in the cozy corner of the Batcave, engrossed in a book, occasionally stealing glances at Tim Drake as he tinkered with his latest gadget. Tim, the brilliant and enigmatic Red Robin, possessed a mind that seemed to operate on a different wavelength. It was both fascinating and intimidating, leaving you with a lingering sense of insecurity. The thought of him finding someone more intellectually compatible haunted your thoughts.

Tim caught a glimpse of your unease and paused his work, walking over to you. His gaze, gentle yet perceptive, met yours. "Hey there, (Y/N). What's on your mind? You seem lost in thought."

You sighed, setting the book aside, trying to find the words to express your feelings. "Tim, I can't help but feel insecure sometimes. You're incredibly intelligent, and I worry that I can't measure up. What if one day, you find someone who understands you on a level I never could?"

Tim's expression softened, his eyes filled with reassurance. He took a seat beside you, his voice calm and soothing. "I understand why you might feel that way, but let me assure you, (Y/N). Intelligence isn't the only measure of compatibility or love. Our connection is deeper than just intellect. It's about understanding, support, and the unique bond we share."

His words resonated with you, the weight of your insecurities momentarily lifted. But a part of you clung to doubt. "But what if you need someone who can keep up with your intellect? Someone who can challenge you intellectually without feeling inadequate?"

Tim reached out, his hand finding yours, offering a comforting touch. "You underestimate yourself, (Y/N). You possess qualities that go beyond intellect. Your empathy, your compassion, and your ability to see the world in a way I can't always grasp. Those are the qualities that draw me to you, that make our connection special."

As you listened to his heartfelt words, a flicker of hope ignited within you. Perhaps your doubts were unfounded, and you were more than enough for Tim. He continued, his voice filled with conviction. "I don't need someone who thinks like me; I need someone who complements me, someone who challenges me to grow and reminds me of the beauty in the world beyond my analytical mind."

His unwavering belief in your worth awakened a newfound confidence within you. "Tim," you spoke, your voice steady, "I hear you, and I choose to trust in us. No more doubts, no more comparisons. From now on, I'll embrace our unique connection and cherish the love we share."

A smile of genuine appreciation curved Tim's lips as he pulled you into a tender embrace. "That's all I could ever ask for," he murmured, his voice filled with sincerity.

In that moment, you realized that your insecurities had clouded your perspective, overshadowing the strength of your bond with Tim. Together, you would dispel the veil of doubt that lingered, forging a love that defied any intellectual expectations.

As you embraced, the Batcave seemed to fade into the background, replaced by a future where doubts were nothing more than fleeting whispers. In the arms of Tim Drake, you found solace, knowing that your love was more profound than any intellectual disparity.

And so, you embarked on a journey of trust and unwavering support, eager to explore the depths of your connection and embrace the love that bloomed in the heart of Tim Drake, a love that transcended the boundaries of intellect and reaffirmed the beauty of your unique bond.

The two of you sat in comfortable silence for a while, reveling in the newfound understanding and assurance. Tim returned to his workbench, resuming his tinkering, while you picked up your book once again, this time finding it easier to focus. The Batcave was filled with a sense of peace and tranquility, as if the weight of your insecurities had lifted, allowing you to fully appreciate the moment.

Occasionally, Tim would steal glances in your direction, a small smile playing on his lips. You met his gaze, returning the smile with one of your own. It was in these small gestures that you found reassurance and a renewed sense of confidence in your connection with him.

As the minutes ticked by, Tim finally put down his tools and walked over to you, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "You know, (Y/N), I may be intellectually inclined, but that doesn't mean I can't appreciate a good book. What are you reading?"

You chuckled, sharing the title and a brief summary of the story. Tim listened attentively, genuinely interested in your thoughts and opinions. It was a reminder that your worth wasn't solely determined by your intellectual prowess but also by your unique perspectives and passions.

The conversation flowed effortlessly between the two of you, and as the evening wore on, you found yourself discussing not only books but also a wide range of topics, from philosophy to art to current events. It became evident that while Tim possessed a brilliant mind, he valued your insights and viewpoints just as much.

In those moments, the lingering doubts melted away, replaced by a newfound sense of security. You realized that your connection with Tim was built on a foundation of mutual respect, admiration, and the ability to grow together, intellectually and emotionally.

The night grew late, and with a gentle yawn, you closed your book, signaling the end of your reading session. Tim stood up and extended his hand toward you, a playful glimmer in his eyes. "Care for a dance, (Y/N)?"

You grinned, accepting his offer, and the two of you swayed to an imaginary melody in the dimly lit Batcave. As you moved in synchrony, a sense of joy and contentment filled the air, erasing any lingering doubts or fears.

In that moment, you realized that while intellectual compatibility was important, it was not the sole determinant of a fulfilling and loving relationship. Your connection with Tim went beyond the confines of the mind; it encompassed shared values, emotional support, and the unbreakable bond that had blossomed between you.

As you twirled in each other's arms, you marveled at the beauty of your unique love story, one that defied expectations and flourished in the face of insecurities. With Tim by your side, you knew that you had found not only a partner but also a kindred spirit, someone who cherished you for who you were and encouraged you to embrace your own brilliance.

And so, as the night grew quieter and the Batcave embraced you both with its protective embrace, you held onto the knowledge that your love with Tim was a rare and precious gem—one that continued to shine brightly, even in the darkest of times

#Tim drake x reader #tim drake x y/n #red robin x reader #red robin #tim drake #red robin x y/n #dc #dc universe #dc imagines #red robin imagines #tim drake imagines #tim drake imagine #robin x reader #robin x y/n #robin x you #tim drake x you #red robin x you

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